Black Rain

Reader mode
[X] Use the pills and the snack you have for energy.

We might need to use the lantern to ward off whoever is near. The light should protect us or warn us of some zombies approaching.
 
Interlude 1
  • Threadmarks
    • Your body feels heavy by the time a faint light begins to glow through your closed eyelids. You can feel yourself get picked up off the ground by a single pair of arms. You thought you were supposed to be heavy? That, or the person carrying you is stronger than you expected.

    This could be the end, you think to yourself. Either you get taken to that tower or you get spit-roasted over a fire and served to the local townspeople. 50-50 chance.

    The lights are bright enough to resemble the sun.

    You remember something.

    During your first year of college, you were lonely.

    You assumed it happened to everyone.

    The loneliness built up inside you like bile. You started spending your afternoons after class lying on the grass next to your dorm building. Each day, you would close your eyes and let the sun bleed into your retinas. The warm grass and cool breeze helped you relax. And with your eyes closed, you felt a little bit less alone.

    When the rainy season hit, you still stayed outside on the grass in the afternoons. The sun didn't bleed as well through the clouds.

    You sprawled out and let the rain soak into your entire body.

    Sometimes it felt nice. You could almost convince yourself that you didn't have to shower if you stayed out in the rain for a while. Sometimes it felt awful, when the cold started to burn against your fingertips and gave you a cough that wouldn't seem to go away.

    Months later, just before the rainy season ended, somebody took your spot.

    She was two years older than you, and her hair was matted from the wind and rain.

    Things began to change after that.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Apologies for the ongoing lack of updates. Stay tuned for more later this week.
     
    Update 25
  • Threadmarks


    • You wake with a start, heart pounding. Head pounding. The blood in your body feels like it's moving at a breakneck pace.

    Where are you? What's happening? The room around you is clinical white. Are you dreaming? You're lying in a bed. There's an IV drip attached to your arm. Something hurts in your abdomen. When was the last time you ate something? Where are your clothes? Why is it so quiet?



    You will not die here.

    You can't die here.

    Minutes pass, eyes closed, heart rate slowly calming down.

    When the thick nausea slowly subsides, and the lights in the room feel slightly less sharp, you slowly open your eyes.



    Yes, that's what you should do. There's no point in panicking if you haven't already thought about your own situation.

    The room around you is painted white and brightly lit by two fluorescent bar lights embedded in the ceiling. The air carries the familiar acidic twinge of a hospital.

    For a moment, you feel as thought it can't be real.

    A doctor quietly opens the door across the room, holding a clipboard in her arms. Human. You nearly choke down a gasp.

    When she looks at you, her eyes are bright, but you can see the bags under her eyes. She's tired.

    You're tired.

    Another person.

    You want to reach out and touch her face.

    The remaining stump of your right arm weakly tugs against the IV line.

    "Now, now." The doctor rushes over and steadies your arm, settling it against the bed. "It's best you don't try to pull that out."

    When you speak, your throat is dry.

    "Who are you?"

    The woman tucks a blonde bang behind her ear. "I am Dr. Smith. If you're not feeling formal, you can call me Jericho."

    "Jericho?"

    "A nickname."

    "I see."

    She replaces the bag in the IV drip with silent precision before checking you over. She tilts your head to look at both sides. Checks your throat. Your ears. Your blood pressure. Then, a blood sample. She inspects the stump on your right arm, and the cavity that is your eye socket.

    Meticulous. Cold.

    She has done this many times, with many different patients.

    From the look in her eyes, patients in far worse condition than you are.

    Jericho folds her glasses and clips them neatly to a pocket on her coat. "May I have your name?"

    You hesitate.

    "For our records."

    "R-right. Sarah Winters. It's spelled normally."

    "Thank you."

    "No problem."

    The doctor returns to her clipboard.

    "May I ask something?"

    "Of course."

    "Am I... okay?"

    She looks at you with a bit of surprise. "Are you... okay?"

    "I'm not going to die, am I?"

    She chuckles. Her smile says "no," but her eyes say "you're closer than you think."

    "May I have a mirror?"

    She brings one to you, setting it at the foot of the bed.

    You get your first good look at yourself after waking up in the shack.

    You look... older. Older than you remember being. You could be mistaken for a woman in her mid-thirties. Most of all, you look exhausted and malnourished. The hospital gown slacks off of you whenever you shift your shoulders. Your hair is half-bleached, stringy, and longer than expected. It pools around your waist in meandering curls. The hair below your shoulders is nearly pure-white.

    Around the edges of your face and limbs, your skin is mottled. The rain? You have no idea.

    Looking at the socket of your eye makes you a little nauseous. You thought it would look worse; whoever removed it must have had surgical experience. You hope, for your own sake, that they knew what they were doing.

    You look up at Jericho.

    "I'm pretty fucked up, huh?"

    You can see the whisper of a smile on her lips. "We've helped worse."

    "I see."

    She tucks the mirror underneath the bed.

    In a moment of realization, you understand why it's so quiet.

    You can't hear the rain.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • [x] take a deep breath, be relieved, rest and recuperate.

    Whether or not we out of danger at least for the moment we are safe.
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Back
    Top