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hyp-oh-critical · 3 years ago

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Light by Dabin & TRØVES (Acoustic)

A companion to the future of First Time.

Listen on Soundcloud / Spotify

I'm not sure why running away Running away now Feels right with you' Cause God knows, we tried Numbing the pain, hiding away now So I'll play pretend with you (with you)

There was a certain feeling of ease that came from sitting in the dark with someone familiar. The sky had long retired into its usual swirl of dark purple and royal blue hues, illuminated by the half-moon and litter of stars. From where she sat on the damp bench, the sky seemed lighter in the area above the city. The busy downtown core could still be heard from where they sat at the park. It should not have been later than six in the evening, but the winter season played its oldest trick in the book.

She exhaled, “Odd, to say the least, that we’re right back where we started.”

The trees danced behind them under the force of the wind. He blinked, taking in her words before making a point to face her.

“Agree to disagree,” he countered, to which she chuckled. “I would have thought it started a bit further back. The night of the event.”

Her head tilted to the side as if she was admiring the slow rocking boats ahead of them. The tide was low as it usually is at night, but there was still enough happening beyond the seawall. He watched her, pensive about her possible thoughts. She was always stuck in her own head over every little thing, some he grew to hear, others still remained a mystery to be surfaced.

“Sure, but had it not been for this very walk to this bench, we may have never gone further than either of us had intended,” she shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the second wave of cold air. He moved in closer to her on the bench, their knees gently knocking into one another. A simple gesture to show a sense of affection.

They both leaned back against the wooden planks, his hand reached for hers, “You okay?”

She nodded, eyes closing for a moment longer than usual, “Of course, I was the one who brought it up anyways.”

Their intertwined fingers were brought up to his lips for a chaste kiss upon her cold knuckles. The contrast between his lips and her skin sent a small shock, temporarily numbing him.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he smiled as their hands returned to their spot above his knee.

The wind whistled once more and he watched the glitter of city orbs waver amongst the tall buildings of the city’s skyline. The ambience was peaceful. Something that only one could wish for before a departure. A fleeting moment not worthy of unnecessary disturbances remaining in quiet memories with little retellings.

Streetlights, dim glow Keeping the time, keeping the time now And this feels like home 'Cause we're both tired of feeling nothing We're done wandering around with our feet on the ground, yeah If I just keep close to you

“I’ll drive,” she smiled, capturing his attention as he paused at the car. He fished out the keys and handed them over to her, watching her climb into the driver’s side. She didn’t often get behind the wheel unless the roads were clear enough.

He opened the passenger side, the warm heat of the interior finally welcoming him away from the cold. He got situated as she plugged in her phone, searching for the perfect playlist for the long drive ahead of them.

She paused her scrolling to wipe at her nose, “We feeling like jamming out hard or are we looking for the soft vibes?”

He thought about it for a second, “You mean, murder-y car meets or late night drives?”

She spared her boyfriend a knowing look before pressing shuffle on her playlist. The first song started to play, and a heavy beat with the suspected bass started to build. He nodded, laughing along as the two of them bopped their heads. The gears shifted and she pulled out of the unpaid parking spot, leaving behind the lot to the surrounding trees.

The car made a right and continued down the path. He expected her to take the longer route, the park being her favourite night drive spot she frequented on sleepless nights. He watched the docked boats pass by as they wind down the path along the seawall. The skyline waved, saying a short-lived goodbye when she drove along the bend.

The port passed from view and then slowly the mountains from the North did as well. Under the grand bridge, connecting the downtown core to the northern properties. They soon left the park, completing a whole drive along the inlet and finding themselves back in the city only to leave that behind as well.

Over several bridges and passing under countless street lights, the interior of the car frequently lit up briefly only to return to its comforting, inky ambience. The songs fluctuated enough to keep the background singer occupied as she weaved down the streets, mapless but guided fully by her own memory like she had designed these intersections herself.

They made it past the border, bidding an unspoken goodbye to their familiar home. Their luggage and other travel bags rattled quietly as the ground beneath them rippled. The estimated drive was supposed to be a little closer to three hours but to be completely honest, he had no idea where they were or where their destination would be. The only thought that occupied his mind was the girl in the driver seat humming off-key to some song they would otherwise serenade each other with.

She was distracted, but for the right reason. He leaned against his hand, propped carefully against the ledge of the window while the other held her unoccupied hand. The patterned glow from the passing lights briefly outlined her silhouette to him, her eyes darting to spare him a quick glance before she smiled, “What?”

“Nothing,” he mused before watching the road ahead of them once again. They had pulled off of the highway, making way towards a shopping centre. “Where are we going?”

“Dinner at one of my favourite restaurants in the area,” she shrugged.

Shari’s Cafe and Pies.

The LED lights from the tall sign flooded the car, painting everything a sheer pinkish-red tint like an artificial blush that decorated the pair without the rose-tinted sunglasses.

She nodded towards the door as she locked their car, “Our hotel for the night is just a short drive closer to the city, but I thought you would appreciate some true American cuisine.”

He hummed in amusement, “Sounds like a healthy start to this road trip.”

The bell above their heads chimed, alerting the staff of new arrival. A stout lady made her way over with a half-smile, “Just you two, lovebirds?”

They nodded, following her lead to a booth along the wide windows. Pies were displayed behind the bar, with more pies in a rotating display that sat on the counter. He watched a couple of guys inhale their meals just a little way across the cozy diner.

He scoured the menu, tempted to ask his girlfriend for a recommendation but she beat him to it with a chortle, “Get whatever you’re in the mood for, but I recommend the blueberry pie for dessert.”

He caught her wink before making a face, “You’re just biased.”

She rolled her eyes, “Biased only because it is the best type of pie to exist, second to chicken pot pie of course.”

'Cause some nights I can't explain The way I feel, the way I'm wired You make things seem so clear So we can leave the lights out And you're sick of questioning The wait that comes with every hour But in the night with you it's clear

With their long road trip ahead of them, nights past Seattle and Portland, the ten-hour drive to San Francisco was the longest drive they have had by far. Taking turns with every pitstop for roadside restrooms and scenic views, the drive had been an adventure in itself. They even stopped a little outside of Seattle for him to say hi to an old friend from school.

“Colorado plate up ahead,” she pointed out, index finger towards the white SUV a little ways ahead. “We’re still missing eighteen from this bingo—Have you even been keeping track?”

He feigned shock at her accusation, turning his head to check over his shoulder briefly before switching lanes, “I got two alright?”

She groaned in her seat, finger reaching for another potato chip from the centre console. He chuckled, opening his mouth waiting for her to feed him one to which she obliged. They missed the last pitstop due to the traffic in the lot, deciding to save for the next location instead.

“There’s a stop in about 10 miles,” she nudged, alerting him of the sign that they had brushed past. He nodded, reaching for his iced tea.

“Good,” he swallowed. “I really gotta go.”

“Because you keep drinking all our hydration supplies!”

“Am not,” he bickered, sticking his tongue out teasingly before focusing back on the highway. “Where are we going after San Fran? L.A.?”

Out of his peripheral, she shook her head, “No, we’re gonna stop at Yosemite National Park before L.A. I thought you would enjoy some stretches and light exercises after all the driving.”

He muttered a small, thank god, as he put his bottle down. The remainder of the drive was rather uneventful, just music and the final stop before she took over the drive. Once they got to San Francisco, they located their friend’s Air B&B to unload their stuff before dinner.

Fisherman’s Wharf looked amazing under the winter night sky. The pier was littered with Christmas lights, festive ornaments dangled from the lamp posts. People were bundled up in their winter jackets and windbreakers. Everyone on the pier had smiles on their faces, shoulders brushing against friends or hands held in pockets with their loved ones. Children squealed and ran, parents chasing after them, warning them to slow down.

With a tiny tug, he pulled his girlfriend off to the side, a quieter extension of the pier was occupied by a few couples. The sky was dark and the lights of the wharf reflected in the murky ripples of the ocean. The atmosphere grew cold as a gust of wind brushed their cheeks. He watched her expectantly as she looked across the waters, eyes squinting at what she probably assumed was Alcatraz. His burning gaze caught her attention, she frowned.

“What are you looking at?”

He grinned sheepishly, “You…”

The girl scrunched her nose at both the cold and his cheesy comment, leaving nothing else in her wake as her eyes returned to the waters. His hand reached for hers, folded over the ledge of the pier. The warmth was comforting against her frozen ones, her own fingers lacing with his.

From the stills of ambience, there was a man playing his saxophone by the shops back where they had come from. The water lapped at the rocks and the log rolls shifted below them. People continued to chatter idly. Neither of them tried to talk, soaking in the moment by merely pressing their shoulders together. It was a nice change in scenery from their own port city.

“I can hear your thoughts,” she mumbled from beside him. He hummed in response, briefly tearing his gaze from the Golden Gate bridge in its faintest illumination behind foggy apparitions.

Of course, she did…

He chuckled and removed his hand from hers, draping his arm over her shoulders to pull her closer. He was unable to formulate his thoughts and feelings into cohesive sentences, opting to let her feel for them instead. He was content, and that was enough to leave him satisfied with the moment.

So we can leave the lights out Yeah, we can leave the lights out

Originally posted to my secondary blog in July 2021. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.

#repost #relocating my personal works #prose #songfic #short fiction #dabin #trøves #edm #creative writing #happiest memories with you

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hyp-oh-critical · 3 years ago

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First Time by Seven Lions, SLANDER, Dabin & Dylan Matthew

To my beloved partner and the memories of our first event together.

Listen on Soundcloud / Spotify

In the darkness All I see is you You When I'm lost You lead me home It's true Oh

The peaceful room was filled with shallow breathing matched by the infrequent movements under the thin blanket that draped over their bodies. Visions were obscured by the darkness with only little slits of light coming through the thick blinds. Her eyes wandered over where he lay on his side facing her, eyes also narrowly trying to make out her figure. It was hard, but they could just barely see the vague outlines of one another. Her hands lifted away from the spot on his arm, blindly searching for the side of his face instead.

A warm hand meets hers halfway, gently maneuvering hers to his lips before placing them right where she was hoping to find purchase. Her head inches closer to him, following his shallow breathing, and he would do the same, mirroring her small movements until their foreheads touched. She slowly looked up, lips hovering centimetres away from him as the two of them stared at each other through the darkness.

He makes the first and final move, bringing himself closer to her until their lips touch. Slow and languid, he took her upper lip between his. Lost in a bubble of time, their kiss repeated until they pulled away. Inviting and full of adoration, all it breathed was comfort.

Minutes became hours, time was easily forgotten as they filled the gap with pillow-talk from odd rambles to little stories of their separate pasts. In between the hushed conversations that didn’t go beyond the bedroom, were those small kisses that led to lip bites and huffs of joyous disbelief.

This was their moment, after weeks riddled with confusion and awkward hesitancy, this was their opportunity to make up for that lost time, yet it didn’t feel like enough.

So don't stop now I'm falling for you, I can't lie I wanted you to stay 'Cause it's hard to run away It's hard to run away

They saw the sun pass, the sky getting darker yet again as if they never left the early morning kisses and cuddles that they shared less than twelve hours ago. Fingers danced along her shoulder, as she matched his movements, nails gently scratching against the fabric of his t-shirt.

“We should get up soon,” she gave a tired smile.

“What time do you have to head home?”

She took a look at the time on her phone, “Before dinner?”

He nodded, eyes returning to the ceiling briefly before he returned his gaze back to her, “Recovery day.”

She chuckles, “Lazy day is what it is.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” his face contorts ever so slightly as he lets out a little exhale.

He nudges her closer with his arm, her head coming up to the crook of his neck. The familiar scent that always gave her a sense of serenity, was almost overwhelming. She thrived off the soft heartbeat riddled with the scent of her new home. She felt safe. Almost.

Another hour passes, an hour later than she originally planned to leave. Behind schedule, one might say, but it was hardly a schedule when neither of them even bothered to get up to brush their teeth and grab some sort of breakfast.

“I’ll get up if you get up.”

The infamous lines almost always resulted in neither party moving even the smallest muscle in their tired bodies. Yet here she was, on his lap, hands in a weird web intertwined in his hair and settled at the side of his neck.

“Looks like you’re trapped,” a small chuckle erupted as his legs lock her in place.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers between kisses, arms encircling her hips to keep her steady and safe.

It took way too much effort to leave their comfort spot. Might have just been easier to stay…

I, I knew that you were worth it I don't know if I deserve this You, have given me a purpose You, yeah you were always worth it

She wasn’t supposed to be there, they both knew that. What worked out to be a blatant white lie to her mother, meant an entire weekend spent with one another but it was worth the fib and the extra work done to cover her tracks and to ensure a tight alibi if anything were to come up.

Although she looked at him with nothing less than pure adoration, a part of her still had questions. His eyes held something similar, but he was finding it harder and harder to repress his feelings of eagerness and absolute disbelief.

“It’s funny how it all worked out… but I’m glad it did.”

She smiled back in agreement. There was no arguing with that. This was their moment, after weeks riddled with confusion and awkward hesitancy, this entire weekend was a huge advancement in their newfound relationship and neither of them could deny it. This was their time to make up for what could have been earlier on, but neither of them were upset that it took this long to achieve.

It was almost enough.

Oh, feels like we're falling for the first time Oh, this is exactly what it feels like When I can't go to sleep unless you're lying next to me Oh, feels like we're falling for the first time

They were in separate beds for the first time in two nights, and it felt foreign almost. The messy sheets didn’t feel the same, there was no warm body to roll and tuck in closer to, there was no forehead to lean against and there were no warm lips to press little kisses onto. Her duvet felt heavier, and his left remained cold. Had it always been this empty in their beds?

She brought herself closer to her body pillow, and he draped his arm over his eyes with a sigh. The lack of sleep finally caught up to them, but it was hard to push the feeling of hallow and needing aside. Neither of them had felt this odd sense of missing something for a long time, it was almost indescribable.

One day apart, and I miss you’s were being sent wherever they could get their message across. It was almost cliche how it didn’t take a lot for either of them to feel the way they did. Two evenings spent dancing among sweaty bodies, bodies swaying to the harsh music in a packed stadium as they sang their hearts out to songs they could recall, and early mornings spent lazing around and making out.

That’s all it took for them to feel the tug. The yearning for a comforting, warm embrace and litter of kisses again on the inviting grey linen.

When I can't go to sleep unless you're lying next to me Feels like we're falling for the first time

He slowly peers down at the girl curled up in his arms, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Here he was, head shaking in disbelief at the sheer luck that has put him in such a spot. One he wasn’t aware he missed so much until she came around. His hand rubs the point of her shoulder a little faster than usual before he exhaled the pressure he had built up in his lungs from holding his bated breath. He leaned down to press his lips firmly to the top of her head.

Her bleary eyes peeked at him through tired slits, a baby-like grin appearing.

“What’s up, handsome?”

“Nothing,” he smiles, as he gives her a tiny squeeze though she remains skeptical.

“Nothing,” he reassured her a second time, urging her to return to her little slumber.

Originally posted to my secondary blog in July 2021. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.

#repost #relocating my personal works #prose #songfic #short fiction #seven lions #slander #dabin #dylan matthew #edm #creative writing #happiest memories with you

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hyp-oh-critical · 3 years ago

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hyp-oh-critical · 3 years ago

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One That Got Away by Jason Ross, Dabin and Dylan Matthew

Listen on Soundcloud / Spotify

I know I talk about it too much But it's the only thing to do Tell me do you still crave my touch, Or do you long for something new?

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t answer the phone. Leave your message after the beep, otherwise ring again if it’s urgent!”

The dull tone after her voicemail left him unsure and empty, remunerating on words he had worked up to say but they seemed to evade his mind. His finger traced the rim of the traveller mug in his cup holder, coffee long gone but the flavour still left his mouth feeling bitter and dry. He gulped, realizing his voicemail was taking too long so with a slight cough, he composed himself yet again.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. I hope you’re doing well… it’s been a while and I know this might sound crazy, but I still miss you. If you’re free sometime, we should—we should go out for lunch. Yeah… let me know.”

His finger was quick to slide over the red button, ending the voicemail before he could embarrass himself any further. A huge sigh left his parted lips. Forehead propped against his steering wheel, an exasperated string of curses pieced together haphazardly as he felt his sinus tense up. Tears were welling at the brim of his eyes yet again.

The sound of an engine starting up, snapped him out of his state of anguish. Out of habit, he turned his cheek away from being possibly spotted as the owner pulled out of their parking spot next to his own car. It was something that she hated; how he would turn away to conceal his emotions as if that would fix anything.

Once the car had passed, his head fell back, colliding with the headrest, eliciting yet another strangled sound of desperate yearning. He wanted nothing more than to be able to go home to her, to his source of comfort. The feather-like touches and childish gleams, only the sound of hushed whispers sharing the smallest of thoughts.

That just wasn’t reality. 'Cause I've been in a daze I can't look away, oh, from you And I can see you've changed I wonder if I've changed you too

Her beauty, her grace. She moved with the utmost precision—poised and swift yet oh-so fluid. He knew she was dedicated, evident in the hours out of her week spent in the prestigious studio. Her feet were always sore and her muscles were tense, but not once did she ever complain. It was her muse, there was nothing she would want to complain about. Her smile was still bright, even brighter with the lights centred on her as she performed, hair following her moving frame in a flurry as she spun again, and again, and again.

He never quite understood how she was able to execute all those perfect pirouettes without getting dizzy, even going as far as to call her the human spinning top. She hated that nickname but she would smile regardless, growing fond of his teasing.

From his spot on the balcony, he could tell she had changed. She had grown out her hair for once, a nice length that reached past her collarbones, something she was never able to do before due to her impulsivity to cut her locks before they reached the desired length.

Applauses erupted through the theatre. He blinked once, then twice, realizing her performance was over. She tiptoed to the front of the stage, presenting the crowd with her final bow. Her eyes glistened as she waved and quietly thanked the audience. He applauded as she walked off stage, afraid she would be able to pick him out from the audience had he done so earlier.

I've had too many lonely days Starin' at my phone, wishin' all this pain away I wonder if you notice, babe You're the only one that could make me feel this way

The night breeze caught his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake but he ignored the ticklish sensation, too absorbed with the bottle of warm beer in his left hand, phone in the other. He was thumbing through an old album, series of photos, goofy selfies of their usual antics and candid portraits of her from their outings. She was always insecure about how she looked, worried over what others thought of her—it was the self-deprecating dancer in her—but there was nothing to not admire about her in his eyes, so he captured all her best moments hoping to show her the collection one day.

His finger ghosted over a video, he wanted to skip it but a huge part of him couldn’t bear to do so; curiosity too enticing to refuse.

The screen door behind him creaked open, the stray voice of his best friend caused him to jump, phone and beer almost slipping out of his grasp, “Hey bro, we’re packing up leftovers, you want a share?”

He sighed, managing to compose himself before spilling either onto the old, wooden porch, “Uh yeah, I’ll be in to help clean up in a minute.”

His friend hesitantly lingered, eyes peering cautiously over his shoulder to see what he had been so absorbed with. At the small glance of a familiar video they had seen one too many times, his friend simply retreated back into the house, the front door closing quietly behind him.

The video loaded and his own chuckle echoed in his ear, “What are you doing babe?”

“Stop~” she whined trying to hide her face from the camera view. “I’m breaking in the pointe shoes.”

He watched as she continued to absolutely demolish her brand new ballet slippers, stretching and bending them to ruin the material.

“Why on earth would you do that, you just got them!”

She pauses with her heel about ready to cave in her shoes from the outer arch as she peers up at the camera following her every move, “I will absolutely not be able to dance in them unless they are broken in so I can fit them. I have to do this, it’s etiquette, it’s routine.”

“How, avant-garde,” he murmurs loud enough to catch on. She emitted laughter, causing a flutter of warmth down his spine.

He missed this...

'Cause I've been in a daze I can't look away, oh, from you And I can see you've changed I wonder if I've changed you too

Eyes locked and followed the shape of her lips, lightly dusted a hibiscus red from her chapstick, “It’s been amazing, the new company takes such great care of us. We have performances lined up practically every month. It’s exhausting but also so much fun.”

He smiled at her usual enthusiasm for her professional career in performative arts, “I’m sure it is. Out there chasing the high of performing. You are resting whenever you can, right?”

“Of course, I started sleeping earlier and drinking less coffee,” she chuckles, a teaspoon stirring at her tea latte on the table. “We did this showcase last month…”

Her voice trailed as he fell into thought. Was he to tell her he still attended? He still kept tabs on her performances as if they were still together. He had promised her he would be at every show and every production no matter how small the role because he knew how much effort she poured into ballet. A part of him was never able to neglect that promise despite their break-up.

“It was one of my best ones so far, I wish you were there to see it. Quinceton was there, you would have been able to meet him, we all went for a huge group dinner after!”

The smile on his lips tightened a bit, faltering at the mention of her new boyfriend but he was quick to shake his head, “Sorry, you know how work gets sometimes, but send me the details for your next show, I’ll be there for sure.”

Yeah, I'm selfish But I can't let you leave Yeah, baby, if it's up to me You will never be the one that got away

Originally posted to my secondary blog in November 2020. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.

#repost #relocating my personal works #prose #songfic #short fiction #jason ross #dabin #dylan matthew #edm #creative writing #breakup #relationship woes

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hyp-oh-critical · 3 years ago

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Hex by Dravyn

Imagine yourself as a runaway confronted by a cult in the outskirts of the dystopian city doomed to fall...

Listen on Soundcloud / Spotify

The subway rushes past the girl as she presses herself flat against the cement tunnel. It passes with the high-pitched squeaks of the tracks and she carefully hops across the hot steel to wiggle through a poorly cut wire fence.

The reeking odour of the filthy sewer evades her senses, a dirt-covered hand coming up to block out as much of the unpleasant scent as she could. Dim lights sparsely installed along the sides of the grey walls illuminate the murky waters that sloshes around with each step she made.

She briefly checks the cracked watch, 19:01.

She should have clocked in on the scanner back at her dingy apartment a little over an hour ago but from the emerging echo of heavy boots and gruff authoritative voices, the government rats were already aware of her absence. Her heart starts to race as she picks up into a sprint away from the military men.

A beam of white light passes ahead of her, drawing her attention over her shoulder where five figures start to shout. The sound of yelling and boots clashing against the murky waters muffles the sound of her heartbeat thumping against her ribs.

She weaves through another set of wired fencing, briefly shaking the men off her tail as she faces a fork in the path. Out of the three tunnels in front of her, one leads to a drop, one to a narrow but soft exit out into the forests and the other is a dead end.

A heavy hand just barely grips the fabric of her dirty jacket as she makes a run for the left tunnel. Her pace grows tired and almost sluggish after another seven minutes of running through the sewers. The voices and the flashlights don’t let up as she comes up to a wired grate between her and the freedom she’s been planning for.

“CARTER-492 IS COMING TO A BLOCKED END, WE GOT HER!”

Eyeing the rusted lock on the grate, the girl leaps towards the heavy metal and slams it open with her body weight. Her footing goes awry with the small drop and hidden rocks, but she keeps running into the forbidden greenwood. The forestry starts to hide her trails the further in she goes, frequently looking behind her for any signs of failure.

As far as she knew, no one from the city is allowed in the forest beyond the broken city’s walls, especially not the government officials. The city was built as a fortress to keep everyone in, and after months of planning, she was able to escape.

She finally did it.

Once she deems it is safe, the girl starts to slow down. Her vision grows with black spots as she tries to catch her breath. Her aching back finds comfort against a tree trunk, the soaked pants and sweaty shirt she wore clung to her skin, growing cold from the slight wind meandering through the trees.

Her breathing goes steady, the wind stops and the sound of laughter echoes in the distance. Hushed whispers in the wind were enough to cause the girl to snap her head up, alert and afraid of an ambush. Of defeat.

As she scans for the origins of the whispers, her eyes land upon an orange light coming from the distance. With quiet footsteps, she watches her surroundings with the utmost caution as she tiptoes towards the sound of whispers.

The closer she gets, the glow from the campfire became more noticeable and Carter realizes the whispers she heard were chants coming from the group of people adorned in emerald green cloaks. She remains hidden in a crouch behind the bush.

Hairs stand on ends as she tries to understand the language, but something about people dressed in cloaks and dancing around a fire in the forbidden outskirts sent an unnerving tingle of flight from her nervous system. As she begins to back away quietly, a hand grabs her by her knapsack, whipping her around.

She came face to face with an unfamiliar figure donning the same green cloak as the others, “Please let me go.”

The girl resists the harsh grip, trying to free herself. The figure’s stone-cold eyes were piercing, and unwavering at the struggling girl.

“You probably don’t understand me, but I need to leave,” she tries again, this time taking a quick peek behind her to make sure the others haven’t noticed her presence.

The light from the fire gave a glint of a shiny dagger in the person’s hand, a feminine voice responds, “Oh I understand perfectly.”

Pulling herself away from the shock, she was quick to throw a kick into the mysterious woman’s abdomen, sending her flying back to the ground and the dagger falling out of her grasp. The chanting stops, and Carter jumps to her feet to escape, but the woman harshly yanks her by the ankle as she makes a pass, causing her to fumble. Her hands grip the dagger and send a precise slash into her foe’s hand, freeing her.

With the dagger in her keep, she makes a beeline back in the direction of the city’s sewer. Weaving in between trees to try and change her course proves difficult from the speed at which the cloaked members were gaining. A quick look back left her vulnerable to her peripheral where a strong pair of arms lunge out to grab her, causing her to scream.

She catches sight of the men from the sewers had been waiting for her. A flurry of hands tries to take her down but she resists countlessly and flails her new weapon around, fighting to leave.

Just as the cuffs unlock, a sharp weapon flew through the air, piercing one of their shoulders, alerting everyone.

Several figures in cloaks were waiting with their weapons drawn, the men react without a missing beat, drawing out their guns.

“LOWER YOUR WEAPONS,” the commanding officer shouts.

A click of tongue echoes before someone pulls their hood down and chimes with a mocking voice, “Not in our own territory.”

The loud burst of an echo from a military gun ruptures the quiet standoff, prompting a fight. The man holding Carter releases his grip, sending her to the ground in disregard. This gives her the chance to elude the fight. She ducks under low-hanging tree branches, scampering into the forest again, following a different direction.

Everyone who was after her, now preoccupied, provides Carter with a chance to escape, but her grip around the stolen dagger remains ungiving as she wades through the forest. She has to stop running eventually, but not until she could promise herself some safety. With the unknowing hiding behind every tree trunk, she was uncertain of when that would be.

"The reason behind the track's title, Hex, is because the project was built around a Hex Cougar sample. Unfortunately, that sample did not remain in the track as I discovered another producer had already used it. Regardless, I still decided to name the track after the original artist that inspired me." - Dravyn

Originally written for Gastown Studio's publication in March 2020 as a collaboration with music producer, Dravyn. Now rewritten and published as part of my Relocated Writes Series.

#repost #relocating my personal works #prose #songfic #short fiction #dravyn #edm #creative writing #dystopic writing #collaborative project

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