ON MY WAY

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|◁ II ▷|

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell

For the laws that I break, I'm going to hell

For the love that I hate, I'm going to hell

For the lies that I make, I'm going to hell

For the way I condescend and never lend a hand

My arrogance is making this head buried in the sand

For the souls I forsake, I'm going to hell

1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47

Day 66 - 8:19 PM

Music - Track 1 - Going to Hell - The Pretty Reckless

You can hear them. Shuffling, moaning, gasping. You quickly pull your hair back away from your face. You hate your hair sometimes; it always seems to get in the damn way. You make sure your phone is tucked safely into your jean pocket and that your headphones are snug in your ears. You don't want them to fall out when it gets rough. You need this music if you're going to make it there in time. You ready your bat and tap your right earbud to hit play...

Then you step out in the streets, and here they come. You make them faceless, nobodies, nothing. The first one makes its way to you, grabbing at your face and neck. You swing the bat hard and crack its skull open. You run down the street, trying to stay in the open so Bakugou can sharpshoot any that are in your blind spots. You hear a gunshot, but you don't stop running to look. One of the rules is to never look back. You learned that one the hard way.

You have to bash another head in as you get closer to your destination: a gas station. Inside are two things waiting for you: food and Kirishima. You just want to strangle him for going out alone. That's another rule. Maybe you should write a book for all these damn rules. As pissed as you are at him, you need Kirishima though; he's your ears.

You kick one of them away from the door and smash the bat against its head so hard that brain matter splatters the exterior wall of the gas station. You think you're taking your anger out on them now. You see Kirishima inside.

He runs to the door and ushers you in, but you can't go in yet. There's too many out here. You may never come back out if they gather around you both, so you start swinging at as many as you can. You take out two that are getting too close to the building, and one more that has started scratching at the large window.

A few of them start getting closer, hearing the commotion that's now around you. You kick one of the closest to you away, stunning it momentarily. The second is more aggressive and goes right for you. You waste no time in sweeping its feet out from under it and breaking its head open with your bat as soon as it hits the pavement. The first has regained its composure and has joined the third in pursuit of you. You kick the third and last one out of the way, using it as a way to step away from the first to get in a good swing at its head.

Your swing follows through and sends its head flying down the street. You feel a hand around your ankle. You tell your body not to twist away; you don't want its nails to break your skin through your jeans. You take a breath and bring your bat down on its face. Once. Twice. Three times. You're not taking any chances.

You see Kirishima opening the door of the gas station again so you make yourself run inside. You refuse to look at him and start filling your pack with anything your brain registers as food. Chips, jerky, anything canned, packaged candies, snacks, as many drinks that you can fit into your backpack. You can't hear much because of your music, but you know the air is tense. Kirishima is stuffing more into his already full bag next to you. His large body brushes against yours, and you lean away. You know it isn't the time or place to be mad, but you can't help that you're pissed.

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