Angela wanted to scream the longer the squared path continued through the mountainside. If not for the occasional rock on the side, she would have questioned whether she was moving down the smooth path at all. Everything on the rectangular road was the same gray slab of rock—no texture, no roughness. She tried to imagine splattered invaders along the walls as if it was the perfect canvas, but the blandness corrupted her imagination to where even an amorphous splatter was hard to picture. A couple times, she thought to turn back, but the possibility of the phantoms chasing close after prevented her from doing as such.
She turned to look at her legs, but closed her eyes as she took in the carefully sewn skirt and coat. The darkness seemed a comforting companion as Angela marched down the road. The fingers of her mech twitched as they longed to feel the bodies of her opponents in them, or she imagined as such since the machine didn’t relay the sensations back to her.
A scream finally escaped her lips, and she punched a crater into the wall to her side. It helped relieve some frustration, but only a little.
“That wall must have had it coming!” the familiar voice of an old man came from above. She turned, half expecting to see Helmet, but no one was there. She had imagined it.
“Shut up!” she shouted to no one. The last thing she wanted was five more ghosts following her.
The Reaper stood motionless like it had frozen. Angela was equally petrified within. Should I have stayed with them? The thought entered her mind. She wasn’t sure what the right decision was anymore, but she felt as if she had been at peace for a brief part of her journey.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
“Nonsense,” Angela whispered in a low tone before her machine burst forward in a sudden sprint. She didn’t bother to stop until a break in the road appeared in the distance. Slowing down, she approached cautiously. After a few more steps, it became clear that the break was a turning point where the road split into a ‘T.’ A few more steps closer and the sounds of gunfire became audible. Heavy smashes from machines and the distorted hum of laser shots followed. A battle.
Angela grinned so wide her chin might have looked like it was about to fall off. Finally, something to distract herself had come. She eagerly turned the corner and looked down the road that descended to a large Worm building. At the bottom of the hill, a familiar man with a bandana strapped around his head was backing to the rocky mountainside; two Reapers and a swarm of Worms slowly pressed him closer to the dead end.
“Shit!” Angela cried.
The Reaper took a heavy step forward, then froze. Was there any point in helping a dead man? What if her help caused his death? The two thoughts danced as if they were doing tango in her mind, and she clenched shaky hands around the hair on the sides of her head. It took every ounce of her to resist pulling the strands in hopes it might pull her away from the scene.
“What do you want to do?” the voice of Dalila seemed to echo from somewhere. Angela was sure it was another memory; it had nothing to do with the present moment.
“I just need to leave; they wanted to die anyway. Even if I helped, not one of them would be left.” She turned and marched the machine away from the scene—getting several steps away before stopping. She let free a heavy sigh and turned back. Her hands were freed from her hair and calmly folded above her lap.
“I’m an idiot,” she said, before charging down the carved path.