“You go run ahead, simp. Have fun hanging those flyers. Sunny will come back in no time, with or without our help.”
I ignore him and continue up the stairs toward the next board.
We don’t know if Sunny will come back without our help, so I have to try. I have to dosomething.
I’ll hang these missing posters all over the fucking school if I must, until I run out of goddamn paper, and then I’ll print some more and paste them all over Crescent Vale City too.
Sunny has been gone too long. Something happened to her, and I won’t stop looking until I find her.
Atreus
I aimmy rifle at the bird sitting atop the tree branch far above me, resting my finger on the trigger while I wait until I get a clean shot.
Right when I press it down, a bone-chilling scream jolts me.
BANG!
I miss, and the bird flies off into the unknown.
I pull down my rifle and gaze around.
That was not my imagination. Someone screamed, but where?
I get up from the ground, brushing the leaves off my dirty pants as I make my way through the thick forest toward the area the sound came from, pushing aside some branches and bushes in my way.
The dense pine trees make it hard to look far ahead, but beneath my feet is a slippery trail of mud mixed with blood that looks like someone was dragged through it, so I follow it until I come across a body lying motionless on the ground.
A woman.
Time feels like it comes to a halt as I approach the body, wondering if she’s dead and I’ve just stumbled upon a crime scene. Her black-and-green hair stands out among the foliage as I close in on her, but the blood pooling beneath her thighs makes my heart throb in my throat.
I goddamn hope this isn’t what I think it is.
I push her shoulder to wake her, but when she doesn’t respond, I roll her over instead. Her face is covered in mud, eyes closed, lips parted, and I lean in to listen for the sound of life.
A soft, barely noticeable breath leaves her mouth, but it’s enough.
She’s alive.
I curl my hands underneath her back and legs and lift her from the ground, then carry her all the way back to my car as fast as I possibly can. I lay her down on the back seat and jump behind the wheel, kicking it into gear before I race off toward the nearest hospital.
Orion
I lamentover my latest poem, annoyed at myself that I just can’t seem to find the right words lately. Every time I write one sentence, I get the urge to scrap two more, and it’s just not fitting together correctly in a cohesive manner. But why?
It isn’t like I don’t have plenty of inspiration to go around, such as thoughts of sex and death, death and sex, or both at the same time, because why not?
I keep on clicking my pen while staring at the letters until they begin to float off the paper, then grumble and look away, throwing my blond locks over my shoulder.
Dammit, this writer’s block is killing me. Maybe I should let it. At least then I can finally rest these weary bones. But it would be such a shame to die now without having even produced my magnum opus, let alone a proper ending to this damn poem.
But the wine … oh, the wine, my dear muse, is calling my name.
I slide my chair back and gravitate toward my rack of bottles of carefully selected beauties that I’ve managed to find over the years and grab the one that’s been eyeing me from day one.
“You’re mine now,” I muse, tapping the bottle before I pop it open and pour myself a nice big glass. “Ahhh … perfect.” I swirl it around and take a sip. “Just a few more and maybe I’ll finally be able to think straight.” I chuckle at myself. “Good one, Orion.”
But as I put the glass to my lips, my phone buzzes, distracting me from my midday binge. I pick it up and nearly drop my glass when I read the text my mother sent to the family chat.
