Cold.
Pronounced by a lack of the warmth of normal human emotion, friendliness, or compassion.
chk—! THUNK!
"Ah—! My back! Gentle, you damn morons!"
My head clipped the metal rail.
Sparks burst behind my eyes, sliding through the dark like headlights passing in the night.
"Help me—"
The words barely made it out.
Who said that—me?
My ears rang too loud to catch an answer as everything around me smeared into useless noise.
"Take off her..."
Something like that.
I wouldn't know.
My torso screamed. No, my whole body screamed.
Every shake drove hundreds of needles through my skin, stabbing from the inside out.
"Wake—hey..."
Stop.
Stop shaking me, you dumbass.
Please—just stop moving me.
Something swelled behind my eyes until it felt like something might split open. My teeth clenched on their own while my throat started to itch.
I forced myself to stay still, trying to glue myself to whatever the hell I was lying on.
And right when I breathed in—
"Hk—ngh! K—h!"
"Cough! Cough! Whatthe hell, man?!"
My voice came out stripped of whatever sweetness it might have once carried. Each swallow, like rubbing sandpaper against my throat.
Fuck—what even is that?
Chemical.
Sharp.
Something buried underneath it.
It clawed straight up my nose and shoved another scraping sensation against my throat. My hand flew toward my dirty face, rubbing at my eyes that had begun to water.
I forced them open and the burning became even worse.
Feels worse than getting pepper sprayed.
What the fuck did these people put in this shit?
A bright light slammed into my face before I could think any further.
"MY EYES! TURN IT OFF!"
I flailed without direction.
My hand caught someone's clothes and yanked them closer, desperate for anything that could block the light.
Another grip dug into my shoulder and shoved me against the gurney.
Hard.
Confusion flooded through me, thick and heavy like ink. My eyes spasmed, refusing to remain open or shut, leaving the figures around me buried beneath a blanket of black.
I couldn't see them.
That didn't stop me from fighting.
I shoved back, cursing at every hand I felt.
The thick acrylic covering their helmets came into focus in pieces—grime smeared across, scorch marks eating over the surface, some cracked and others nearly shattered.
A few of them had no helmets at all. Ears, horns and other features surfaced through the blur, each face carrying the same exhausted look.
I was sure I had seen these people somewhere. Maybe it was their clothing. Maybe it was the way they moved.
Whatever.
I tore an arm free and shoved the nearest person away with everything I had yet they barely moved.
Anger made up for what strength I lost.
My leg snapped out and caught someone between theirs.
My shaking hand opened toward the same figure.
I stared.
Willed it.
Blood rushed to my head, pounding behind my eyes.
I yanked my hand toward my chest like I was pulling a cord.
The figure jerked forward.
Their upper body pitched downwards with enough force to drive the helmet into the floor.
Heavy.
SNAP!
The acrylic visor fractured. Several pieces broke loose and scattered like leaves.
Hands seized me again. Too many to count, and much harsher than before.
I twisted between them, forcing myself upright even while they tried to hold me down.
The gurney rolled under the uneven weight, made worse by the bodies stacked around me.
The entire thing tipped with me still halfway off it.
I struck the floor on my side. Pain burst through my ribs and arm, punching the air from my lungs and freezing me midway through a scream.
My vision stuttered like grainy film.
Tears slipped down my cheek before I could stop them.
Something screamed.
A metallic buzz followed. Each pitch came through clearer than the one before it.
The hum crawled outward from somewhere near my belt, spreading into the space around me.
And then—
KR—RNNN—g…!
Every sound struck me at once.
The room slammed into my ears in one overwhelming surge, leaving my thoughts warped and my balance worse than before.
"hff—hff—HFF!"
Was I always breathing this hard?
"Ar...ood...see? Al...good?"
I lifted my head toward the voice inching closer. A blurry face peeled apart in uneven patches until it sharpened enough to make my eyes hurt.
Lucas.
Look at you. No stupid grin anymore, huh? Damn ghoul.
His blue-and-white hair clung to his head in wet clumps, jutting out like branches after a storm. Grime smeared his face, sweat cut pale lines through it and his eyes looked like he had not slept.
"Say something, you fool. And put your hand down."
His voice was low, almost lost beneath the chaos.
I'm not a fool, you dumbass. You are.
"Some...t-thing. Hehe—argh...fuu."
I tried to drag in a deeper breath, but white-hot pain lit through my chest halfway through my inhale.
I looked down.
Bandages covered the back of my hand, and my fingers were locked around my casting device. The small screen near its base flickered beneath the pressure of my grip.
Slowly, I released it.
My hand shook all the way to my belt. It took several clumsy tries before the device finally clipped back into place.
Lucas edged closer, careful this time, until he stood over me. Everyone else took the opportunity to back away.
"It reeks in here." I muttered. "Sulfur…smoke?"
The smell clawed into my lungs the moment I breathed again.
"Just stay still, will you?" Lucas said. "I can't mend your ribs if you keep movin' like that."
I ignored him and pushed myself upright, bracing against the overturned gurney.
Damn it. So much for a backrest.
Lucas clicked his tongue and gave me a glare sharp enough to cut nothing.
That's right. Stay mad.
He dropped his pack beside him and tore it open. After digging through the mess, he pulled out something shaped like a pen, mostly blue with a bright green cap.
"This will dull the pain." He said. "You might get dizzy, sick or both. So, for once in your life, don't jump up afterward."
Lucas popped the cap and drove the pen into my side.
A sound tore out of my throat—one I would rather forget for the sake of my reputation.
"H—hk—! F-fuck—Luc—!"
The pain lasted only a few seconds.
Long enough to make me want to dig a hole and disappear inside it.
Then numbness spread across my side, warm and almost pleasant.
"fffhhh…haa…"
And fuck me, that feels good.
No. I'm losing it.
Lucas went straight back to work. He unhooked a battered pouch from his pack, opened it and arranged his supplies over a rag that looked mostly clean.
I stopped watching halfway through. I tilted my head back and fixed my eyes on anything that wasn't his awful face.
Groans and curses drifted through the parking structure. Someone yelled. Someone else answered louder. Harsh but concerned words followed, most of them unknown jargon for me to bother untangling.
My head still hurt.
Whenever I reached through my memories, my mind came up with blanks.
And above everything else—why the hell was it raining again?
It had been clear only hours ago.
Nah. It's fine. I'm fine.
Not like it smells like dog and sulfur down here.
The air clung to my skin, thick and damp.
Nope.
Not doing this.
Absolutely not.
I hooked my fingers beneath the soaked outer layer and fought with the zipper.
Just...give me a second. Why is this so damn hard?
"Hold still." Lucas mutters.
"Go on somewhere. Oi! Stop staring! Shoo."
I finally freed one sleeve, then the other and dumped the damp garment beside my feet.
My bracelet glowed when I raised my wrist. The small screen showed the current time, though the numbers took a moment to register in me.
I twisted my wrist like I was turning the key to my house. An opaque display unfolded into view, softened around its edges, with my usual background faintly visible beneath it.
I flicked through the menus and dragged the map open.
Of course, it took forever.
The city rendered from the bottom up until my position snapped into the center. A park sat above us, its greenery in absurd detail.
I dragged one finger upward.
The ground peeled away, exposing the parking structure beneath it and three entrances leading toward the surrounding streets.
Off to one side, a plain white face with two dots for eyes sat beneath streaks of animated rain.
I flicked the display away.
A blink later, it filled my sight again, my finger resting over the same weather icon.
...did I bring this back up?
Why do I always fixate on the most useless shit?
"Done."
Lucas's voice cut through the surrounding noise. He packed his things on instinct before meeting my eyes.
"It wasn't that bad, was it?"
My mouth fell open.
"Not that bad? You stabbed me in the side! For a second, I thought you'd somehow gotten worse at this, which would've been impressive considering where you started. Do you practice on dead shit first, or do you wake up and decide I'm the best available target? And where is everyone else? He was right there, and what the hell happened to the—"
Tok.
rub rub rub.
Lucas looked down at me with the flattest, most exhausted expression I had seen on him in days.
"Stop acting like that."
I blink.
"Like what?"
"Every time shit hits the fan, you start acting cute like she used to." He shoved a hand through his ruined hair. "It feels disgusting. Sit down, shut up and eat something."
My mouth hung open for half a second.
Wow.
Okay.
"Way to make a girl feel confident. No wonder she left you."
Lucas grabbed the back of my shoulder and forced me onto the nearest crate. My ribs complained the entire way down.
"It's still warm," He mutters, shoving something wrapped into my hands. "So eat before I make that your next problem too."
"Wow. Look at you. You really know how to treat a lady."
"You're literally sitting in a parking lot under a park with blood on your face. Who the hell's gonna look at you and think, 'Now that's a proper lady. I'd love to know her better'? You act more like a man than I do."
Lucas stood and turned away before I could answer.
I peeled the wrapping apart and found a dense, greasy hamburger.
Probably microwaved.
The bun looked half-baked, one side darker than the other, with the cheese melted into the meat.
A moment ago, I had no appetite. Now my stomach twisted itself into a painful knot.
I tore off a piece and pushed it into my mouth.
My jaw protested. My throat was so dry that even the grease felt dusty going down.
Still, I took another bite.
Halfway through, I wiped my fingers against the wrapper, then my pants.
The trembling gradually left them. My breathing settled somewhere close to normal, and even the pounding behind my eyes began to quiet.
The chatter inside the parking softened into white noise as I ate.
Rainwater rushed through a ventilation block overhead, splashing into a puddle that grew larger by the second.
Something near it caught my attention.
A broken piece of mirror leaned against a crate.
Convenient.
I looked over and found myself staring back.
Dark lines rested beneath my eyes, heavier than usual. A cut crossed my cheek, with a faint copper smear trailing beneath it. My hair looked like something had tried to pull me through a drain and gotten bored halfway.
Lovely.
And then—
SHHHH—!
A sheet of water crashed over me from the ventilation block. It soaked through my clothes and ran down my face in cold streams.
When it passed, most of the blood was gone, leaving just faint grime behind.
I looked into the mirror again.
For a moment, my features looked normal.
That's...
No.
I raised my bracelet and reopened the map.
Nothing appeared.
No city. No park peeling open above me. Only a gray line twitching across the display.
Step.
By the time I noticed, I was already crossing the parking structure's exit.
I could not remember standing.
The ramp dragged upward ahead of me, slick with runoff and oil. Each step soaked farther through my shoes. Loose strands of hair clung to my cheek.
I kept walking.
One step after another.
The shelter overhead ended.
Rain greeted me at once, striking hard enough to sting.
Ah...
I'm really losing it, aren't I?
Figures loitered beneath whatever cover they could find. Their faces blurred in the downpour, sketched over in a hurry.
"Hey!"
My steps slowed on command.
"There you are, dear little Vaurie." The voice came again, closer now. "Don't turn around."
"Seriously. Don't. I'm working with a limited amount of dignity right now."
"What dignity?" I muttered. "I'm pretty sure you never had any."
"Huh. Why don't you look at yourself first?" The cheerful voice shot back. "You must be really pissed if you're standing in the rain like that."
"And you must've gotten bored if you're talking to me like we're all buddy-buddy."
"Ouch. Right in the feelings.~"
I finally glanced sideways.
A woman stood a short distance away, an oversized hood swallowing most of her face. Rain slid from its edge in uneven drops, breaking the shape of her mouth before falling to the ground.
She held something made of steel, encased and worn, with water running down its length in thin silver trails.
"You look like shit." I said.
The woman shifted her weight, her boots scraping against the concrete.
"Oya, it's not like you can see my face."
"Where is he?"
Even without seeing her face, I felt the smile forming beneath the hood.
"Straight to it, huh?"
"You know." She said lightly. "Most people start with hello."
"Where. Is. He."
.
Fracture.
.
.
My stomach twisted hard enough to fold in on itself.
I lurched forward and opened my eyes to find my reflection staring back from above the sink.
"Gh—hk—gh—!"
My chest heaved, every breath scraping on the way in and burning on the way out. Both hands locked around the counter, digging hard enough to hurt.
It was the only thing keeping me upright.
Cold sweat dampened my skin. My shirt clung to me in all the wrong places.
I shouldn't even have been wearing it.
For a while, I remained there with the person in the mirror.
Our breathing gradually slowed into one.
Hah...I need a shower.
I stripped and left the clothes in a careless pile before stepping beneath the shower. The water struck my face the moment I found the right temperature.
I closed my eyes and released a long breath.
My hands moved on their own, pressing at the tight knots beneath my skin. Steam worked into the soreness, loosening muscles that felt like they had been stiff for far too long.
I twisted my wrist and brought up a screen. A few swipes through the air opened my music, sending the playlist through the bathroom, one song at a time.
The sound gave me something else to hold on to.
I worked the grime from my hair, then carefully cleaned between my feathered tufts. The water darkened briefly around my feet before running clear.
I rinsed again.
And again.
Long after there was anything left to wash away.
Yeah...
I'm fine.
Swear.