BADLANDS

castle

the military aren't like normal police. they aren't here to protect people. in fact, nobody really knows why they're there, beside the fact that they're the cause of several bodies rotting on every street corner.

all she knows is that you join the force, or you stay poor. and when you're poor, you're worth nothing more than the scum left behind on the broken streets.

she hasn't gone that far yet as to lose her humanity completely.

ashley swallows deep, biting her gaunt cheeks as she hands him her ID, feeling a familiar wave of nausea rush through her head. she keeps her eyes glued to the ground desperately.

you look at them too long, and you'll find a bullet embedded in the pumping chambers of your blood-red heart.

he studies it, before snarling, "go." he keeps the gun trained between her eyes.

welcome to the BADLANDS, she thinks, let past the guard finally. enjoy your stay.

she makes her way past the tarped, cluttered shops, and the sleek metropolis city, the skyline of the badlands' desert behind them.

the desert itself was beautiful, hues of violets and pinks stretching across the mountainous sand, bleeding colors like the rose-tinted sky. it was hard to believe something so ugly could exist in the middle of the beauty of the rugged badlands.

the only thing not disgusting in the wasteland of a city were the neon lights that cover everything she can see during the nighttime.

every shade of color glows out at her each night, from every billboard, every store name, even the illuminated highway signs flash out at her, some flickering, some dull, some ebbing with vibrant light.

its over commercialized. its cluttered and chaotic. it's the emotion that floods through her each night, as she tries to grasp it and transform it into words. it keeps her sane.

she tries to write songs about this city. she writes songs about everything.

in fact, she's written over 20 since she finished her journey into the badlands. some of them are finished, and some of them sit at the bottom of a trash can.

she's here to bring them to the man today.

her grip tightens around the sheets in her hands, struggling to not let her songs fly away.

the towers of the city reach into the sky, looming over her as she makes her way through the streets, pavement cracked underneath her feet. the city is grimy and desolate by itself, a futuristic wasteland. dirt cakes every step on the pavements, cicadas crawling through every corner.

her eyes burn and her lungs gasp for air in the dense smog of the city.

she watches people rush past her, always having somewhere to go, quiet mouths and averted eyes.

they would save the talking for later tonight, when they rub their dead eyes until they're alive again, taking their substances in and letting their evil out.

she guesses she feels some longing for social interaction, but her desire to stay alive and not a corpse is too strong.

so, ashley keeps to herself.

its not like i'm missing out, anyways, she thinks. the people in the badlands weren't normal. they cheated, they lied, and they stole. they killed. whispers of terrible crimes had reached even her, shit that made her stomach turn. she had learned that pretty early on.

she also learned that there was no real police, not even doctors, to stop this.

she finally comes to a halt, standing before a pub, bustling with noise. she takes a deep breath. closes her eyes. and opens the black door.