The sickly sweet metallic smell of blood filled her lungs, mixed with a putrid rot. It was the heaviest yet and it seeped into her mouth and clung to the back of her throat. Like sitting in an overly warm room it sat on her tongue.

Summer elected to keep her breaths short and shallow until she got used to or could ignore it. She closed her eyes and listened, Mensha’s measured breaths resounded beside her. The humming was barely audible from above, through where precisely she couldn’t tell. She hoped it was on the intact side.

She avoided the bodies as best she could as she skirted toward the stairs. Careful never to look into their twisted face. She stepped through several partially dried puddles of blood, the burgundy substance, sticking to her shoes and leaving partial prints as she walked.

She wanted to search the entire building, but the unknown posed by the hum and Mensha’s justifiable concern dissuaded her. She would finish this and then decide on their next step after.

She wound up the surprisingly bloodless stairs to the next floor. It had the same air of hasty escape, with many doors flung open and others shut.

Mensha took the lead and they continued up, she watched his back as he slowly climbed the stairs. His gaze roamed along every step before committing. He found nothing but hairline cracks along the wall.

“I guess nothing is collapsing.” She said in a light if tired tone.

“Perhaps” She could feel his rolling eyes. “Or maybe the wall’s interior is ruined and it’s patiently waiting to collapse when we least expect it”

“Yes Mensha, I’m sure the walls have it out for us..” She huffed and shook her head.

“I’m glad we agree.” He said a hint of humor amidst his dry words.

They ascended the empty building following the hum. The building’s damage grew on every floor. Cracks marred the walls and more than a few steps had pieces missing.

Gaze fixed on her next step, she turned and looked at the next flight of stairs to find them covered in rubble. She looked up finding the stairs above her missing, Blood leaked off the next floor’s landing. Painting the stones before her a muddy red.

She sighed and hopped across the mess. She paused on the other side and examined the break as she Mensha crossed. They ascended the final steps to the gap that separated them from the next floor.

She could jump the Several meters separated the end of the staircase from the landing. However while she was confident in her strength she wasn’t so sure in her finesse. The railing still mostly stood, if buckled in the middle, but shimming across it was an even idea.

She peeked the top of a half-open door from her angle and the hum was clearly audible from its other side.

“I left the rope,” he said. She squeezed his shoulder, she didn’t want him upset with himself on top of everything else.

“Lesson learned,” she said and returned to contemplating her path forward. “Any other ways up.”

“Not to this wing of the building,” she glanced at him, “the building has different section and they’re only accessible from the bottom floor.”, Lack of sleep was really getting to her or was it exhaustion.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Their gaze followed a drop of blood as it fell from the landing onto the jagged stones below. They exchanged glances her hand still on his shoulder. A thought struck, and she quickly pushed it away, glancing away as she did. He squinted at her.

“You have and idea.” He stated.

She sighed and shifted uneasily. “A very stupid one.”

His expression softened. “Its not stupid if it works,” he said.

She squirmed harder. “I could,” she looked away,”Throw you,” she finished in a small voice.

“Throw me,” he tasted the statement, “Like a ragdoll.” Heat touched her cheeks.

She caught a smile on his lips, “Precisely,” she said with pride.

Her stern face broke as a grin split his. She chuckled with him.

“But seriously, It could work.” After their brief moment.

“How,” he quirked his brow.

“Well, you know how you give someone a leg over a wall,” he nodded, “that but I’ll throw you over the gap, then I’ll jump and you catch me.”

He tapped a finger to his lip, then pointed to the stairs below the landing. “Why don’t you help me up, rather than throw me across”

Embarrassment returned to her, “That sounds good.”

He pat her shoulder as he turned down the stairs. “It’s your idea, I just helped it shine.”

She followed him down and they cleared the space below the landing.

She crouched and cupped her hand, lightly bouncing to ready her tired legs. Walking for hours and climbing stairs all day left her sore, she loathed to imagine her state if her light wasn’t aiding her.

Mensha stepped into her hands and she suppressed a shudder at the sticky mess of blood and dust that coated his shoes. She closed her eyes and focused on the task. “Tell me when you’re ready,”

He silently settled, “Go,”

She heaved with a grunt and he flew out of her hands. She took a step back and steadied herself as her gaze followed him. His feet scrambled over the edge and he fell silent.“You okay?” he didn’t respond, had ge seen the red?

“Yes.” He answered dismissing her fears, “Hurry up.” His chest poked over the edge, hand dangling. Both covered in old blood. She stifled a sight, there had to be more bodies.

She jumped and caught his slippery hand, she held tight as he pulled her up with much effort. Before she caught the uneven ledge and dragged herself over.

Blood and flesh greeted her. Bodies not beaten but mangled were scattered over the small landing. Her light illuminated vaguely familiar organs peeking through the door. A disembodied eye stared back at her, from a pink and white pile. Her stomach lurched and her hand raced to catch the rising bile. It brought a heavy smell and cool chunky wetness.

She heaved, her vomit mixing with the blood and catching her shoes. Nauseous she pitched back, Mensha caught her before she fell over the edge and led her away. He closed the door leaving them with the mangled bodies, she was thankful for it. Her light fell hiding what remained in gloom.

She closed he eyes and took a deep breath to calm her sick stomach but when she closed her eyes the scattered red and pink viscera assaulted her. Her eyes snapped open and she swallowed her rising sick.

She turned to Mensha, desperate for anything to pull her mind away. “How are you holding up,” she half croaked from her suddenly dry throat.

“Okay,” he said far calmer than her though his vacant stare, said differnt “I cut my hand on the edge but beyond that and some leg pain I’m fine.” He said bringing to mind a hard hike rather than, the, the, “How are your hands?

Bloody, “Some scrapes, but nothing else,” she said instead.

She pulled him into a side hug, and the pair stared at the door. By some silent agreement.

“Do you think the ceiling is pretty,” her scattered thought clung to his smooth voice, though she forgot the words as he said them. “I think the lights are interesting, like growing overlapping lattices of light.”

“Ya,” she swallowed a crack that threatened to break her voice, and let mindless words carry her “but I prefer the milky way. You know I saw it when I went to the woods.” And I might never see it again, the thought rose unbidden, and she couldn’t muster the focus to push it away.

“I’m sure we’ll see it again.” He squeezed her close.

She chuckle, at what she didn’t know but in seconds it spilled into loud laughter. Maybe it was the unflinching optimism he held only when things were at their worst. Or the sheer ridiculousness, of it. They weren’t talking about the bodies, about the blood staining her lips, or the closing hum on the other side of the door.

She snapped violently back to reality and flared to full light.

The closing hum.