Macbeth enters Hamlet's home: a small cabin in the forest that borders the city. The young boy looks around curiously, and fixates on a white orchid on a nearby shelf. The flower is well taken care of, and it has a small red spot in the center. Macbeth stares at the plant in wonder, prompting Hamlet to move closer in curiosity.
“You've never seen something like that, have you?” Hamlet asks, feeling bad for the poor boy.
“No,” Macbeth answers plainly.
Hamlet frowns and nods as he stares at Macbeth. Hamlet takes out his phone and sends a text before touching Macbeth's shoulder. He gently guides Macbeth through the house; showing him each room and explaining their purpose before stopping in front of the bathroom.
“We're gonna get you cleaned off, alright? I'll get you some new clothes, and my friend is gonna help show you how to wash yourself, okay buddy?” Hamlet smiles reassuringly as he speaks.
Macbeth nods and looks at the mirror in the bathroom curiously. Hamlet visibly grows anxious and steps closer to the mirror, trying to block Macbeth's view a bit.
“Hey, let me show you how the water works,” Hamlet tries to distract Macbeth from the mirror.
Macbeth seems to catch on, and quickly looks at the mirror again. A figure appears behind him in the reflection, and steps closer. A pale woman with blood running down her face and matted red hair comes into view. Hamlet grimaces and quickly turns to Macbeth to comfort him, expecting the boy to be afraid. Macbeth instead stares at the woman in the mirror with curiosity. He shows no fear, only genuine interest. The woman in the reflection reaches towards him, gently touching his shoulder, and Macbeth feels her touch instantly. The woman peeks over his shoulder from behind him with a kind smile. Her real appearance is very normal, a pale, red haired woman with blue eyes and smooth skin. The blood is gone, but her reflection strangely still reflects the scarier version of her.
“Sorry about that sweetheart, I wasn't trying to scare you,” the woman says, smiling at Macbeth.
Hamlet sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “I told you he was a child, and you show up right when he looks in the mirror?”
The woman rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out at Hamlet, “he's fine, aren't ya sweetie?”
Macbeth stares at her curiously before nodding, “how did you do that?”
The woman giggles as she speaks, “have you ever heard of Bloody Mary?”
Macbeth shakes his head. Mary frowns as she watches the confusion in his eyes. Hamlet kneels next to Macbeth and pats his back comfortingly.
He speaks with a soft smile, “this is my friend Mary. She's the sweetest, but she looks scary in mirrors. I asked her to help you out while I go and buy you some new clothes.”
Mary nods firmly, “we're gonna get you a bath, and some yummy food, alright darling?”
Macbeth is visibly confused, concerning Mary. Hamlet nods and gives Mary a silent look. Mary seems to understand, nodding to Hamlet before guiding Macbeth to the bathtub. She shows him how to turn the water on as Hamlet exits the room.
Hamlet leaves fairly quickly, sighing softly. All he can do is imagine the horrors Macbeth must have seen to be so unphased by the real Bloody Mary appearing behind him. He tries not to worry about it as he drives into town, but his mind keeps trying to put the pieces together. The only thing he's sure about is that he isn't abandoning this boy.
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If you are reading this, then I have succeeded, and my life finally has meaning. My species is gone, and so am I. Destroyed by our own hubris. Life formed on our planet five billion years ago, and by the time you read this not a single cell will remain. Our leaders have failed us, and our planet is dead. This will be my last work. A record of my species, my planet, and if my translator works I hope it may make this information useful to you. May this serve as a warning to all sentient beings. Do not make the mistakes we have made. Do not destroy yourselves for greed.
The word for my species translates to “The Transcendent”, a name we gave ourselves out of vanity. More accurate names would be “The Consumption”, “The Arrogant”, “The Greedy”, “The Fools”. We saw this apocalypse coming, and our leaders did nothing, the wealthy and powerful did nothing. Their vanity made them believe they were invincible. They thought they would be able to escape. Because of greed and vanity all twelve billion of us have died, and the plants and animals of our planet with us. We consumed our planet. We saw its resources as ours to exploit, and so we exploited. Every mineral, every plant, every animal was simply there to further progress our technology, and our amusement. Our planet was beautiful before. So I'd been told. I am not old enough to have seen its natural beauty in person. Only ancient photographs and diagrams remain of nature. Our planet has become a wasteland, with only a single city covering nearly one third of the planet remaining, and it is about to be destroyed.
Our deaths are not because of our destruction of the natural environment, our burning of the forests, nor our poisoning of the oceans. Those disasters have long been dealt with. Our scientists theorized that climate disaster has been the end of many sentient species, and perhaps that may be why we never found any others in our pursuit through the stars. Our climate disasters were handled, although not everything made it out alive. The natural environment is already gone. The only plants and animals that remain are those being farmed, and those too will perish with us. By the time you're reading this, they will already be destroyed. I wish you could have seen them, reader. The blue grasses of my world were beautiful. Their waxy leaves made them resilient, and it always seemed like nothing could rid the world of some of the most basic plants. Purple and green flowers grow as weeds in our artificial lawns. The last vestiges of what used to grow freely outside of our cities. Had we not poisoned the land, those resilient flowers may have survived the coming apocalypse. The flying reptiles that once were a nuisance have died out. The few that lived in cities have been hunted to extinction by the desperate and hungry. The small animals that once invaded our homes have fled to the wastes, where they will surely starve. The molds that once grew in dark, moist corners are the only things resembling life that seem like they may survive, but nothing can truly make it out of this disaster.
We are doomed because of greed, and vanity. Our scientists warned them that their greed would destroy our planet, but they never listened. The powerful thought themselves above consequences, even as our planet screamed out in pain. Even as the planet fought back. Even as chemicals poisoned our land and oceans. The beaches are impossible to traverse now. The stench of decay is unbearable, and the ground is no longer solid. Deep sea animals that had never seen the blue light of our twin suns washed up en masse. Entire species were declared extinct before they were first identified by scientists. The only records we have of some animals are photos of half-rotted corpses or skeletal remains.
The worst thing about the coming apocalypse is that the poisoning of our planet was intentional. Our governments assured us that the military knew what they were doing in their fight against the “other”. The wars seemed to never end. The enemy seemed unstoppable, because it was all fake. We could see through it, but we felt helpless to stop them. Fake wars against fake enemies in the name of control. They released chemical weapons that destroyed all possibility of life in the areas they were deployed. They were even more effective than anyone could have predicted. Weapons designed to poison entire countries, but certainly the effects can be contained. Foolishly, they were used on the guilty and the innocent. Our planet will be habitable to life once more in no less than twelve million years. Even now, days before the end, those responsible think they can escape responsibility. They are wrong.
My species deserves to be forgotten, but my planet does not. The purple sands of the Deadlands were home to such beautiful plants. The tall pink cactuses towering over the vast landscape like a forest, and our forests were beautiful too. Leaves in every color imaginable dotted many hills and valleys. The planet is too hot now for water to freeze, but our planet used to be entirely frozen at the bottom half. Even then, it sustained such a beautiful variety of life. Plants that could handle the frozen tundra, animals that found creative, amazing ways to stay warm, even some species of fungi thrived in places colder than most life could handle.
Our world's demise was slow, predictable, and tragic. The air is poison, the land is barren, even caves further down than we ever thought possible have been breached in vain attempts to search for more resources. If life continues on this planet, it will come from those caves that we have missed. Rather than the ocean, life will emerge from the ground. I wish I could live to see what it becomes, but as I write this I have hours to live. This is the culmination of my entire species, this document. I will store it in several forms in this vessel, and hope it is found by someone else that is capable of understanding it. I am afraid, but this document gives me some comfort in my final moments. If you are reading this, then I have succeeded, and my life finally has meaning.
tw: mentions of blood, mentions of child neglect, reference to child abandonment
Hamlet enters his house carrying several bags. He announces his presence to Mary and Macbeth as he walks through the door. Mary enters from the bathroom, and crosses her arms as she stares at Hamlet.
“Care to explain now?” she asks sternly, “who's the boy?”
Hamlet sighs as he sets the bags down carefully, “I found him in the graveyard. Brought him straight here when I realized he has nowhere to go.”
Mary's expression softens, “oh…I see.”
Hamlet nods and takes an outfit out of one of the bags as he speaks, “he needs food.”
“He didn't know what being hungry was when I asked. What the hell happened to him?” Mary looks at the door to the bathroom as she asks, knowing Hamlet has no answer.
Hamlet looks at Mary and holds out the clothes as he speaks, “he might tell us, but I don't want to make him if he doesn't want to.”
Mary nods silently and takes the clothes, going back to the boy with a soft sigh. Hamlet walks to the kitchen while shaking his head. He tries to keep his mind occupied to stop himself from worrying. He starts searching for something easy to eat; worried the boy may not be able to handle solid foods if he's so unfamiliar with it. Macbeth enters the kitchen with Mary several minutes later. His hair is still a little wet, but he's much cleaner now. Mary smiles as she guides him to a chair to let him sit. Hamlet smiles softly and brings Macbeth a glass of water and some yogurt. Macbeth stares at both with such unfamiliarity that Mary and Hamlet both share a concerned look. They work on teaching Macbeth how to drink the water, and how to eat the food. Hamlet's starting to think that this boy has actually never eaten.
An hour later Mary and Hamlet are helping Macbeth lay down in the guest room bed. Mary tucks the boy in with a kind smile before kissing his forehead. Macbeth doesn't smile, doesn't speak, but he closes his eyes and falls asleep fairly quickly. Hamlet and Mary exit the room quietly, and head out the back door into the garden. Mary crosses her arms as she looks Hamlet in the eyes, studying his expression for a moment.
“So what are you gonna do about this?” Mary asks sternly.
Hamlet pinches the bridge of his nose, “I have no idea. I can't just abandon him. You saw how he stared at water like it was some mysterious thing. He needs a guardian.”
“...And you named him ‘Macbeth'? The Shakespeare obsession may be going a bit far now, ‘Hamlet’,” she teases, trying to lighten the mood.
Hamlet lets out a weak chuckle and rubs the back of his neck, “it was the first name that came to mind.”
Mary shakes her head and laughs softly before she speaks, “well I'm sorry to leave, but…”
“I understand. We'll be alright Mary,” Hamlet smiles at her as he speaks, “thanks for coming over here.”
Mary nods before stepping into her reflection in the window. Her appearance again becomes bloody and terrifying, but despite that she turns and waves at Hamlet before walking out of view. With Mary gone, Hamlet collapses into a garden chair and rubs his forehead as he thinks.
tw: child abuse, child neglect, starvation, experimentation, death, death of a child, murder
Macbeth shoots awake, eyes wide as he breathes heavily and sweats. He grips the blanket tightly, knuckles white while he shakes in fear. His eyes dart around the dark room, trying to make out where he is. When he realizes he's still in Hamlet's guest room he lets out a heavy sigh and slowly loosens his grip on the blanket. He slowly gets out of bed, and makes his way to the living room. Hamlet is lying on the couch, snoring softly. Macbeth quietly walks to Hamlet, and watches him for a moment before looking around the room. The home is comfortable, inviting, warm, it makes Macbeth feel safe. He takes everything in, and tears start forming in his eyes as he realizes that this is all really happening.
Hamlet wakes quietly; immediately sitting up when he sees Macbeth. He fixes his own hair and straightens his shirt before smiling at the boy. Macbeth stares at Hamlet as tears start to roll down his cheeks. Hamlet immediately frowns and gently pulls the boy into a tight hug.
“What's wrong, buddy?” Hamlet asks, concerned.
Macbeth shakes his head as he clutches Hamlet's shirt, “this is really happening…I'm really here…”
Hamlet closes his eyes and starts soothingly running his fingers through Macbeth's hair, “yeah, you're really here. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you again Macbeth.”
Macbeth immediately breaks. He starts sobbing loudly. He shoves his face into Hamlet's shirt, and clutches the fabric like his life depends on his grip on it. Hamlet soothes Macbeth patiently, letting the boy cry out his feelings. Tears threaten Hamlet's eyes too, but he keeps his own emotions in check for now.
“Hey, let's eat, and then I'll take you somewhere nice. How does that sound?” Hamlet smiles as he gently squeezes Macbeth.
Macbeth sniffles as he looks up at Hamlet. He nods quietly and calms himself concerningly quickly. Hamlet notes how easily Macbeth hides his emotions. The more he learns about Macbeth, the more his concern grows. Hamlet smiles at Macbeth and guides him to the kitchen. He opens the fridge to show Macbeth what's inside. He takes some eggs out, and begins showing Macbeth how to cook them with a smile. Macbeth gives Hamlet his full attention, eyes wide. Hamlet genuinely smiles at the boy. Macbeth insists he makes his own eggs after watching Hamlet. Hamlet nods and guides the boy with a smile. Macbeth does well, clearly a quick learner.
The pair eat their breakfasts quietly. Hamlet doesn't want to be overbearing, and Macbeth doesn't know how to make small talk. He doesn't even know what small talk is. Macbeth eats voraciously. Hamlet watches Macbeth quietly, doing nothing to correct his poor manners.
Once they both finish Hamlet cleans up. Then, he gathers a proper outfit for Macbeth. He lets the boy change in his bedroom, and he himself changes into a brown suit with a white shirt and a green tie. The tie matches his eye color, and the suit compliments his slightly messy, dark brown hair. He's adjusting his tie when Macbeth steps out, wearing a black t-shirt that contrasts his sickly pale skin, and blue jeans that are just a bit too big for him. The boy's black hair is a knotted mess, but not as long as one would expect for someone so neglected. Hamlet starts brushing Macbeth's hair gently, smiling. Macbeth doesn't protest, sitting quietly.
“You're very quiet, Macbeth,” Hamlet states as he brushes.
Macbeth shrugs, “I've never had someone to talk to.”
“Then how did you learn to speak?” Hamlet stops brushing his hair to look at him, curious.
“I listened to the scientists through the door.”
Hamlet frowns, resuming his brushing, “what scientists?”
Macbeth shrugs again, nonchalant as he speaks, “the ones in the bunker. They couldn't believe I was still alive.”
Hamlet pauses, staring at Macbeth, “why was that?”
“They thought I should have ‘starved’, whatever that means. They expected me to die years ago, apparently,” Macbeth is far too calm as he speaks bluntly.
Hamlet stares at Macbeth in disbelief, “you…really have never eaten? In how many years?”
Macbeth nods, “they said I hadn't eaten in eight years. Since they took me.”
“Took you from who?” Hamlet's expression hardens as he speaks.
Macbeth shrugs.
“How old were you when they took you?”
Macbeth shrugs again, “less than a year, from what they said.”
Hamlet is at a loss for words. He stares at Macbeth with his mouth hanging open for nearly a minute, frozen. Macbeth looks at Hamlet curiously.
“Are you okay?”
Hamlet takes a moment to respond, “are you? What did they do to you?”
Macbeth shakes his head, “I'm in a lot of pain…I don't remember them doing anything. I was in an empty, dark room for as long as I can remember. Someone accidentally opened the door, and I ran as fast as I could. I tried to free another little girl, but…”
Macbeth cuts himself off, tears welling up in his eyes. Hamlet's eyes widen as he gently pulls Macbeth into a tight hug. Macbeth starts to shake before finally breaking down into sobs.
Hamlet cradles Macbeth's head with one hand, “you're safe now, I promise.”
Macbeth lets out a shaky sob, “they killed her. They killed us both.”
Hamlet holds Macbeth tightly, frowning as he speaks, “they…killed you?”
Macbeth nods and looks up at Hamlet with teary eyes, “I heard a loud bang, and she collapsed. Then I heard another, and it all went black…Next thing I knew, I was buried in a little hole. Her body was on top of me…Her body was rotting…”
“That's why you were kneeling in front of a grave…” Hamlet frowns as he gently cups Macbeth's cheeks.
Macbeth nods, sniffling as he grabs Hamlet's shirt, “I buried her…She should've lived. I should've-”
Hamlet shakes his head as he cuts Macbeth off, “no, that wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I won't let them hurt you again for as long as I live. You're safe here.”
Macbeth clutches Hamlet's shirt, collapsing against him again while he sobs. Hamlet cradles the boy with a frown, processing everything he's said. The only thing Hamlet is certain of in this moment is how much he cares about this child.
As I drift through the vastness of space, all I can think of is home. I wish I could have my wife's pumpkin pie again. Or hold my children. Or see a sunset. This view isn't terrible, but it doesn't beat the mountains. It is funny though. All of that variety in landscape, all of the beauty of Earth, every person that has ever lived. I can see all of them. Every human that's ever lived and ever died is within my view. At this point they're just a small blue dot, impossibly far away. My oxygen will last a few hours more. I wonder how far I'll get? I can't tell how fast I'm drifting. I've definitely set a record though. I will die further from my home than any human in history. In a morbid way, I'm proud of that accomplishment at least. Perhaps I'll be found eventually. I hope my body makes it out of the solar system though. Perhaps I'll be the first sign of life an alien species will find. a preserved piece of human history, forever drifting through space. I just wish I could share the view.
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The murky depths of the ocean reveal nothing but curiosity hidden within them. Their craft was safe, they were told, under any depth in the ocean. Yet with every creak of the hull they felt more and more nervous. The abyss was not as calming as they had hoped. They were far too deep for the sun to shine. Science has never seen anything this deep, is it even possible? Maybe microbes, but surely nothing large could survive at this pressure, it'd surely be crushed. Right?
Their uncertain thoughts halted when they saw something move. They could've sworn a shadow had just swam past. No, it must be their mind playing tricks on them. Nothing could survive at these depths. The pressure would surely crush anything large for them to see. Thousands of pounds of pressure cause the metal walls around them to creak as they descend further. They're only a few hundred meters from the bottom. The deepest point on the planet.
They look out the window curiously, the lights from their submarine shining into the murky emptiness of the bottom of the ocean. As the ocean floor begins to come into their view, something begins to cast a shadow in the light. What's that on the rocky floor? As the submarine settles only centimeters from the bottom, they begin to touch the controls. The walls creak as they attempt to move forward. They aren't sure if the pressure will let them move, but they can't think about that. They can't think of the possibility that they won't make it to the surface. The shadow grows larger, too large. It must be a rock.
Of course it isn't a rock. It's a skull. A gigantic skull of some creature. They can't tell what it is from this distance, but something that size is surely a whale. It could've sunk here after death. But how did the pressure not crush the skeleton? Something moves in the light, causing them to jolt harshly. The skull shifts, as if bumped, while the shadow seems to move above their view. Something big definitely just moved.
They scramble to check the cameras, turning away from the window to check every angle around the sub. Nothing reveals itself to them. No movement, no visual. Just the cold emptiness of the bottom of the ocean. They take a shaky breath as they check every camera they can. It feels like hours before they slump in their seat, staring at an empty screen. Must've been their imagination. Surely nothing could survive down here. They turn back towards the window, and they're met with a menacing set of twelve giant bioluminescent eyes. They scream as they jolt away from the window. The submarine doesn't offer much room to move, and nowhere to hide. The eyes blink, one by one. No less than eight watch them at any given time. They feel the sides of the submarine vibrate as the creature lets out a noise. They cover their ears as the sound becomes deafening. Much louder than any whale they've ever heard.
The creature begins to circle the sub, or maybe it always was, but now they can actually see it. They shakily turn back towards the camera screens, trying to see the size of this creature. It's much more colorful than they thought. The eyes may be blue, but the side of the creature shows bioluminescent streaks of every color imaginable. It seems like the creature can turn the luminescence on and off at will, as each color pulses on and off in a slow, steady pattern.
They blink, and the creature is gone. They don't see it on the cameras anymore. How did someone so large just disappear. And why did their head hurt? They look through the window again, and take a shaky breath as they watch the giant skull move again. The skull, they realize, is much larger than the creature. It has to be. They can see eye sockets in the same pattern, and the skull is almost twice as large. How big do these creatures get? The shiver down their spine begs them to return to the surface, but they can't leave such a discovery undocumented! They try to move their sub closer, only to be stopped by another shadow. A faster shadow.
In an instant something latches onto the window. Something with a large mouth, and terrifying sharp teeth. An eel-like monstrosity the size of a train stares them down. It beats its head against the submarine violently, quickly. Each movement is erratic, panicked. Then the water turns a bioluminescent green. That must be the creature's blood. Something else dragged it away. They can see a trail of green cloud the water. They should surface now.
They try to maneuver the submarine to the surface. This discovery is worthless if they die. The fear of dying before they make it brings them to tears, but they can't break down yet. As the submarine moves upwards, they see something swim past. Not a shadow, no they could see the color this time. A swarm of some sort. Large, shark-sized fish begin to swim past at incredible speed. The fact that these are the smallest creatures they've seen so far scares them. They begin to cry quietly as they make their way up. One of the members of the swarm swims close enough for them to see its face, if only for a moment. Those teeth, another carnivore, must be. It looked like a creature of nightmares. Jagged teeth grow so long it can hardly close its mouth. And they don't want to know what caused those scars.
They feel like they upset something, seeing all of this activity. Their curiosity might just get them killed. They gasp as they hear a thud against the sub. A loud thud, did one of those schooling fish run into them? But the swarm had passed by. They turn to the camera to see those eyes. Those menacing eyes staring right at them. They wince as the creature gets closer, revealing a giant mouth, filled with razor sharp teeth. It's eyes pulsate in a pattern as they watch in terror. Then they blink, and the creature is gone, once again. They rub their aching head before looking out the window.
Sunlight? It should've been hours before they saw sunlight again. They call on their radio, asking for help as tears roll down their cheeks. They ask for confirmation that their partners on the surface can hear them. No response. They're sick of the isolation. It's been hours, this is ridiculous. After a slow journey, they finally begin to see the surface of the water, and the boat they were researching on. As they surface they immediately open the top hatch to let in some fresh air. They peek their head out at the nearby boat. It's a fairly large boat, so they can't see the deck, but they should've seen them surface. They maneuver their submarine right beside the boat carefully. No way they're getting in the water after what they've seen, even if it's irrational.
As they climb on deck they're met with a coppery, rotten smell. Is anyone here? The boat seems abandoned. They frown as they make their way to the bridge quickly, ready to shout at anyone there. But nobody's in the bridge. It's shockingly empty, besides that coppery, rotten scent. They take another shaky breath and make their way below deck. Whoever's pulling this prank is in for trouble. But they freeze when they see blood in the hallway. A lot of blood. Like someone was torn open with claws, or teeth. They quickly make their way through the halls, now looking for something to defend themselves with. A knife, anything. The halls become more and more covered in blood, and the smell of blood begins to permeate the air. Their panic begins to rise as they rush towards their cabin. Something meets them inside. Something inhuman. They freeze as they see the humanoid figure standing over a disemboweled corpse. The corpse hardly looks human anymore from the damage, but the blood gives it away.
The humanoid stands, unmoving, not breathing, watching them. Then, its body begins to glow. The same bioluminescent pattern as the giant below. Their eyes widen as their jaw hangs open in shock. Then they blink, and they find themselves eviscerated, gasping for air. The life slowly fades from their eyes, tears rolling down their cheeks. The last thing they see are the beautiful colors.
Author's Note: This is the first fanfic I've ever written, and it's about the absolutely lovely ConstellationCorvi! Corvi is an agender star bird VTuber from the constellation Corvus, and I've got a few stories about them to post on here. There are also more stories in the works! Go watch ConstellationCorvi on Twitch here:
*:･ﾟ✧ Welcome to the Constellation ✧˖° :* My name is Corvi: a fallen star from the Constellation Corvus! I'm an ENVtuber who plays video ga
They open their eyes slowly. The beauty of space amazes them. They can see more stars than they've ever thought could possibly exist. Nebulae accent the blackness of space, creating beautiful colors. They take in the beauty for a long moment before they realize how odd it is to be weightless. They turn their head, becoming dizzy from the sensation. Space is so much more beautiful than they'd ever dared hope. The sensation of dread takes a few minutes to hit them. Why are they there? What brought them there? Are they alone? If not, what else could be around? The questions race through their mind, causing them to panic. They flail their weightless body, trying to look at all of their surroundings. Then, they look down, and their stomach drops as a sensation of falling overtakes them. They clutch their chest as their breathing increases. Are they falling? Can they even fall? They dare to look up, hoping not to experience the same falling sensation. But this time their body feels as though it's falling upwards. They can't tell if they're even moving. The weightlessness makes it impossible to tell. Nothing they can see is moving relative to them, but they don't know how far away anything is either. they don't enjoy being alone. They don't know if it's been minutes or hours, but they feel lonely. Hearing nothing besides their own thoughts and their heartbeat unnerves them. The only thing they feel once they calm themself is the cold beginning to seep in. The only changing stimulus are a few flickering stars in the distance. The beauty is becoming unnerving to them as they stare at the unchanging landscape of space. They can't help but think about how lonely they are. They've concluded that there are no other living things close enough to them to interact with, good or bad. The isolation is almost worse than the cold, and the boredom. they can't do anything but stare at an unchanging field of stars, and think to themself. Their thoughts aren't too comforting anymore. Hopefully they can awaken in a less lonely place.
Author's Note: This is for @local-ground-apple I hope it's to your liking! Also this is my first story on Tumblr that isn't about Xavier "Flare" Blackscythe, though I think it's angsty enough for him.
tw: blood, death, trauma
The cold rain drips down the window like blood. The image burnt into my mind flashes before me once again. The air was thick with the smell of fresh blood, and the ground was stained red. The bodies were gone, but death lingered in the air. My mind screamed, "run...RUN!" Yet my body did not move. I was frozen, in terror. What could have caused so much death so quickly? I had been gone less than five minutes, and when I returned the crowded field was left barren. Not another soul in sight. Did a bomb go off? Aliens? Was I sucked into some other reality? Or maybe I was the one that died, and this was Hell. Nobody ever found out what truly happened. Some sort of massacre that I was "lucky" to survive. Yet here I am, traumatized, lonely, pained by the guilt of surviving. It's been a year now, but I can see the image as though it was before me now. The smell has never left me, nor the pain. I lost everything I loved that day, but don't worry my love...I will join you soon.
