My eyes flicker. My hands tremble. My body is being crushed. No—it is being crushed. I try to glance left, then right, but my spine refuses to obey. My neck gives way, yet I remain rigid, as though four walls are closing in on me, pressing my form thinner than a sheet of paper. My breath catches. My pupils dilate as an ominous darkness seeps into my being. Everything around me flickers—like heat mirages on a blistering summer day, distorting reality into a wavering haze.
The darkness shifts. White particles rise, swirling, while a crimson glow pulses from my body, casting me as nothing more than the silhouette of a solar eclipse. The particles twist and coil, assembling like fragments of a puzzle, as my arms are forced inward, crushed against my torso. I want to cough. I know I will vomit blood. My veins protrude, stretching against my skin like overcooked noodles, and then—an eye stares at me.
No. Many eyes.
I feel like I will burst. Like my eyeballs will be forced from their sockets, my ribs will pierce through my lungs. But the eyes vanish. The unseen walls within the abyss fade, as if they had never existed. Instead, I am weightless. Suspended.
I reach for myself, running frantic hands over my body like a security guard at a checkpoint. No wounds? My brows furrow, my gaze darting left, right. My widened pupils find only the void, until above me, something takes form—a luminous substance, distant yet achingly familiar.
It feels forgotten.
As though I long for it, but can never reach it. Light.
I stretch my hand upward. It flows past my fingers, staining my pale skin red. My pupils contract. My lids squeeze shut.
A chill licks down my spine. A hissing sound curls into my ears.
Wind. My screams.
I am falling.
I reach for that beautiful light, but it slips away, further, further—
"Stay," I whisper, the words barely forming.
A tear escapes me. And then I collide.
Pain. I feel it. My joints twist unnaturally. My skull caves under the impact. My body crumples like discarded paper, like crushed meat. I try to gasp—at least, I think I do.
What is happening?
I reach upward, toward that distant, lonely light—a lone star against a blackened sky. But my body does not move. The light dims.
I stare into the emptiness, not knowing if something is coming for me—or if this is the end.
I don't know.
I am afraid.
If I could shiver, I would. But I am motionless.
Seconds stretch into minutes. Minutes into hours.
Ren... I'm sorry.
I know you are my brother. I hate myself for it. For leaving you. For never telling you the truth.
Are you suffering the same fate? Trapped in nothingness?
I want to sigh, to run a hand down my face, but I cannot.
Has the world already ended? I hope it was painless.
I want to cry.
Grief is something I despise. It feels so pointless. Why must we suffer it? Why can a human press salty water from their eyes?
And yet, without grief, we could never understand joy.
I hate it. I regret it.
If only I could do something...
My eyes flicker. My body is wrenched into the air, as though something unseen is dragging me with it. And suddenly—I am no longer in the abyss.
I see the world around me.
Images stretch and warp, as though I am moving at the speed of light. Streaks of color race past me—blurring, distorting. It is like I am soaring through the cosmos, a passenger on a ship bound for oblivion.
Time bends.
My eyes widen beyond what my skull should allow. I see blood.
Ten colors.
Red, blue, green, orange, yellow, violet, brown, black, white, gold.
It flows through veins, through people.
Thousands of images assault my mind.
A trembling blonde man looms over a dark-haired figure. Their voices are muffled, lost in the chaos. The blonde one is crying, a sword raised above the other. Blood—red blood—spurts forth. The blade falls.
I see churches ablaze. A gothic city beneath a blue sun.
I see angels. I see demons.
A black silhouette before a burning sun, the night sky stretching in crimson waves, suffocating the world beneath it. A moon, shifting colors in seconds, looming too large, too close. Tidal waves, kilometers high, swallowing cities whole.
Men, women, children.
Wars.
Bodies upon bodies, stacked like discarded dolls.
A grotesque grin on a face I cannot recognize. A storm raging, thunder illuminating their silhouette. The grinning one drives a blade into the whimpering figure below, savoring it.
And yet—I feel betrayed.
Rage coils in my stomach, twisting it inside out.
The visions continue their relentless assault on my weary mind.
I see landscapes. Jagged black mountains, forests of skeletal trees. And yet, beauty, too—violet deserts, cyan skies, cities built upon towering spires.
I see people. Laughing. Celebrating. Their drinks clinking together, their joy raw and unburdened.
My stomach settles. A fragile peace creeps into my chest, like a whisper of tranquility amid chaos.
My head turns on its own. My skull pounds, splitting under the weight of the visions. Tears sting my eyes.
Two figures.
A blond man, drenched in red and gold blood. A black-haired woman before him, her beauty like carved marble. Sharp jawlines. High noses. Their eyes, red and black, ignited with love.
"Damian, no!"
The woman cries out, her voice breaking. Her eclipse-like eyes brim with tears, streaking her sculpted cheeks.
The scene shifts. Hundreds, thousands of times. But for the first time—not just my body, but my very soul is silent.
Before me, a man walks.
Naked.
His hair is red. His eyes, too—like the crimson moon I had seen before.
Ash rises from the scorched earth, curling around his bare feet. He moves through the smoldering ruin without hesitation. The scent of burnt flesh clings to the air, mingling with the sizzling of embers.
"Elliot."
He says.
And again, as he takes the final steps toward me:
"Wake up."
…
My eyelids flicker, and I feel a warm touch on my arms. A single tear forms, slowly trailing down my cheek. I wet my dry lips, tasting the liquid salt. My pupils contract, and I see a pale blue light filtering through the bus. Rays of light I never thought I would see again.
My body jerks, my chest rising and falling. Oxygen floods my lungs, yet I am greedy, gasping deeper than I should.
"I am Elliot," I murmur to myself, pressing a trembling hand against my chest, over my heart. Sweat drips from my chin, sliding down my neck.
"Elliot…"
My mouth moves strangely, my cheeks feel fuller, my stomach twisting itself into knots.
"I am Elliot, and no one els—"
I choke on my own words as a wretched surge erupts from my throat, spewing out in a sickly brown-green arc.
The vomit splatters onto the floor, chunks resembling yesterday's noodles and the corn from the day before. Some of it splashes onto my shoes and pants, and I click my tongue in disgust. My brows knit together, my gut churns. I wipe my face with a shaking hand, cursing under my breath.
My entire body trembles, as if an unseen weight is pressing down on me, suffocating me. Everything feels heavier, like my limbs are made of lead. I glance around, a strange, questioning smile ghosting over my lips.
The bus is still. The sky is bright. I frown, forcing myself to look beyond the fog of nausea. As I take a step forward, my knees nearly buckle, but I manage to steady myself by grabbing onto a seat. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my legs weak, my grip unsteady. Another curse slips through my lips as I shift my gaze outside.
The once-dark city is now bathed in an eerie violet, tinged with pink. In the distance, a black silhouette looms. I narrow my eyes, but my vision remains unfocused. Only after ten deep breaths and a slight tilt of my head do I finally make out the shape—and my body freezes.
A grotesque blue figure stands there.
Its flesh is scarred, its body drenched in azure blue blood. Black stakes pierce through its joints, impaling it like some cruel effigy. Larvae and maggots writhe within its wounds, spilling from its gaping mouth. Bones jut out from its ruptured skin, intestines dangling like rotting vines.
My fingers turn rigid. I stand motionless inside the bus—the very place where I had resigned myself to my final breaths.
The creature's glowing blue eyes lock onto mine. Then it screams.
The sound rips through the air, shrill and inhuman, and it lunges.
Cold sweat trickles down my aching spine. My eyes widen, cracked lips trembling as they struggle to form words. "A—a zombie."
The words barely escape as I stumble backward, the monstrous figure charging closer. It is lean but tall, its grotesque frame moving with unnatural speed. And before I can process the horror of it, others appear.
More of them.
They emerge from the shadows, surrounding me, surrounding the bus.
The only thing standing between them and me is this thin layer of glass and metal.
And I know—
It won't hold for long.