“The hell do you mean we can’t leave? I brought a personal transport cart here; what sense is it saying I can’t leave by just using it again?!”

Rye furiously barked at a well dressed, finely spoken chauffeur of the business cart. Together with Traz, he had hoped they could leave the crumbling city as soon as possible. But his goal was completely ruined by the entrances being closed off as they spoke.

“Sorry sir, but the government declared an emergency that no one may enter or leave due to some political unrest downtown. Believe me, if I could leave now, I would too. This city is nothing but delusional trouble, and I want nothing to do with it.” The man let out a sigh as he pointed over to the transport cart lot. “They say everything should be back to operations soon, and to check back with them in a day or two.”

The gentlemen lightly nodded his head, and lifted his cap as if to show he was genuinely sorry he couldn’t be of help.

“Mr. Rye, what is political unrest?” Traz, who had been focused on the escape being barred off, curiously asked.

Rye slumped against a support beam that was used to hold a “Welcome to Venisi!” sign.

“It’s when a bunch of common-minded people grow to hate their government, where most of the time it’s for a good cause. But this...I can’t fathom why even a single soul would rebel in this place. And why?!” Rye tossed his hands in the air in frustration, still pissed about not being able to leave. “Who’s unrestful?! Everyone I see seems content, so where’s this unrest at?”

From what Rye saw, the entrance plaza had dozens of civilians casually minding their business without any care. In what way were they unhappy? Venisi’s government must not know how their people really feel if they’re locking us up for nothing.

Though if Rye had to guess, the assassination he witnessed at arms length was probably the reason for all this.

“Mr. Rye.” Traz asked, tugging away at his coat. She raised her arm, pointing to the plaza. “Those...people; why do they seem so lost?”

“Lost?” Rye questioned, puzzled. He thought back to a similar strange incident where she had pointed to the ground, and she had noticed the Ravagers before he even knew something was coming. Could be a gut feeling, or an incredible instinct. Not entirely sure what any of it meant himself, Rye focused on the present. “What exactly do you mean by lost?”

“It’s just that, they all want to hold on to something very dear to them, but can’t.” Traz couldn’t help but look at them in pity. “They’ll be going to sleep soon; very soon.”

Rye raised a brow, watching the girl watch with a hint of sorrow in her face. “Traz…?”

“Hmm? Aha, I’m sorry Mr. Rye, I’m just a bit sleepy is all!” The little girl snapped back from her strange daze, returning back to the same Traz as before. “But I’m tired. Mr. Rye, can we sleep?”

“Heh, if you can recover with that speed, I’m sure you’re fine.” Rye cackled. “How about we find an inn, with a bed and breakfast even?”

Rye figured Traz was probably hungry too, and decided he shouldn’t bother himself worrying about what she said.

“Oooh, Yummy! I’m hungry, so we should sleep!”

“Fine, calm down.” He couldn’t help but smile as Traz bounced around while leaning on his arm. “Now where should we go…”

Remembering his time at the resupply shop, a small sign in front of an apartment scraper offered guest rooms for quite a cheap price of ammo, and a signature…

“Actually, maybe we shouldn’t.” From crazy lunatics to a mystery killer, Rye grew to dislike the strange culture of the city. And their idea of removing their glass dome? It had to be some kind of sick prank.

But with the twisted expressions of the people and their blind devotion behind a lonesome piece of paper, the idea of sleeping in a city with delirious civilians irked Rye. He couldn’t bear to let Traz be swooped up by the contagious stupidity of a cult. It was their fault for putting a dome in the first place, and from what Rye saw, workers behind the signatures urged for the dome removal project, but then would only stare off in the above as if it was the only thing in sight.

No matter how Rye could slice it, he had no clue what any of Venisi’s citizens were actually thinking. So much had changed since he last named them the best weapons manufacturer, where each individual family could produce their own unique gun. The city wasn’t cluttered like it is now, and people weren’t so muddled.

Now, every building stacks upon one another, even coming from the walls and ceilings of the cave. Streets illuminated from mystifying lighting, and voices were being projected when nobody was there.

And of course, the dome that hovered above the city.

But what puzzled Rye the most was why make a transparent dome to the above in the first place? The amount of materials, and human resources lost, must have taken a great toll. Especially with the Mist…

“—Excuse me, sir?”

The old chauffeur interrupted, dragging him back from his thoughts.

“Pardon me if incorrect, but do I recall your desire for an area of rest to be right? If so, I could allow yourselves a fine place to stay, away from this corrupted city, and rest within the confines of my precious property.”

As every word flowed elegantly, the chauffeur's proposal seemed like an escape from reality. The business cart, or his “precious property”, was overly sized and well fashioned, being it’s only purpose was delivering people from point A to B. And comfortably at that.

“Well, if you're offering I’ll grab, depending on price.” Rye asked, knowing a luxury room secluded from the city wasn’t cheap.

“On the house.” The chauffeur calmly reassured Rye and his wallet under his scuffed tone. “I fear this entire city is no longer good for my business, and you being a father must put an unbearable strain upon yourself, knowing Venisi has fallen under political discourse. And if I had a say in it, there is no way worse of becoming a monster than controlling people with false information, and giving them a false idea.”

“Heh, I more or less agree. But are you sure about letting us rest without any pay?” Rye asked, knowing it was a great deal to house them for free.

“With pleasure. Just...put a good name for me out there during your travels, if you could.”

With an added wink and feeble smile, the chauffeur motioned for Rye to follow. Rye began to, but noticed Traz was looking into the crowd of Venisi with a distant expression.

“Traz? This nice old man is allowing us to sleep in his cool cart, we should thank him.”

“Oh...thank you kind Mr.! I’m so sleepy after all this walking, I could get lost!”

Twisting away from the citizens, Traz happily grabbed Rye’s hand, making her way onto the business cart. But before the old man closed the doors from the outside, she took one last glance at Venisi, muttering how sad before dashing off from one cart to another.

Upon entering the chauffeur’s business cart, the two were greeted by a well lit diner area, where normal customers would be able to indulge in food before heading to their room. The chauffeur was kind enough to allow Traz to eat free for kids, and even offered Rye a free meal; but he refused, feeling it was wrong to keep accepting the old man's gracious acts and convinced the chauffeur to pay the fee.

After their meal, they followed the chauffeur further down the tightly narrow path of red carpet to their rooms. Apart from their footsteps and the fire from the candlelight's that hung across the walls, the nearly empty cart gave Rye an eerie chill from its silent air.

The chauffeur hardly spoke whatsoever, and Traz had been glued to the surrounding art to say anything, so the only sounds Rye heard were the patterns of their steps and the constant flickering from the candles.

The chauffeur led them to a door leading to a separate cart, which held the suites. “Pardon my saying so, but I figured selecting the cart furthest from the entrance would allow you and your daughter the most peace; especially apart from any unwanted visitors.”

“I...understand. Thank you for your concern.”

Rye felt the door's pressure as it closed behind him. The chauffeur made no effort to look back, and continued moving forward.

A red carpet presented them a linear path, with three wooden doors on each side leading to individual suite sections of the cart. The walls were stainless metal, with surprising maintenance done to keep it rust free.

They followed the old man to the end of the cart, then to the next just to repeat this process, Rye found them to be exactly similar. Even the next. And the next.

Until finally, the chauffeur stopped at the end of the fifth cart door, and slowly pointed to the middle door. “Here is your room for the evening. Enjoy your stay and have a splendid night.”

“I appreciate this. We’ll be sure to use this.” Rye awkwardly replied, still feeling a bit scummy for accepting such a nice place for nothing.

“Thank you Sir! You’re a nice old man!”

As Traz let a yawn escape her, Rye eyed the chauffeur, who was already pacing back to the front cart.

“My my, how did I forget.” The chauffeur grimly said, stopping in place with arms behind his back. “I beg of you to reside in your rooms during night, and not to leave until morning arrives. Or preferably, until the government gives the all clear for carts to leave.”

“I...understand.” Rye cautiously answered. “I’ll be sure to keep it all in mind, thank you again.”

The chauffeur held a silver ring that housed what looked like dozens of keys. He seemed to know which was their room instantly without flipping through any as he instantly picked a key and used it, to which it unlocked the door.

“And the room is yours to enjoy. Now, if I’ll take my leave, I wish you two the best in your sleep.”

Rye watched as the chauffeur took his leave, while Traz impatiently barged right in with a groggy grin, finding herself to be surprised by a familiar creature on the walls.

“Mr. Rye! Look at these Ravagers things on the wall! Hehe, they’re kind of cute up close when they’re not trying to bite us.”

Knowing instantly what she must’ve been talking about.. “Well, that’s probably because a taxidermist made a mockery of the bastard. Don’t know who would do that, or who would pay for something like it, but I’m sure it wasn’t cheap.”

Rye shot a quick glance back at the hall where the chauffeur was. But all he saw was a bare candle that lit the silver walls and wooden doors of the hallway, otherwise leaving it empty. Strange, I’m sure I would’ve heard the door close if he left.

“Hurry Mr. Rye! What are you waiting for? It’s bedtime!” Traz grew impatient, causing Rye to shrug off the chauffeur and enter their room for the night.

There wasn’t much to the room, but it was enough. A bed, a desk with a candle, and another taxidermy ravager neatly packed in a viewing frame.

Satisfied with what he got, Rye turned and closed the door which caused a creaking sound that echoed throughout the hall. He remembered the words of the chauffeur and how he should be careful, Rye figured he should lock the door to prevent any psycho cultist from breaking in. Afterwards, Rye pulled the chair from the desk and rested himself.

“Mr. Rye...you can’t sleep there! That’s not a bed, silly.”

“I’m aware. There are a few pieces of work I have to complete before I can go to bed, so sleep ahead of me.” Lifting a compass and map from his satchel, Rye unrolled the map and flattened it across the surface. Upon searching for their current location, Venisi city, Rye circled the area with his pencil, making a note of what tunnels they came from. Next, he drew out where other tunnels leaving the city led east, using a compass and map to calculate their best route. Determining which route they used meant using previous knowledge of tunnels, and estimating bandit or animal damage on—

—Tucked under cozy brown covers, Traz twisted and turned, until finally, she lifted her head from the depths. “Mr. Rye, may you please tell a bedtime story?”

“Oh?” He twisted his head to look at the girl sheepishly rubbing her eyes. “Trouble sleeping?”

She slowly nodded, grasping the hem of the blanket. “Will you pleeeaase?”

“I don’t really know any stories though…”

“But you’re so old!” Traz argued. “You have to at least have one story to share!”

One story, huh? All the stories Rye heard growing up were tales of the above, and how much of a fantasy everyone made it out to be. Though, since growing old he knew better than to trust such a blinding idea. Nothing about the outside was magical, and all the stories his mom would softly explain were harsh lies. So of course, there was no way Rye could tell Traz such a lie. There was no reason not to tell her the cruel truth, and she’d probably find it interesting anyway.

“Oh, how about ‘The divers’ story.” Rye clasped his hands together, grinning at his creation of a story.

“The diver story? Tell me, tell me!” She eagerly pushed the covers from her, sitting up to prepare her ears.

“Now, it starts like this: In a strange particular moment of time, a baby was born. He knew nothing of the world around him upon opening his eyes, except only that of his mother. His father on the other hand, well, let’s just say he was wasting time on a completely meaningless task.”

Traz curiously watched with gleaming eyes as Rye continued his story.

“But the mother and little diver still managed without him. While growing up, the little diver often found himself away from where normal children would go. He was usually by his mother's side helping her with any work or cleaning needed to be done around the house. That was until one fateful, horrific day; a young girl similar to his age came by. She had gotten along so well with the other kids, always swaying them to believe her and follow her perspective. Well, on one especially busy day, the school—or the place where children would often spend much of their time learning basic applications—decided to take a trip around the city.”

“School…” Traz muttered to herself. “Is it any fun?”

“I’m sure it is, long as you find the right people to experience it with.” He put a finger to his bottom lip, trying to remember if school was actually any fun. “Anyways, back to the story.”

“Kay!”

“This young girl, who...let’s call talkie. Talkie practically had everyone under an emotional binding, young and old. On this particular city trip, the school stopped by the young divers house, asking if he wanted to come. The mother urged him to go, but he insisted on staying with his mother to help. The teachers looked at one another nodding as they understood their situation, so they left with the rest of the class. The mother asked why the diver decided not to go with the others, and he replied:

“Why would I, when there’s still many things around for us to do?”

“Rye…” Mother sighed as she carefully worked on dusting a book. “I understand you want to help around, but there are still things you have to learn from school around other kids your age.”

The boy swept dust from the cracked wooden floor, watching the school kids leave together in laughter and smiles. “But who else will help around the house? Dad? I have to carry on his duties.” Even with a squeaky tone, Rye still managed to sound adult like. “Besides, I can always teach myself the necessities, so I can skip school.”

“Rye, even if you skip the educational portion, you’re still missing out on the crucial social experience.” She continued to scold him, putting down the adroitly wiped and scrubbed book.

Cleaning and preserving books was all mother ever did, as she said it was her job to make sure they were neat and professional for buyers. He had no clue what made the books so important, but mother made a living off it, so that’s all that really mattered.

“I firmly believe you should still go, but if you insist on staying here, then I won’t fight. Just...don’t let me tether you down; I rather you live your life than you help me live mine.”

“Mooom!” Rye hid his blushing face under his arm, quickly turning to face the other way. “Don’t say that! I’m here ‘cause I wanna be, not because you’re making me!”

Mother covered her giggle in a ladylike manner. “Fine, but I’ll use you like an actual worker, so be prepared for that!”

“Then let’s get to it!” Rye raised his arm in the air, oblivious to the horrendous amount of work ahead.

It was scrubbing, wiping, sweeping, cooking…

The list went on, and Rye felt the pain of a nonstop list of chores beating away his young stamina.

—But it was necessary. With a smile, and a burning passion for work, Rye scrubbed the counters and walls. He helped mother wipe some of the books that were least important. He swept the floors with everything he had. He prepared mushroom soup, and did the laundry. All of it was necessary, simply because there was no one else who would do it.

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Gah...I’m practically finished for the day! Rye beamed at his work, before noticing the clock they kept atop their cabinet. Woah, I’ve been at this for that long? I should get a few hours of sleep before dinner…

As he pondered what to do next, a few knocks came from the window, interrupting his thoughts.

“Ryyye!” Mother called from her work space. “Can you check who that might be, I’m busy working on an important text.”

“Alright!” He yelled back, lifting himself from the stool he sat on and walked towards the window. I wonder if it’s a delivery man, or maybe even a buyer! Thinking about the possibilities, Rye rushed over to the window quickly unlocking and sliding it open, shoving his face out to peek.

“Heya!” A face suddenly popped up an inch away from him.

“Huh?!” Rye jumped back, crashing on the freshly swept floors.

“Hello!” Instead of his expected arrivals, there stood an observing girl with hair in a strangely bright color of red. Rye recognized her clothing as being the standard school uniform of their elementary branded leather jumpsuit. “Are you Rye?”

Still taken aback by the girl's sudden appearance, Rye aggressively bit back at her calm demeanor.

“And what of it?! Last I remember, people don’t just show up to other peoples' windows!”

The red haired girl said nothing, merely observing him. A nerve was starting to rip inside him.

“Y’know, you’re a lot dirtier than I imagined you to be.”

Another set of nerves burst.

“And what of it! We can only shower so often to save water supplies, and I still need to make a trip to the reservoir and refill...aw crap, why’d you remind me this early?!”

Rye collapsed, squirming on the floor as he thought about the dastardly trip he still needed to take for this week's water resupply. And he usually didn’t have to go through this torment until the day came that he actually needed to go.

“You’re a really strange and stupid boy.” The red haired girl nonchalantly spoke out. Rye lifted his head to see she was peeking above the window. “Want to come with us for the class trip?”

Rye’s brow raised upon hearing her invitation, but immediately willed out a response. “Sorry; I can’t. Maybe next time, though.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head.

“Fine, then I’ll stay here and help you clean until you can.” With a smile implying she wasn’t backing down, the red haired girl climbed the window, and rolled herself inside. “Dirty here too...I take it you don’t have much of anything?”

The girl scanned his house with precision, carefully looking between every crack and seam the house offered. “Oh, I’m Kelli by the way.” She randomly spurred out, before taking another hit at him. “What else could you possibly have to clean?”

“Well-er, I mean I’m done with everything else other than cooking, but the broth takes a while to heat!”

Waiting for her usual cold bite, the girl's stomach instead made the first move by softly growling. “Cool, ‘cause I’m hungry!”

“Your whole demeanor switched?! Is it because the time seemed right? You’re just here to leech off our food!”

“Am not!” Kelli joyfully raised her voice, while Rye continued shouting “Leecher!”

“Rye,” his mother shouted from her work space. “Is something wrong? What’s this yelling all about, and who’s visiting?”

“Nobody important. Just a Rat.” Rye called back, while Kelli turned to make a sour expression. “An annoying one at that.” He added.

“Oh?” Mother peeked from her work room, and a grin spread across her face upon seeing Kelli. “Why hello there, why don’t you have dinner with us! Rye’s cooking so it’s bound to be tasty!”

Now mother had betrayed him, and while watching mother run up to Kelli, grasping her hands as if they were long time friends, a thought began to bubble. Today’s going to be annoying, I just know it.

To his surprise, the day drifted by instead of dragging. He gave Kelli a small house tour, which wasn’t much since there were only two rooms, which was the main room and mothers work room. After that, she followed him to his soup, and together, they bickered at one another while waiting for the food to finish.

The family of two then held dinner with Kelli. Mother seemed intrigued with Kelli as she rambled on and on with her. She seemed to like the girl who broke into their house so much that she would often glare at him whenever he stuck his tongue out at Kelli.

And from the girl, or Kelli—she seemed to have enjoyed the food, even if it clearly wasn’t her forte of meals. After downing two bowls, she gave a sneering compliment to the chef, to which Rye frowned, muttering:

“Pft, I wish you choked on a loose mushroom.”

The family kept up chatting with Kelli until hours passed, and the school trip had clearly ended long ago. But even while she missed the experience, Kelli happily declared this was much better than having to walk around stuffy machines with other kids.

“I oughta get going, or my mom will have the entire city hunting for me.”

“About time…”

“Rye!” He recoiled, feeling a sting in his side. “Of course dear, and do be sure to come back anytime now!”

As he rubbed his side, Rye watched as the red haired girl burst into a bright smile. “Of course! I might even come every day!”

“Please don’t.” He blankly said.

“Rye!”

As the girl gave a wave and smile, she left back for her home. Rye made a point to not bother giving her any more attention, but his mother gave him another pinch as punishment, causing him to wave back to finally be let free.

A restful night passed, and the start of a new cycle of work began. Rye had a new list of chores, and more books to wipe off, as like any other day.

But just as he feared, the red haired girl came again. The day went on with similar hindrances as the last, where they yelled back and forth at each other.

Then the next day, she came.

As the next.

And the next after.

She continued showing up to their house, repeating the same patterns like some kind of daily routine. This kept up for a while, maybe even a year.

A whole year, until…

“...”

“Gahhhhhhhhhhhh…” An overly loud, yet peaceful snoring filled the cart, bringing Rye back from his headspace.

How long have I been asleep? Rye glanced at the clock. Two hours had passed since he tucked Traz in.

Figuring he should get to sleep too, he set aside his materials, and flopped in the bed alongside Traz. Whew, what a day. Almost as if I could just drift off in an instant… he thought.

But before dozing off, he took a look at Traz, who was sound asleep, and an image of Kelli flashed in his head.

Those were the days…huh, Kelli?

Rye swiftly fell asleep; his mind drifting off into dreams of his memories.

***

A feeling, a strong desire; one that would interrupt anyone, no matter the importance or value of their task. Traz was peacefully asleep, without a care for a thing. A grin plastered across her face and she snored as if she were wailing while Rye told her a bedtime story, filling her tiny heart with joy.

But her tranquil rest had been suddenly interrupted by a malevolent force unparalleled to any other when one sleeps.

“I’ve gotta pee!” Traz sheepishly declared, lifting herself from the covers and onto her feet. Wobbling her way to the door, she rubbed her drowsy eyes as she left their room. She entered the dimly lit hallway, where her soles tickled the comfy feeling from the ground.

She glanced from one end to the next, tilting her sleepy head in frustration. “Mr. Rye said no more peeing in corners or buckets, so where do I go…?”

“...Traz…”

A similar, ensnaring voice beckoned to her. Traz slowly turned her gaze to the voices direction, wide eyed, and fear quickly overcame her.

“Please...let me have you to myself.”

The girl's scared expression instantly washed away and formed a smile as she took the silhouettes hand. As they left, the lights that burned were snuffed out by a pinch, encasing the cart with a shadowy void.

***

“Argh...shit.”

Rye rubbed his forehead from a bastardly headache as he slowly picked himself up from the covers. He blinked a couple times to let his eyes adjust, before feeling his side to see if Traz was still asleep.

“?!”

Rye’s focus instantly perked up as blood rushed to his head, and he got up to pull the covers completely off the bed.

“Traz?!” He shouted, but only to empty space.

He quickly searched around, hoping to find where she went.

But, she wasn’t on the floor, or in the closet he had stored the rest of his supplies in. She might have gone for a bathroom break, but for how long?

Rye remembered his stored timer in his pocket, and frantically dug through it to find the time. Feeling the cold metal texture of a circular object, Rye quickly lifted the device, with the time reading it had been six hours since he last checked it.

“C’mon girl, stop scaring me like this!” He called out once more. In a daze, Rye began pacing around in a small circle muttering to himself while viciously nibbling at his bottom lip. “Maybe...maybe she went out? But why would she go out…?”

And without hesitation, Rye walked up to the wooden door of their room, finding it was somewhat cracked open, and figured she must have left to use the restroom.

“Poor girl; she must not know her way around business carts such as these! If all she needed to do was go potty, then why not shove me until I awoke?!”

Still muttering to convince himself, Rye stepped into the dark hallway of the transport cart. If Traz left in darkness, where he couldn’t even see his hands stretched out before him, then how would she know where the bathroom is?

His lip grew numb under the heavy pressure of his teeth, and he even tasted small amounts of iron amongst his saliva. But he ignored it, and focused purely on finding Traz.

In the hall, the candles from before were now out.

“Why is it so dark…?.”

As Rye reached into his satchel for a light, his nose was able to pick up a unique scent.

Still a bit groggy, it was difficult to accurately follow, but if his nose serves right…

Rye gripped his metallic lighter, raising it to the dark. He gave it one pluck, but nothing came. He gave it a few more clicks, until a dim light spread throughout the cart…

...Which revealed crimson liquid sprayed all throughout the cart, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. With his heart pounding, Rye swayed the light around in hopes of seeing the one thing he feared the most. He searched, but only saw a trail of dense blood, as if someone had been dragged while bleeding.

On high alert, Rye prepared himself for the worst.

The trail led into a differing guest room. With his right hand, he aimed his pistol out incase of any sudden ambushes, while he used his left to keep up his source of light, as well as a way to support his shooting arm.

Rye followed the trail of blood, until he reached its end. A door similarly furbished the same as their sleeping room awaited before him. He stood frozen, keeping a steady ear out for anything.

The sound of the room was barren. Nothing came out. Just the heaving breath of a worried man and the fire of his lighter was all he could notice.

Traz, please, don’t do this to me... Even if only meeting her a few days prior, a strong bond formed between the unlikely two. He couldn’t explain it, since this felt like an entirely new feeling to him, Rye knew she was his responsibility. He had to make it up to her for bringing her to this corrupted city thinking she would be safer here than with him. Now all that remained was to look behind the door and see what had happened.

“Hello?” Rye called out. He lightly knocked on the frame, tapping it in small bursts of doubles. “Traz? Sir chauffeur? Please, answer…” With each anxious second that passed, Rye found the wait unbearable. So, he prepared his shoulders, and began bashing the door with his body strength. He recoiled from the hit, and took a step back to rest his arm. But the door was still hinged, almost as if nothing had struck it.

Fine, be a bitch.

With another deep breath, Rye rammed the door again. And again. And again…

Traz, I promised to get you somewhere safe. I know I’m lagging behind on that now, but I swear I’ll get you out of this town, even if it kills me…!

Pieces of wood flew off from the doors center, causing small cracks to form instead of completely breaking it down. His arm was numb from the pain, and was sure there were countless splinters and blisters.

But what he felt didn’t matter. It was Traz, and the loneliness she must be feeling. And in order to alleviate her seclusion, he needed to reach her now.

As Rye rushed the door, a unique breeze of wind seemingly entered in the air as if it assisted his push, causing him and the door to fall together. He landed on an awkwardly erect splinter attached to the door pointing upward, where it easily entered his left shoulder. He silently bit his bottom lip while face down in grimace.

Rye made it into the room where the blood trail led. All he needed to do was pull out the lighter, and see whose corpse lay a few feet before him. Clasping the lighter in his pocket, a feeling kept him from pulling it out any further.

C’mon bastard...just get it over with.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Rye pulled the lighter out, and flicked its light. Its reach spread throughout the room, where it revealed a blood coated room. The desk, bed and it's sheets, and the carpet were all drenched in tainted crimson. And on the bed, lay a mutilated corpse of a person. The body laid with the head dangling off the foot end, and the neck had been viciously cut with strings of their esophagus pulled outside like yarn being yanked from its thread and loosely hung out.

Though there was no recognizing the person, he could tell—it wasn’t Traz. The person was too tall and had a completely different build than Traz’s. Rye’s expression fell into a cold smile as he looked down at the corpse with joy:

“It’s not her...thank you, and rest easy whoever you are.”

As the feeling of pain grew in his shoulder, Rye gripped the piece of wood that pierced it, and ripped it out. Blood quickly oozed from the wound, which Rye had to quickly cover to prevent severe blood loss.

But a new mission entered his mind as his smile went serious.

Find Traz, before whoever's out there does.

A murderer was on the loose, and whether it was the cult, or a random psychopath, there was only one way to solve the problem.

Rye picked himself up, dusted off splintered wood from his coat, and dashed to his room for his supplies. He needed to properly treat his wound if he wanted to appropriately handle the situation. Because the moment he gets a hold of Traz, he would do everything to escape Venisi city with her.

Wrapping cloth around his wound, Rye took hold of his supplies and dashed from the room. A worried expression put a strain across his face as he entered the red hallway with a dim light. Where could Traz have gone? Who murdered the person on the bed? What happened to the others…

Rye swayed his head back and forth at a loss of the situation. But the ever echoing silence barred the impression no one else was aboard.

“Traz!” He shouted as he went to neighboring doors, banging his fist against them. “Hello?! Is anybody there? Have you heard of a little girl anywhere near…” He slammed his fist against each door, the seams cracking, until the door suddenly flew wide open. Without waste, Rye lifted his light to brighten the room and its surroundings.

Glancing inside, Rye instantly came to realize why no one answered his shouts and banging against the door. A similar corpse lay kneeling on the floor prostrating, almost as if they were begging for something. Shifting his light closer for inspection, he could see the same clawing at the throat, leading to bits and pieces dangling.

Rye began to question whether a sane person could even be responsible for this. With the clawing, and bodies that were beaten beyond recognition, another possibility came to mind. All he needed to do was check the iris of the deceased for any dilated pupils. That is, if the face hadn’t been beaten too badly.

He took a cautious step. Then a more impatient step. Until finally, he reached the corpse and pulled its head back, revealing half the face was still intact.

Looking deep into the preserved eye. And sure enough, it was dilated.

Cursing under his breath, Rye released the head, making a thump sound against the carpet.

“This is bad… I’ve gotta find Traz before she inhales anything.”

Biting the lower lip with increasing intensity, he used every bit of knowledge to craft up a plan. If everyone in their section of the cart was dead, then sitting around and observing the corpses did nothing to help. So, the next best option was to search connecting suite carts and search for her there. A little girl couldn’t have gone far, especially with a psyched killer.

Rye wiped off blood from his hand, before rising from the ground. A gassed up killer. It’ll definitely be a bitch to kill…

“Ick?”

—A slow, sudden deep voice croaked from behind.

“Sk-k-k-ks...w-A-nderer…?”

The diver strained himself in not making a single movement; even to look behind. There was no point in checking either way. He knew exactly what was behind him.

“Ksh...someone, d-Ar-es interrupt sleep…?”

The Inhaled.

Rye understood now that this was the cause of the train slaughter. But for one to be so far underground was almost impossible, since a person needs to breathe in Mist from above.

Continuing to stay motionless, Rye had to come up with something, and soon. Terror resonated Rye’s spine as it crudely spoke with a gag in between different words.

The Inhaled weren’t completely blind, but keeping still meant keeping quiet, which gave him a smidgen of time.

Slowly, he reached for his pistol, feeling it's cold embrace. He narrowed his view, tightly gripping the gun and swiftly flipping the auto function.

“Ska—!” The Inhaled gawked. “Failure to see the l-IG-ht, is not just a disgrace-impermissible!! Sk-kssssk—”

From chattering teeth and flesh, to the horrid fluids clogging its throat, the Inhaled, without a doubt, noticed him. Rye twisted his body in a 180, with his pistol drawn and aimed at the Inhaled. From there, he got a perfectly dim view of the fallen human lunging towards him. Across its arms, claw marks indicated the skin was practically being scratched off. The right remaining eye was bloodshot and dilated, violently vibrating with Rye’s reflection, whereas the other was entirely rolled back.

Biting his lower lip, Rye tightly pressed the trigger, unleashing a hail of bullets and flashes of light. Not even a second later, the magazine dropped empty. But to Rye’s dismay, he quickly tossed away the pistol to the side while pulling out his SMG. “Shit…”

“S...k…!”

With its arms spread out ahead, the creature had formed a shield to soak up the rounds, which were all directed near its head, causing both arms to drop in a loopy state. But rather than dying, it’s face awkwardly curved a chilling grin of satisfaction across its face. “Sssssssk, the l-IG-ht is no different from death; why hide from its mesmerizing sal-VA-tion?”

As the creature rushed Rye with damning speed, he flipped the auto of his SMG, spraying a more thunderous array of bullets than his pistol.

The monstrous creature reacted swiftly, moving with its body’s momentum in an arching position to avoid as many bullets as possible. But even a monster can’t out maneuver the wonderful works of guns, and the passing bullets that did hit struck hard against the monster, leaving it to stumble backwards.

“...S…….k…...k...s…..bash in your t-IU-mph, as you are the sickness to this world holding us back...you damn d-IV-er.”

The monster coughed up blood and pus, until twisted its own head with snapping speed to face up at the ceiling.

A loud crack echoed throughout the cart.

“..ksh...It’s calling; I can h-EA-r its song…oh how mesmerizing the melody scr-EA-ms in my head...ks..”

Blood, twisted limbs, and a screeching inner growl poured from the Inhaled, before bending down with languid motion. The creature wrapped its arms around their body, as if it were embracing someone or thing. Muttering its last gasp of nonsensical sayings, the creature prayed under the solidarity pressure of death.

A loose breeze of safety quickly breezed upon Rye. But its moment was merely daft. Somehow, someway, the Mist had breached into Venisi. But how, continued puzzling him.

With Traz still lost out there, Rye took hardly a moment to gather his thoughts. He decided to inspect the corpse of the Inhaled, curious to see who was unlucky enough to have their mind broken. He put his lighter up to the creature's face in hopes he could still identify them.

Light cast over the decayed face. It revealed a more soft expression of a sorrowful older man. He recognized him instantly through the better lighting and less adrenaline moment, knowing him as the chauffeur of the business cart.

Rye paused for a moment to look away, before taking a deep breath.

“Thank you old man, for giving us a place to rest. But I’m sure you’re filled with even more gratitude for breaking you out of hell. Good luck, wherever you go.”

Rye gave the old man his thanks, and covered him up with a bloodied blanket from the nearby bed. Afterwards, he looked towards the door with an uneasy feeling. If there was one Inhaled, why wouldn’t there be more? He slid his backpack across his arm to grab a gas mask.

“I’ll find you soon Traz, I promise. Just be tough ‘till I get ya.”

As he took in a deep breath, the mask would work wonders by preventing any toxins from entering his lungs. Throughout the city, piles of corpses stacked among walkways and alleys.

As for above, white mist covered hovered Venisi as not even a shadow of light dawned from the dome. The only lights were the magic of man with their fireless creations.

Rye sprinted to everywhere he could think of searching for Traz:

The bakery shop that had their distant looming smell, the resupply shop where he left her outside, and even to the spot where he was reunited with her by the woman who was shot; all with no luck in finding her.

Rye bit his lower tongue in frustration. Venisi was just too big a city for him to look around all day, especially if Inhaled were running around. And if Gas were leaking in from the city, that would mean…

Stop! Shaking his head in vigorous motion, Rye smacked his forehead to focus back on track. Just find her and leave. Focus on that and that alone.