The Will of Night and Day

by Mr E

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure
Length: 6155

Madness seems to be the route of all my problems, and a certain insufferable mare that I seem to be saddled with. All I can do is rely on her, and deal with it one dilemma at a time.

Life changes, that's all I'll say, you adapt and move on, carry on even if it is in a new apocalyptic setting. You don't expect the life you made to fall apart around you in the blink on an eye and REALLY change before your very eyes. So what can you do?
Freak out most likely, then adapt and deal with it. But how do you deal with unpredictable Madness and dodgy destinies when the odds hardly ever look in your favor? One hurdle at time, that's how. With a little help of course…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-09 16:05:48 UTC

The Start of Voices in my Head

Run.

Just run.

Run and maybe they won’t see me, I hope. Not that hope’s gotten me anywhere in the last few years, what with the whole world changed and fucked up. Right, not important at the moment, but do you know what is important? Running, and subsequently survival, well that’s my plan at the moment.

So on with the plan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I mutter to myself, scanning the street for somewhere to hide. Option one; fuck all, and option two; more fuck all. And yes I tend swear a lot under pressure, I have a foul mouth, sue me. Seeing the lack of options, I keep going down the street weaving between the deteriorating debris left on the road.

“Keep looking, there has to be something to use, just keep an eye out and pay attention. There, no too exposed, maybe the tree, nope no way to escape. Shit there has to be something.” I can still hear the pursuit behind me; I need to find something quickly. There’s an old truck on the road I notice, rusted, faded, but importantly still mostly intact.

“Ah this is so stupid…this better work,” I angle myself to the truck and run and jump on to the bonnet of the car in front, leap onto the cab of the truck, catching my foot on it in the process. And immediately face plant into the roof as a result.

“Meant to do that…oww,” now believe it or not that was sort of plan, the lying face down spread eagle on top of the truck bit, not the pain inducing/embarrassing face plant, (hey, at least no one saw it happen, hopefully). Waiting, I hate it, but that is part of my brilliant plan you see…fine it’s a crap plan! There I said it, happy? Not like I can do anything else at the moment (aside from enjoying the unique feeling of landing on one’s nose, you know the feeling I’m talking thinking about), while waiting for the Shadows to pass by.

Well I call them Shadows, but most people have their own names for whatever they are; Shades, Echoes, Ghosts, (met one guy who calls them Hollow’s, don’t know why though), Spectres, Flickers, Remnants, you get the idea. I call them Shadows because that’s what they look like; shadows (I know, mind blowing concept!), moving shadows; most have a rough human shape to them, they have other shapes as well, some type of animal I guess. Aside from being a moving inky mass, they all look off if you know what I mean, like the proportions are wrong or stretched, sometimes even mismatched sizes like short legs and massive chests, or horns, or tails stuff like that.

All I know is that they appeared a few years ago when it all changed, when we all changed that is. Well I also know that the Shadows are semi-hostile or aggressive. You see they don’t like people. It goes like this; Shadow(s) see people, chase people and either catch them or lose them. The confusing thing is trying to figure out what happens to the unfortunate buggers who don’t get away, when the Shadows (there are usually more than one), get to their victim, well in all honestly it looks like a giant weird shadowy group hug. Yeah a group hug, but not the good kind. Then the unlucky soul being glomped (though it looks distraught, like watching your pet die in your arms distraught), then it simply fades away. It’s hard to describe, let alone watch.

Now you may be wandering why I’m out here in the first place if these ‘things’ are out there, capable of removing me from existence, fair enough question. Simple; survival at its essential level, others call it scavenging. My little group needs supplies to get us through; usually just food, sometimes stuff from chemists though. Speaking of which, I need to get some painkillers for my now throbbing nose, great, just great.

Holding my breath I strain my ears to listen for Shadows. How do you hear a Shadow you ask? Well it’s simple, you just…ah…well personally I feel it more than actually hear them. The marks on my arm tingle when they’re in very close proximity, and guess what; it’s so tingly its starting itch like a bitch!

Focus on breathing, don’t move, don’t make a sound, be quiet and pray you don’t need to sneeze, it’s all I can do right now really. After a while the itchy tingly feeling starts receding. I stay up on the truck for another five minutes or so, just to be safe. Rolling on to my back I pull myself up and get down of the roof getting out of plain side. First thing I notice is the nice lovely dried blood around my nose and mouth, courteous of myself, face planting into the roof of the truck. Which I completely meant to do of course. Blood stains aside, plan worked perfectly! Now to loot the chemist for painkillers.

I start to walk back the way I came, hopefully I’ll avoid any other groups of Shadows, or people for that matter, hard to trust people these days you know? But that’s what this apocalypse has done to humanity, if we’re still human any more that is. Not to sound like a bad cliché opening to shitty midday movie (I almost miss those…almost), but it all started about three years ago (dramatic music goes here). Well I think it’s been three or so years anyway, and to be perfectly honest I still have no idea what actually happened, only what little I’ve pieced together over the years.

The scariest bit about it was actually the very beginning (big surprise right), but it was also the most traumatising thing any of us that survived have lived through yet. There’s no other way to say this than to put it plain and simple; people disappeared. And I don’t mean they suddenly decided to move or the government killed them, or they were targeted by gangs or mobs, they simply fucking disappeared, right into thin air in front of us! They literally faded from their feet first, all the way to the top. Just try to imagine what it was like for us. I remember it still; I was at a get together with friends, my girlfriend was sitting on my lap, we were laughing, eating pizza and watching The Big Bang Theory of all things. One moment, everyone is just relaxing, enjoying food and each other’s company. And then silence, I looked at them, looking at each other, shock evident on all of their faces as they looked at each other, pointing at each other, silently screaming to each other, unable to comfort one other as they began to fade. I wish they could have said something or anything to me before they left.

She was the last to go. And I couldn’t do anything but watch. Watch her face as it contorted with despair and fright. Watch as she turned to me. Watch as she raised her arms to try and give me one final embrace. Watch as she passed through me. And turn around as she went through me… watching her vanish from my sight.

I miss all of them.

So much.

After that, all the power started to flux in intensity, and I felt a burning in my body. The pain was, as though my physical body was being pulled apart or re-arranged. I don’t know how long I was writhing on the floor for, but when I woke up, well I didn’t notice anything different instantly if that’s what you’re wandering. What I did notice first were the marks on the inside of each of my forearms, they were identical on each arm. They looked like tattoos as they weren’t burned into my skin like a brand, but it sure as hell felt like it. There were three symbols on each arm. The first, below my wrists looks like three curved lines forming a rough triangle shape, each of the three lines are identical; sharp and thin at one end until it became round and thick at the other. The next symbol is in the middle of my forearms and is pretty easy to describe; a crescent, you know like the Moon, or a croissant. The third by the base of the forearms near the crook of the elbow is hard to describe. Imagine a cross, the crucifix type, as the centre, at the end of each arm is line that points down to the base and hooks back to the middle but doesn’t meet. Hanging down from the horizontal cross piece is another four lines; again they do not meet any others. And at the tip of the middle vertical shaft is a short line that extends both left and right.

Why am I explaining this?

Simple.

Because for the next several hours I simply sat there, staring at these things on my arms, and all I could say was “What the hell? How the fuck? Give them back! I need them, I need her! Please come back, please, please, PLEASE! Help…anybody…somebody…help…” I stayed there until I passed out from shock and exhaustion. The radio and television managed to fill in a few of the questions I had, the ones that were still working anyway. The few that were still operating only confirmed what I’d seen happen in front of me; people disappeared into thin air, and a lot of people at that. It wasn’t confirmed, but was speculated that our government (and most likely the rest of the other countries as well) had been decimated through these disappearances (not like I liked Liberal or Labour anyway).  And as if the annihilation of our governments wasn’t enough, the weather apparently had decided to get in on the action as well. Sky changing tones, first dark then light back to dark then mid tone, so many damn blues. Clouds literally going round in circles, and flicking between white and pink. Roaring winds that would go past howling and yet only a light breeze could actually be felt. And shadows, everywhere darting around, yet all heading in what I assumed was northeast direction, (I suspect that I was watching the birth of what I know as the Shadows). The remaining television and radio stations all agreed on one thing though before they all went off air; it was bad, like apocalypse bad.

I eventually left the house after two days, there was no food left and I was still freaking out at being so close to where they all vanished. At least the cars still worked, but it was when I got into my car that I noticed that more had changed about me than the symmetrical tattoos on my forearms. My eyes were yellow, bright yellow irises; no more green rimmed brown eyes for me. And to top it off was my hair, no more mousy brown hair, but instead a dark charcoal grey with deep red streaks. In short I looked stupid. At the time I didn’t have the opportunity to dwell on these changes as my phone started ringing. The caller I.D; ‘Mum’. Not going to lie, I was emotionally wrecked by this. On the one hand, I’d just lost most of my closest friends as well as girlfriend, found out that the majority of the population was lost along with them, and then I receive a call from my mum, informing me that I wasn’t alone as I had thought I was for the past few days. I won’t describe the conversation we had as it was very personal and you don’t need to know that I broke down in to manly tears. In short we basically decided that I would meet her at her house and we would go from there.

And when I got there guess what; she’d changed as well. The freaky thing was that we had the same coloured hair now, although her eyes were now a deep dark blue. She also had symmetrical marks on her arms, although hers were different to mine, they were a set of connected cogs and gears. Apparently when the marks appeared, she also experienced an intense burning pain in her body, but minus the feeling of being pulled apart and re-arranged, (lucky her I guess, me not so much).

We spent several months roaming around and scavenging for food, most buildings were pretty easy to get into, as most of them were still open. Occasionally we ran into other people that had been lucky enough to fade away, nothing really came of it when it happened other than exchanging what they new about what happened. One thing that was always confirmed was the symmetrical marks appearing on the inside of forearms. Most people also said they experienced a few changes about their bodies, usually in their hair and/or eye colour, most people only had one of these change but it wasn’t uncommon for both to shift. Eventually I began to question people a bit more about what happened to them specifically. The ones that agreed to answer my questions usually described the same sensation of burning pain when the marks and colour changes occurred. However, only one person (a young girl) actually described having a similar experience to me with the feeling of having their body pulled apart and re-arranged. I initially feared about the possibility of running into groups of armed survivors (also know as bandits, raiders, etc.), but we never ran into any, saw potential bands, but usually hid just in case. Don’t get me wrong, everyone was armed (I myself had several knives strapped to my body and a hand axe, I used to have a small collection you see), but it was more a sense of practicality, many axes, machetes, hammers/mallets, not many guns or other projectile weapons though (this isn’t America after all, we don’t get as many fun things here to play with).

About eight months since this shitty apocalypse began Mum and I joined a small group of other survivors, more out of mutual benefit than actual necessity. With us it took the total group number up to five people. Odd thing about our little group; we didn’t go by our birth names. They just didn’t feel like our names any more, none of us really felt like we were the same people any more. There was a young guy who actually carried a modern recurve bow, whom I instantly started calling ‘Huntsman’, which funnily enough was close to his original name, Hunter. Then there a middle aged fellow know simply as ‘Greybeard’, I swear he new the answer to every question, and no I’m kidding, he literally new the answer to EVERYTHING! Then there was this teenage kid, went by ‘Apprentice’ simply because that what he used to be, an apprentice chef. They called Mum ‘Boss’ (which I will always find fucking hilarious, she’s a bit short compared to me).

Now the funny thing is most of the names we started going by, actually reflected what we contributed to the group as well as the new marks on our arms. Huntsman like I said hunted, and had drawn bows for his marks. Greybeard was special in the fact that he actually had a grey beard, but he also helped us plan our scavenging trips, like where was a good place or general area to look for this, how long we should spent looking for it, where to meet up, that sort of stuff, and get this, he had the same symbol that Gandalf used! And if you don’t know what that looks like, well I can’t say, “Go Google it” as the Internet no longer works properly, if at all. Apprentice is, well, self-explanatory; cooks and prepares food. He also focuses on growing it and foraging for it and supplies when we go out scavenging, he has a crossed chef knife and spatula for his marks. They call Mum (and I do now as well most of the time) “Boss” because well, she knows how to get things done the RIGHT way (reference; Mother powers handbook) if you know what I mean. She co-ordinates with Greybeard on how to handle situations, keeps us in line, breaks up fights and what not, all that fun stuff.

Now me, not to be all ‘I’m special fucking give me attention’, but I’m a little different, some of us came to the same conclusion that these marks on our arms are some sort of reflection of what we are meant to be good at, and mine are a weird circle, the moon, and a bunch of lines, which means I’m good at calculating the rotation of the fucking moon in relation to the fucking ocean! If you can’t tell; I’m lying. I don’t know what it could mean and neither do the others. However, as Greybeard pointed out, these resemble runes, and that’s where I got my new moniker; Rune. As to what I actually do for our group, general search and retrieval stuff. If Huntsman was looking for new areas to try and find game, I’d be on look out for any strong concentration of animals in the city (and yes there were actually quite a lot of them now that there were hardly any humans left to scare them away) you get the idea, the jobs/chores guy. Life sucks, then you die, supposedly.

And that brings me back to where I am right now walking along an abandoned street trying to brush the dried blood off the top of lips, fun times. Today I was simply on the lookout for any chemists that we hadn’t already looted, just general stuff really (always try to see if we can find any food – it’s a no brainer). I still have a couple of hours before I need to head back to our current home; a nice large house with enough room for the five of us. I’ve been around this area several times before, but there’s still plenty to go through, I know you might be thinking along the lines of ‘Hey wouldn’t other people have been here before and taken all this shit!’ et cetera, but the simple truth is this, there’s really not that many people left! Like I seriously estimate it to be like maybe ten percent of the entire human population, and that’s being very optimistic. Our little group is the second biggest I’ve seen, once I observed a group of I think nine people, didn’t approach them, I saw a rifle or two. I’m way too paranoid to approach a large group with firearms, shoot me (but please don’t).

I actually notice a chemist I haven’t been in before; I believe that qualifies as a jackpot! I take a moment to actually look at it. At the entrance to a large looking shopping centre, so possibly more stuff in further. Front windows are broken, but then again a lot of windows are these days. Straining my ears also gets me further info, no rummaging sounds to be heard, or animals calling out. It seems safe to head over there, so instead I wait for a couple of minutes to see if anything happens.

Le gasp(!), it doesn’t.

Yeah I know anti-climactic right, and with that in mind I head over the road and make my way through. I feel as well as hear the crunch of glass under my boots as I walk in; unsurprisingly this place has been looted before me, which means I’m headed to the back room. Haha, same state, fan-fucking-tastic. Ah well at least there’s still stuff back here. Huh, what do you know, painkillers and lots of them, I grab them all and chuck them in my bag as I grab my drink bottle. These had better make my nose stop hurting; I shudder as I swallow those damn pills. That done, I walk around the room sweeping all the left over stuff into the bag as well.

“Spread out, grab what ever you can find,” came a voice from the front part of the shop.

Oh crap. Crap. Crap. SHIT!

I hear them making noise as they sift through the left overs out the front. No easy exits back here, too noisy. Moving as quietly as I can, I stash my bag on top of an empty cupboard (people tend to not look up I’ve found!). They’re getting closer to the back room; I can hear the footsteps and rummaging getting louder. Ok just calm down, calm down and focus.

I jump a little as the door is flies open, and three men enter the room.

“Hello and welcome to Rune’s Discount Run-out Pharmacy goods sale!” I say with a sweep of my arms and a stupid grin on my face. All I get for my theatrics? Guns, pointed right at me. Don’t freak out, I tell myself as I try to stare down each barrel (not possible to do this with all three by the way).

“If you’re after pharmaceutical goods well you’ve come the right place!” I focus on the middle gun. “As you can see we had a wide selection of drugs and medicinal remedies, but that’s the thing with run-out sales, things just go straight out the door!” I’m beginning to go crossed eyed staring at the end of the pistol. “Now if you’re after commercial grade painkillers, direct your eyes over to yonder shelf and help yourself! Otherwise have a look around! You never know what you might find here, and if you have any questions whatsoever, then please, hesitate to ask, in fact don’t even ask, as I sure as hell won’t answer correctly or even truthfully.” Really crossed eyed now.

“…” The silence is deafening and I still have ballistic weapons pointing my way, I don’t think my little act helped after all. Beginning freak out sequence in three, two, one…

“The fuck was that?” The middle one asks raising the pistol to my forehead.

Oh God I’m going to die.

“Just kill him, get it over with!” another said, cocking the gun in his hands. “Hurry up; I wanna see what inside his head looks like! You hear that boy, it’s you’re lucky day, you get to see what your insides look like!”

“I’d rather they stay where they are right now, but hey thanks for the offer,” I laughed, it’s all I can do, just laugh it off! Nope not panicking, no panic here, panic free zone, I’m cool, calm and collected, cool as a cucumber, yep that’s me; Mr Cool! “I’m just going to go over there and away from you guys, minding myself, doing my thang, over there, by myself, no need to keep pointing those at me…please?” can’t believe I just said ‘thang’, I feel dirty.

“Stomach or liver?” the first guy asks me, lowering his gun.

“Huh? What do you…oh,” Oh shit, they’re serious, like actually serious, actual fucking psychopaths! I’m going to die, this isn’t fair!

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” the gun is now pointing at my chest area. “As in what fucking org-”

A box hit the ground in the front of the shop. When these three guys came in they left the door open, and I can see exactly what caused the sudden silence.

Shadows, a lot of them, like seven, no ten, damn it! They’re moving too quickly to count! All coming towards us. To kill us. Or maybe just me, just to fuck with me before these guys get a chance to…

“I’m screwed, fucked, boned,” I say, I barely notice my heartbeat speeding up, though if I did, I could have probably danced a merry jig to the beat it was making. “First Shadows, then these guys! And now both at once! It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair, IT’S NOT FUCKING FAIR!” I yell at all of them, gaining everyone’s attention. “What did I do to deserve this? Did I threaten you? NO! Did I attack you? NO! Maybe I took up too much of your air? BULLSHIT! Your time? Your space? Do I spit when I talk? Did I bang your girlfriend? Eat your FOOD? NO! I DIDN’T DO ANYHTING TO YOU, AT ALL!” Have you ever been so angry at a situation that you can actually feel yourself shuddering? Neither had I until now, I’ll put it down to the stress of the situation, but I’m pretty sure everything is looking darker now, and there’s a definite burning sensation within my chest, as if it’s fuelling my words and actions. “I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS! OF RUNNING FROM THESE FUCKING SHADOWS AND DEALING WITH SOCIOPATHS! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU THREATEN TO KILL ME, WHO GAVE YOU THE FUCKING NERVE, THE RIGHT TO DO AS YOU PLEASE?!” I don’t know if any of you are like this, but I tend to criticise myself as I speak, or maybe commentate is a better description, all I know is that; even though it felt good just to be yelling, I bet it sounded pretty damn stupid, as in block your ears stupid, hurting your ideas stupid, get the picture?

The group of Shadows leapt towards us, the group of violent assholes shot at me and the charging mass of murky beings, and I felt as if I had lost control of myself.

I was seeing two things at once, and let me tell you, it’s really disorientating! I was in the pharmacy, no… a desert at night? Is it hot and cramped or cold and open? I try focusing on the Shadows, but it’s like I’m looking through a screen, not ‘seeing’ it myself. There’s too much movement, jerky movement at that I can’t control; I literally can’t control myself, but I can feel what’s happening. Have you tried walking in water, or running perhaps, imagine that, but without the actual water. The drag on your limbs as you struggle and thrash your way through. That’s what this feels like and it’s frightening. I try to force feeling back into my body, but I’m losing what little I have. I surrender to simply watching events unfold. I see my hands around a Shadow, then diving to the side to no avail as one of the dickwads with a gun points it my way. There’s a slight flash then...

A desert.

At night, I think, it’s all really grey and dull, and very dry and cracked and rather a lot of fairly round ditches everywhere. And there’s no noise, or maybe it’s just very little noise? It’s a very desensitising feeling, like it’s all fuzzy or hazy and it’s making it hard for me to focus my eyes on anything. I notice the stars above me and try to look up, but unluckily for me, I’ve discovered yet another problem; I can’t fucking move! Like at all, I’m simply standing here (at least I think I’m standing, bit disorientated at the moment!) staring at one spot. Oh great, just great, alright calm, I’m calm just ignore the paralysis for now and focus!

Move toes; no response, next. Flex leg muscles; nothing, next. Check genitals; zilch, oh God! Ok, keep calm and carry on! Stomach; might be empty, situation getting worse here. Deep breath…calm…I am calm…breathe…everything is still fine…just…just breathe that’s still working at least!

My left arm suddenly moved! What the hell is going on! As in moved on it’s on, no electrical impulses from me giving it instructions! Now the other ones moving, and my legs too! Who is driving this thing! No, I must not panic, breathe, just breathe, and in…and…out…breathe, what is that blue shimmery thing? It looks like silk, with sparkly stuff in it, and it’s flowing just around my peripheral vision. Do you have any idea how hard it is to focus on something without actually focusing on it? Well it’s hard ok, it just kept moving, almost rippling.

I felt sensation returning to my limbs, or pins and needles, having trouble feeling stuff right now remember? But it all feels wrong, like I was all mixed up or something, feet where hands should be, bones on the outside of skin, that sort of mixed up; that may be the causing the desensitisation I’m feeling.

I would of have screamed if I could when I felt something on my back moving, a straining or maybe stretching feeling (like when you stretch fingers or toes to their limit), but an altogether foreign feeling, just below the shoulder blades.

What is happening to me? Normal day, go outside, scavenge for food and what not, explore post-apocalyptic world, get chased by Shadows, evade Shadows, loot shop, get held up at gun point, re-acquaint with Shadows, catch up with Shadows and have a BBQ, lame three way fight (I’m sure I did something!), end up paralysed!

No, wait, I've figured this shit out; I’m fucking dead! Gotta be, I must have died…well…fuck. And this has to be the shittiest after life ever! Seriously sucks, I mean I can’t even control my damn body! Wait! This can’t be right, I can’t be dead, and how did I die? I think I would remember dying, I imagine it would be rather traumatic, or dramatic, something heroic maybe…yeah, that sounds like me.

Not.

Where the fuck am I?

What the fuck is going on?

Why is this happening to me?

What did I do?

How is this happening?

Am I bat-shit crazy institutional-able insane?

Why is this happening to me?! Why me?! Why me, why me, why me, why me, why me, WHY ME, WHY ME, WHY ME!?

~”Calm thyself”

…

~”Yes like that, well done”

…Where did that come from?

~”Never mind that for now”

Well what do you know; I AM bat-shit crazy institutional-ably insane! Voices, in my head, fan-fucking-tastic, at least I have company.

~”Thou art not insane”

Aww, isn’t that nice, the voice is trying to tell me I’m not crazy, bit contradictory really, points for effort though!

~”We are NOT a voice in thou head!”

If that’s true, then where are you? Checkmate.

~”It is thou who ist the voice in OUR head! Now be calm and relax.”

Great, now the crazy is calling me the crazy!

~”We do NOT have time for this, thou must be calm and still before it comes back! Now be still…still as a stone…calm…calm as still water…relax…and let us quiet your fears and doubts…”

My eyes closed, and whatever was speaking to me (still not ruling out crazy yet) began to show me, images, of where I don’t know. Verdant green forests, babbling streams, quiet sleepy towns, majestic soaring cities, fields’ lit by moonlight and starlight, and faces so many faces, though they all looked very odd (definitely not human faces), and strangely coloured. I don’t think these are random thoughts generated from the mind, but rather this thing’s memories, I’m basing that off a feeling of longing that I’m getting every time it shows me something new. Either that or my brand of crazy is really detailed!

~”Sleep now and rest, relax and be at ease, soon thou shall be safe again, to continue and prepare for what is to follow, and for that, we art sorry.

Wait what…? Figure it out…when…I…wake…

***

Groggy, that’s what I feel like. You know when you’re eye lids feel like they’re sticky and if you open them they instantly tell your brain ‘nope, that’s a bad idea buddy, you  better close them peepers’ right now and catch some more zzz’s’, yeah that feeling, don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about! I roll over onto my side to try and jump-start my brain into action (physical movement often helps it to get going I find). Success! Start up runtimes activated.

“Argh” I yawned, never said I was a graceful riser. Ah, my chest feels so tense, sore and cramped.

“Most fucked up livid dream to date,” I mumble to myself as I rub my chest to try and alleviate the uncomfortable feeling. “What the…why is this sticky?” Looking down reveals why, there’s a rather large dark rusty coloured brown stain all over the front of my shirt. “What the actual fuck?” It’s sticky and starting to turn crusty, seriously what the hell is this? And why is there a small hole in my shirt?

“Holy shit that’s a lot of blood! Oh my God I’ve been shot,” I put my hand to my chest to try and find the damage, only to find absolutely nothing wrong, no gaping hole, no jiggered tear, not even a slight scratch. And yet my shirt is covered in blood and has a rather suspicious looking a hole, which upon further investigation is still actually damp and hasn’t started to dry and crust over yet.

I’m still in the back room of that pharmacy from before, only now with a single living occupant. The three guys from before were all spread out over the room, albeit rather dead. There were also multiple black marks over the floor as well. I started to get up and fell back down as my hands slipped on the floor. Bringing myself up, I looked at the dead bodies, trying to not lose the contents of my stomach. My axe was buried in one guys head, while two of my knifes were handle deep in another’s torso, the last guy simply had black marks over his exposed skin.

I ran.

I bolted thought the chemist, tripping on the way and scrambling to get back to my feet, to get away from that room. I made it outside and collapsed down against a car, breathing hard feeling the adrenaline shoot through my body.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! They’re fucking DEAD! D-E-A-D! And I think I…FUCK! My axe…his head…the knives…what the FUCK! Focus, breathe in, and out, in, out. Blood everywhere, all over everything...

“OH FUCK IT’S ON MY HANDS! It’s on my hands, fuck!” I must have killed them, I must have, the bloods on me, I’m guilty I must be, guilty as sin. I’m a monster, a murderer! “Oh fuck so much blood, shit, shit, shitty fucking shitty SHIT! What the fuck do I do? Oh fuck, there’s so much, it’s everywhere, oh fuck, get it off, just get off of me, get-it-off, get-it-off, get-it-off, get-it-off, GET IT OFF!” I fell onto my side and spewed on the ground, adding the stench of bile and half-digested food to the aroma of drying blood. I threw up again, and then again. I’m pretty sure I’ve emptied my guts up now.

This is so fucked, I must have killed them, but I don’t remember doing it! But I must have done it, my weapons were in their…in their…I’m gonna hurl again. I dry heaved instead, nothing left to bring up. I can’t believe I could do something like that. I curled into a ball and started shaking.

I mean, how could I kill people? I don’t have it in me to take a life.

Do I?

“’Yo Rune! Where you at man?!” Huntsman? That sounded like him. “You’re late! Like three hours late man. Seriously where the hell are you man?!” I could hear that he was getting closer to where I was lying. “RUNE! You here bud, RUNE!”

“Over here,” I mumbled, I know he couldn’t have heard that. “I’m over here, Huntsman over here!”

“Jeez man, what’s taken you so long man, you run into Shadows or so-what the fuck happened to you?” He started running over, skidding down next to me and grabbing my shoulders, sitting me up. “Dude, hang on I’ll get you home, just hang in there!”

“I’m not hurt, I just, I just…just,” I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t tell him…what I’d done.

“But where did all that blood come from then dude? And where’s your bag and your weapons…oh…oh shit.” I saw him lower his hands. “Look at me. Rune, look at me, Rune!” I couldn’t meet his gaze, how could I? After what I’d done. He grabbed my head and forced me to meet his eyes. “Oh fuck…dude, your eyes, have you seen your eyes? It happened again.” He pushed the cars side mirror down so I could I could confirm what he said.

One of my eyes was now completely teal, while the other was a half-half split of teal and my bright yellow and very dark circles under my eyes. As I looked I noticed that the yellow was slowly but surely pushing the teal back and returning to normal.

“Rune, what the hell happened to you?”

“I’m not sure anymore, I just don’t know.”

Why is this happening?