Upon watching my mother lowered into her grave, a thought struck me. Who decided that this was the way it was supposed to be? Why did Man accept this? I was but a child then, but I know now what must be done.
-Apotheosis of the Apostate, page 5
The creativity with which her fellow inmates attempted suicide astounded Evelyn, bringing with it a touch of envy. As of day 4 in the Corps she had seen one man attempt a hanging with coiled toilet paper, one inmate attempt to stab herself with the shards of a broken (plastic) fork, another stick an (also plastic) fork in an electrical socket, and a woman stick a shower hose down her throat, nose plugged with toilet paper. Luckily - or rather, sadly - for her, the water pressure was too low for her to drown before a guard could rip the hose out. Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, until the guard and the inmate got frisky with each other. She wasn’t surprised. They were chaperoned every hour of every day, to make sure they didn’t act out in any way.
Evelyn didn’t really get the appeal, however. Should she? In all of her years, she had never really figured that out. Was she supposed to feel like that for others? Was something wrong with her? Maybe. Right now, she lacked the energy to care.
Yesterday’s experience still haunted her. When she had gone to sleep that night, after a thorough questioning from Vanham, she saw the figure in sporadic flashes. That hollow, cosmic voice echoed through her still.
Alone.
She opened her eyes as the lukewarm water stopped flowing. A few days in the Corps and you’re already insane. Well done.
“Evelyn?” Deanna called from a different stall than the new couple. “Shower’s over.”
“Right, right.” She responded.
“By the way, what’s that on your ankle?” Deanna asked.
“Whaddaya looking at my ankle for?”
“Those two black spots aren’t easy to miss, miss.”
Throughout her years, she tended to forget about those black spots. They were small, close together and her biggest regret. Thinking about them brought back the memory of it all, the cold piercing feeling, tumbling into a dark rush of water. Cold radiated through her entire body.
“They’re tattoos.” she said.
“Sure.” She did not seem wholly convinced. “By the way Evi, I’ve been meaning to ask.” She looked her up and down. “Are you…?”
“A woman? Yeah.” She replied, matter-of-factly.
“Cool. Is it a secret, or…?”
“If you’re wonderin’ if you can gossip about it, the answer’s no. It’s not a secret, but I don’t want that to be the way everybody sees me.”
“Don’t worry, wasn’t planning on doing that anyway.”
Evelyn just nodded and went to fetch a towel.
“You know,” Deanna continued, “my sis- well, my brother is like that too.”
“Is she now? Is that where you learned to ask about this stuff instead of giving me the opportunity to tell you in my own time?”
Deanna blushed.“Yeah, I’m sorry.”
“I know. I don’t mind, but just be more careful next time, alright? And please, don’t treat me any differently.”
Deanna nodded.
That didn’t take long. Evelyn reflected.
The shower was surprisingly large. She had counted 50 stalls on her way in, tiny spaces separated only by two walls. The showerheads were equally small, and the water came out in a pitiful trickle. Still, it was better than some of the seawater baths she had taken in the past.
She towelled herself off, slipped into her jumpsuit and headed out into the larger Hygiene-building. Deanna waited by the hallway entrance, looking somewhat longingly towards the Men’s shower.
“Let’s get some grub.” Evelyn said.
“Yeah, you go ahead and grab us a table. I’ll wait for the boys.”
“Why?”
Deanna shook her head. “Magnus isn’t doing too good.”
“Oh.” She scratched at her scab. “I… yeah. Be quick.”
She rubbed some of the sleep from her eyes as she walked; they had only gotten back to the ship a few hours before midnight. After depositing their gear, eating leftovers from dinner and getting chewed out by the staff for taking too long, little time was left to relax. Even so, sleep was as late to arrive as they had been, so she had barely gotten any. She prayed to all there was to pray to that they wouldn’t be sent out again today.
The mess hall was even less populated than it had been the day before. She counted only 11 people from Second Brigade. The ship was so massive that it housed four whole brigades, and she hadn’t seen any of them until yesterday. There were apparently supposed to be around thirty pairs in each brigade, but the world must have run out of the scum that flowed down to places like this. Used them up, more like.
There was no shortage of available benches though, so she went to get some food. She passed Vanham on her way to the countertop. He was eating alone, a sparse breakfast of bread and cheese.
“You.” He stared sternly at her.
“Yeah?”
“Did you lose your partner, inmate?”
“You talked to us both last night, mate, I-”
He slammed the table and rose up. “I am not your blimmin’ mate. I am your superior, and you will refer to me as such. Is that clear?”
The sparse conversation in the hall quickly died out.
“Mate, I was just going to eat.”
He stepped closer, towering over her. “Lieutenant. Say it.”
“Why?”
“Because I am better than you.”
She scoffed. “Why’s that?”
“Contrary to you, I didn’t kill my own brother.”
She punched him as hard as she could in the face. “I did NOT do that.” she said calmly, while the bigger man recovered. Guards rushed towards them, seizing her by the arms and shoving her to the ground.
Vanam rubbed his chin. It looked like it had hurt. Good.
“Should I constrict her, Lieutenant?” a masked guard asked.
“No. Line her up against the wall there.”
The guards yanked her to her feet, and shoved her towards the wall.
Vanam began walking towards her. “Very rarely am I punched. Usually, I’d return the favour, but the Corps needs you in good shape.” He walked even closer. “But you look like you can take it.”
She glared back. He hit her in the stomach first, knocking the wind from her lungs. Seeing her winded, he grabbed her throat with one hand and squeezed. She was already struggling for breath, and felt panic creeping in. She held herself together as best she could, staring resolutely into his eyes, acting like she didn’t feel it. She felt her head flush with blood, and her vision slowly darken at the edges.
After what seemed like a lifetime, he let her go. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath, but no air came. After more heaving and panicking, it slowly returned.
The Lieutenant straightened the lapels of his suit. “I hope you remember that, you snivelling muppet.” He seated himself and took a drink of water.
Will and Deanna lifted her up by the arms, and hauled her to a bench.
“Are you alright?” Will asked.
She nodded. “Just a bit of fun.” Wow, I’m hoarse.
“Didn’t look like it.” Deanna said, worried.
“I’ll be fine. His grip was weak anyway.”
Will shook his head. “What did you do?”
“Called him ‘mate’, I guess. Proud bastard.”
“He said something else, though.” Magnus said meekly.
Deanna leaned forward. “Yeah, didn’t he mention a brother?”
Evelyn glared at her, and she backed off.
“I’ll get you some water.” Will said as he hurried towards the cooks.
He returned with a pitcher, and stacks of bread and bacon. She wolfed it all down gladly. Always good to eat after a punch-up.
They ate in silence until Deanna looked around. “Where is everyone? Did we miss something?”
“No.” Will said quietly.
“Oh.”
Only half of them had made it back, it turned out. On the first mission. A faint sense of dread crept into Evelyn’s mind.
They continued their breakfast in reverent silence. As they were nearly done, Magnus began quietly crying. Will put an arm over him, and let him sob into his shoulder.
Deanna looked somewhat ashamed, but didn’t say anything.
“It is alright, Magnus. Let it all out. We usually get a day off between missions. So we will most likely be operating the refinery, cleaning equipment or washing up today.” Will said in a soothing voice.
“11 more days, Magnus.” Deanna said. “Five more missions. We can do it.”
He sniffled and nodded, wiping his tears on a pink sleeve.
“Thank you.” He said, meekly.
Vanham rose from his seat. “Alright, you lot, listen up. First, congratulations on a successful first mission. Usually, missions are conducted every other day. But usually, we don’t lose half a brigade on their first mission, and no one usually punches an officer. Still, Second Brigade is below quota. Normally we would raise the quota for First Brigade in a situation like this. But it seems someone, “ he peered at Evelyn, "has not yet gained respect for authority. You will therefore be sent out again today while we wait for new inmates. Three groups of two pairs will be sent out together, with one pair being alone. Expected amount is 30%. Muster on the elevator in one hour.”
Something, be it bacon or dread, sunk deep in her stomach. Deanna looked contemptuously at her. You damn fool, Evi. she thought.
Vanham then walked out of the room, and left them to stew in dread.
…
“Now, between the two of us, and you won’t tell on me here, alright, Hanson, but I find it a travesty what this Corps does to you guys, right? I mean, it’s barbaric! I get that someone’s gotta get the serum, but for Ithunn’s sake, can’t they just have gotten some robots to do it or something?” The copilot said over the intercom.
“You shouldn’t say stuff like that, Avidan. I won’t tell on you, but watch your tongue.” The pilot responded.
“Come on, you agree, right? Look at Will here, Hanson, perfectly nice man. All big and muscular, but he doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly!”
“He’s probably here for a good reason, Avidan. And I’m telling you, it’s always the nicest ones. If they look nice, or make you laugh, it’s just so they can stab you right in your back.”
“You wouldn’t stab me, right, Will?”
“Of course not.” He replied, then laughed. “All the knives here are plastic!”
Avidan, the copilot, laughed as well. Hanson didn’t respond.
The helicopter hit a bout of turbulence, rattling the four of them. Will was next to Evelyn, and the pair they were assigned to sat in front. Only one had bothered to tell them his name. Kitsch was a tall, weasly man with a sharp widow’s peak and restless hands. His partner was equally tall, but with a curly tangle of dishevelled brown hair. He hadn’t said a word since they met. He had stared, however. She didn’t like the way he looked at her.
Will turned to the pair. “So, Kitsch, where are you from?”
“Vercingetorix.”
“Oh, just like Evelyn here!” He nudged her with his elbow.
She gave him some side-eye, then tried to seem interested. Anything to ward off the boredom. “Which level?” She asked the man.
“Third. You?”
“A bit up and down.”
He simply nodded.
“And you, where are you from?” Will asked the other man, to no reply.
“Hey, Curly, he asked you something.” Evelyn pressed.
He sneered at them. “Not tellin’ you.”
“Don’t be shy, there is nothing to be gained from silence.”
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
He glared. “I’m not shy. Just shut up and do your part of the work.”
Will either didn’t hear, or didn’t care. “Alright then. What is your name?”
“I told you to shut up, rich kid. Annoy someone else.”
“You told me to be silent so I could do my work, but how can I call out to you in an emergency if I don’t know what to call you?”
The curly haired man looked up. He had a plump, furrowed face. His hair was thinning a bit at the sides, and he had a scar above his eye.
“Brannaghan. Now leave me alone.”
Will looked pleased. “Thank you, Brannaghan, I will.”
How does he do that?
“See what I mean, Hanson?” The copilot said. “Nice as a lamb, that one. That’s the mark of a good man, you know, Hanson? Polite and understanding, but he knows when to pull back when someone’s getting a bit mean. With more people like him, I bet that boat would be a much happier place! They all seem so somber, you know, getting back into the craft, all pink and gloomy. It ain’t right to put people like him in places like this, I tell you. Especially with folks like that upstanding army guy we flew in yesterday, right? The immortal fella?”
Immortal? Wonder what he did.
Will was curious too. “Friend, did you say immortal? And a soldier? Did you fly in an Elysian?”
“Maybe, though he seemed mighty pissed off, that one, raving on about a cure and a brick who became mortal and how he hated Ithunn and all that.” The copilot shook his head. “Dangerous talk, that. Though I suppose that’s one way to end up here, eh, Will?”
He thought for a moment. “A cure, you say?”
“Yeah, nothing unusual for some of the nutcases we fly sometimes. You know, and pardon me here, this isn’t about you guys, but some of the people we get here aren’t the spikiest forks in the drawer, you know? So I wouldn’t take it too seriously.”
The pilot buzzed in. “You’re clogging the comms again, Avidan. Anyway, approaching LZ in one minute. Ready up.”
Evelyn shouldered her tank.
“Thank you for the warning, Avidan!” Will replied while fiddling with his straps. “With you around, I feel better already.”
“See what I mean, Hanson? Wonderful bloke.”
“Yeah, yeah. Opening bay soon. Make ready.”
Evelyn scratched at her scab. A cure, was it? Did she dare hope? Crazy or not, she needed to find that person.
Will leaned over. “Do not forget your hook, alright? I do not want you nearly breaking your legs like last time.”
“Alright mum, calm down, I’m not stupid. Besides, I had it all under control.”
He seemed unconvinced, but what did he know?.
The drop door opened, and wind and rain rushed in to greet them. Kitsch, who sat closest to the door, received the brunt of it.
“Just like home, right Kitsch?” Will shouted above the wind.
“Piss off!”
Will laughed. “We will go down first, if it is alright with you.”
“Be my guest.” Brannaghan shouted back.
Evelyn readied her hook and got up. It really would be more fun not to use it…
When she peered out of the craft and down at the wildly swinging ladders, she thought the better of it. That looked entertaining enough on its own.
She hurried down the unstable ladder, swinging like a pendulum, and landed on a wet patch of grass surrounded by trees. The tall grass was mercilessly thrown around by both air and aircraft.
“As soon as everyone was on the ground, the helicopter pulled away, leaving them in relative silence.
Rain drizzled lazily down at them, but strong gusts of wind blew her hair every which way.
“Kitsch, you got a hair tie?”
He ran a hand through the glorified stubble on his scalp. “Funny.”
She thought it was. In the end, she tucked her hair into the neck of the suit.
Will recovered the wooden box and handed out the equipment.
“All ready?” Will asked when they’d geared up.
“Yeah.” They replied.
“Good. The town is a ways away.”
They trundled their way through the imposing forest. A few cowardly leaves fell around them, but the tall trees still brimmed with foliage. Will found an overgrown path, which winded through the forest. The more they walked, the louder the sounds of pain became - Evelyn suspected Will led them more by ear than map until they eventually reached a clearing and a quaint village appeared to them. Even on the outskirts of town, it was as if the stench of alcohol and rotting leaves was fighting the sounds of torture. As always in war, it was the bystanders who felt the brunt of it.
Will stopped a few meters from a road. “Alright. I confess I have never been on a multi-pair mission before. But I suspect it will be the easiest if we split up. Are we all in agreement?”
“I guess.” Kitsch mumbled.
Brannaghan kept staring at her.
She nodded.
“Great. Remember, we only need 30% each. If we can each find two or three victims with open hearts, we could be done within the hour. And do not take unnecessary risks, alright?”
Kitsch waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah yeah, we know how this is done.”
“Good. We will meet up here when we are ready. If you need help, shout.”
Kitsch nodded, and they walked to the closest road on their right.
Will surveyed the town. “Where do you want to go, Evelyn?”
“Left, I suppose.”
“Sounds good.”
They trudged through the wet grass, heading for an open street. The rain had become worse, now falling in small, aggressive droplets and she found herself wishing for a hood.
Scant few bodies lay on the main street. One hung out of a bakery window, still wearing an apron. They crossed almost half the town before they found their first grounded victim. It was a large man in a green suit. He lay on his stomach, and was covered from ankle to navel by the gargoyle.
Will slowly inched closer and looked at the man’s left shoulder. “Frog division.”.
“That tracks.” Evelyn snickered.
“What?”
“We’re still in France, right? Looks like the gargoyle here sampled the local delicacy. Though I never personally liked frog legs.”
Will did not look pleased. “This man is in immense pain, Evelyn. Show some respect.”
“Yeah I will. Should I do that while I shove a comedically ornamented stick into his freshest open wound and suck out his blood?”
“Enough. Just lift it off.”
She did as she was told, somewhat clumsily removing the gargoyle. His left leg was removed, so she stuck the syphon in his femoral artery.
When they were done, her wrist read “7%”.
They continued walking, eventually coming upon a large post with many different signs pointing in different directions.
“Lyon - 36km.” Will read from the bottom sign.
“Brussels - 550km” she read from another. The sign gave her a strange feeling of nostalgia.
“Os…” Will cut off suddenly.
She found the sign. “Oslo - 1 600km.” she read. Will acted weird. “What’s up?”
“That’s where my grandparents are.” he said thoughtfully.
“Oh.” She felt a pinprick of sympathy. “I’m sorry.” she said.
“It is quite alright. I never met them, but father talked about them a lot.”
Wait. Grandparents, 200 years ago? Odd. Are you really one to talk when it comes to this? She supposed she wasn’t.
Silence ensued, and Evelyn took to looking around them again. This town looked much like the other one they had been in. Quaint, overgrown, old. The impenetrable sheet of grey cloud and incessant rain didn’t help its gloomy feeling. Neither did the screams of pain.
“Look, if you wanna-”
“We will go for that one.” he said, pointing at another victim.
After they were done with it, the gauge read 20. The victim had had an opened jugular, leading to more than enough fluid. Evelyn looked around for more.
“Is it normal for there to be so few people lying around?” she asked.
“It differs from area to area. Some have a lot, some have many. I still have not figured out why.”
Evelyn stopped in the middle of the street. Just beyond, she could see the opening to a huge valley. She briskly walked towards it, liquid sloshing on her back.
Eventually, she came upon the edge of a cliff. The wind was very strong here, almost threatening to blow her over the edge. It was a sheer drop down to a wide expanse of grassy plains in a shallow mountain valley. The overcast sky somehow made the grand vista claustrophobic.
She stepped to the edge and looked down. “I think I know where everyone went.” she said.
A tangle of mangled bodies lay broken on a jut of rock below. There must’ve been over a hundred lying there. Some were scattered skeletons, but other, less fortunate ones were covered with gargoyles.
“That would explain it, yes.”
“I’d do the same.” She whispered.
Will looked judgingly at her.
“What, you’re telling me you wouldn’t?”
“Yes. I would not.”
She shook her head in confusion. “Why? You want to be tortured for eternity?”
“No. No one in their right mind would want that. I was of the same opinion as you until a few days ago.”
“Then what changed?”
“Not much, honestly. I simply wish to live.”
Evelyn pointed to the cliff. “You call that living?”
“I am no philosopher, Evelyn, but they are breathing, are they not? I would say they are living.”
The argument made her strangely angry. “Is it really living if you’re in constant, endless pain? With no hope, no end in sight, no possible way to get out of it?”
“How do you know it is endless? Can you see the future? Do not be so quick to give up, Evelyn.”
She scoffed. “I’m not giving up. Am I a coward for avoiding suffering? Anyway, there’s no way to break free from it.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I have more experience with this than you do, kid.”
Will got a suspicious look. “Really?”
“Yeah. Once you’re fully taken, there’s no getting out. Nothing you can do. No way to stop it.”
“What if there was a cure?”
Yes, what if. As if I haven’t wondered that every damn day. “It’s been 197 years, and no cure, Will. That shows a pretty strong tendency.”
“How long did it take before humanity discovered electricity?”
“What? That’s not comparable in any way. It’s not possible, Will.”
“So you have given up?”
She turned and walked towards the town. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Let’s just finish this.”
What did he know about suffering? He’s so damn sure, the bastard. “Don’t be so quick to give up”, my ass. Walk a mile in my mint green boots and you’ll see what that looks like.
She stewed on it in silence as they headed back into town. Kitsch and Brannaghan were working on a victim a few blocks away.
“How much do we have, Evelyn?” Will said softly.
“20%.”
“One more should do it, then. You can look for one while I talk to Kitsch.”
She looked around as Will sauntered over to the other inmates. Oddly, she found herself thinking about her brother. He’d been as confident as Will, for sure. As annoyingly idealistic, too. “I would not.” she whispered to herself, mockingly. Easy to say when you’ve only been alive for 20 years.
Right, should probably find a new guy to torture.
There weren’t many victims near her. Actually, the screaming seemed a lot quieter here than in the previous village. Now that she thought about it though, it felt even more grating. She had managed to shut it out for a time, but the sheer haunting noise of it slithered into the back of her mind like a parasite leeching at her psyche.
No wonder I hallucinated yesterday. It had to have been a hallucination, right? Will might know something about it, a part of her thought. She’d only known him for three and a half days, though. That seemed a little too early to come out as insane.
Was she insane though? She had touched a gargoyle, and seen… whatever that was. Could that happen again? Maybe there was a way to broach the subject to him.
When she had finally chosen one, she saw Will coming back, with Kitsch and Brannaghan in tow.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“They wished to see how we worked, so they could learn.”
“Right.” She said. “Didn’t pay enough attention in training?”
“Don’t mock me.” Brannaghan said, stewing.
Proud, are we? “Oh, so now you pay attention.”
“Evelyn.” Will said. “They asked us for help.”
“I know.” She folded her arms and nodded her chin at Brannaghan. “He’s been looking at me funny all day, though. He quits staring, I’ll help.”
Will turned to the man, looking suspicious. “Stop that, alright?”
“Why?” He kept looking at Evelyn. “We’re only here because of her. What’s she gonna do about it?”
“I dunno. I’ll ask you when you’re picking up your teeth with broken fingers.”
Brannaghan puffed up his chest and got closer. Kitsch just snickered.
“I’ll snap you like a twig, woman.”
She put her thumb on the syphon release.
Will got between them, and gently pushed Brannaghan away. “Please, there is no need for this now, alright? Evelyn, we will get our remaining 10% now, then we will help them with one or two victims, and we will go back, okay?”
She looked at him, confused. “Why you telling this to me? I’m all in, so long as the big lout learns to mind his eyes.”
Kitsch leaned in. “Just get on with it.”
“Alright. Step away.” She said, and led them over to the body.
It was a fat man on his back, dressed in overalls and covered from belly to bald spot. She heard the click of Will connecting to the tank, and got in position by the man’s left arm. “I think it’s over the heart.” She said, softly.
“Lift it up, I’m ready.” Will replied, equally soft.
She wedged the cane in and slowly lifted it up, feeling the open wound and broken ribs giving way in the man’s chest. He breathed out a thin cry of pain, sluggishly trying to move his head. Evelyn tried to avoid looking him in the eye.
She moved the squirming mass down to the man’s feet.
“His heart is covered.” she saw with a sigh.
Will leaned over her shoulder for a look. “It is alright, do you see that thick vein between the lungs?”
She looked, but it was all a red, bloody mess. The gargoyle was already starting to move, so she poked around in the chest cavity. “Found it.”.
She readied the syphon and plunged it in. The man lifted his head in a gasp. She could see the beat of his heart below the skin, thumping furiously. Blue-red blood rushed through the tube, and she felt the tank growing heavier on her back.
The man squirmed and sluggishly flailed his arms, and Evelyn had to step on his left to hold it down.
The gargoyle’s head was appearing, and with it came a brief flash of remembrance. A sterile white room, broken glass, rushing water. No sooner did the memory fade than her wrist beeped at her, inflaming the gargoyle even more.
“Disconnection on five.” She said.
She counted internally and pulled back her syphon, just in time. A small squirt of blood flew from the wound, and landed in the oily viscosity of the gargoyle one handspan away.
Evelyn took a few quick steps back, and watched the blue-red blood slowly sink straight through the strange creature.
Will had collected his pump, and looked quite satisfied. “That is one way to do it. Evelyn, how full are you?”
“Not very, could go for one of those chocolate bars about now.”
Will gave no reply.
She sighed. “32 percent.”
“How?” Asked Kitsch.
“You just stab ‘em good in the right place, really. Helps to have a big guy behind you as well.”
“Running the pump does get tiring.” Will admitted.
“Any other advice?” Brannaghan asked, arms folded.
“Keep your eyes on the gargoyle instead of my bum, and I think you’ll do fine, mate.”
“Evelyn…” Will said.
“What? Gonna blame and lecture me for that, too?”
“I am not. Teamwork is important, however.”
“Tell that to him.” She said, walking off towards an overgrown bench.
“Where are you going?” Brannaghan asked.
“The tank full of blood makes my back hurt. Not that you would know anything about that. Go on, fill yours up.”
And so they did, stabbing and torturing until the sun hung low in the sky. By then the weather had cleared up, and that familiar orange glow spread across the landscape. The windswept trees in the city were a mimicry of the setting sun, their branches anxiously holding on to the last, cascading bushels of yellow-orange leaves. Evelyn had a good view of the valley from here, and found herself missing home. She wondered how many had stayed behind there, how painful their every moment was. The thought brought her an empty feeling, and she wished the helicopter would arrive sooner.
Last night, they had needed to walk back into the fields for the helicopter to pick them up. Today, they just waited in the town. Thank you, I guess. She told the townsfolk by the cliff face. Better you stay down there than populate the city. There were a few irritated gargoyles out on the street, but they didn’t seem too agitated.
Will sauntered over after having called the helicopter. “It is strange, don’t you think?”.
“What is?” She stirred the tank to keep it from solidifying.
“The gargoyles here, they seem much more peaceful.” He fiddled nervously with his bottle.
“I guess.”
“You do not find it odd?”
“Everything about them is odd.” She thought for a moment. “By the way, have you heard anything about what happens when a gargoyle touches someone?”
Will got a haunted look. “I-what do you mean? As in, how do they take someone?”
“No, I know that already. Y’know, they say that when you die, your brain releases a bunch of chemicals, and you see bursts of all your favourite colours, or your life flashing before your eyes. You heard of anything like that happening to the victims?” She bumped the scab on the top of the staff.
“No. I think…” He sniffled and rubbed an eye. “I’ve seen that they just go limp.”
“Right.” Guess I really am a nutter, then.
“Why do you ask?”
She looked up at the sky. In the mellow twilight, she saw a beautifully pearlescent swirl of clouds. They seemed to glow with an iridescent light, like oil on water in the harsh sun. Each wisp of vapour was ringed like an old tree in hues of pink, yellow, green, violet and blue, bleeding together at the seams. Only one set of clouds in the sparse sky had the look. The winds were dragging it apart, stretching it like cotton candy, unmaking its own beauty as though it was a fluke.
She got then a profound feeling of space, stretching her attention beyond the sky.
Alone.
The word echoed in her head. What had she seen?
“Oh, nothing.” she smiled.