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tlgpandoramia · 5 months

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Neon Blood : The First Chapter

Just the first chapter of my new book. Currently it's the second draft, however I still didn't decided entirely about many things, so It may drastically change it in the future...Or Not XD Any (kind) feedback it's appreaciate it. OBS: It contains several spelling and grammar errors.

Welcome To Near Dark

Great and creatives mind preaches about the Devil and evil in the form of a horned man, that the world started as a ball of nothingness, beginning when the first human were born...A little egocentric thought, it isn't?

The devil can be quite a genius, tricking people to believe that It doesn’t exist, alive in the mind of the faithful that if though they pray for Its destruction, fear gives birth to strength, after all it’s a standard human thing to ignore the fact that if you despise something, then you’re acknowledging its existence. A perfect disguise for a world where no one believes the very thing in front of their eyes. Think about it, a perfect disguise, for the evil to do the Devil’s job.

Mary Shelley once said ‘’No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks’’. Few blood-hand individual will see themselves as doing a genuine macabre thing, instead perusing the path of justifying their actions, either by using the excuse of a god complex, or just for fun, true evil draws in the weakness of the unfaithful.

How easy it would be to tell a tale and make as if some guy in a jumpsuit, or a creepy clown acted as the antagonist bogeyman in my closet, after all many children are scared by that. When I came to be, Father called me a perfect angel, saying how pretty those bright blue eyes were, or the pretty ginger flocks coming out of the skull. An ordinary man, disguising himself as an angelic persona with fluffy white wings, yet later that child grow to be a girl and she started to see his true self, a definition of deception and pain.

I could indulge in a story about some child that got crushed by an incoming truck and left on the scorching asphalt. However, nothing worked as in the movies, as she learned why fiction is called fiction, no reanimated corpses attempting to eat your brain, werewolves howling under the moonlight and ripping humans apart, or the cliche that danger is outside and lurking in the dark.

Sometimes it happened in the dark, I would cry and beg for someone to be telepathic and read my thoughts. Father loved horror movies, he used to tell stories about shadow like beings living in the house, and locked me inside a dark closet just for the laughs.

‘’You talk and our family’s over, you don’t want that, do ya?’’ the raspy tone still plagues my mind, in special during the night. A perfect child, quiet, intelligence, non problematic and quite independent, yet I had to act as a the clumsy and silly girl that would fall and injured herself in a daily basis.

Now I’m seventeen, just achieved that milestone last year February’s, although no pride behind it, I saw more disgrace, poverty and pain than an experience slash horror protagonist, no scary slasher killed me, in the final scene a random car appeared and picked me up. On the outside a neutral persona, yet inside things were different, screaming, crying and laughing, all in the same time, and in the same order.

Things changed, and the prophecy of the family being separated came true, although I stayed in the good guys side, it could a case of Freddy and Frank, that returned to the sequel to suffer the same fate in a different place, nevertheless it feels that a mantle of fog envelops me and prevents anyone to see me the same way they did before, it can be so cold and lifeless inside of it, a feverish dream, or a summer afternoon nap, nothing has the sensation to be real, a collective madness that involves my brothers and mother, a dream sequence of some kind, although it sound absurd, not a single souls enjoys when everything’s perfect and the character realizes that it happened during a dream.

No demon or haunting are present in this plot, I’m haunted, okay, yet not by some gray skin with spiked fangs. It may be wrong to think, but it would’ve be easier if the haunting stayed physical, the screams and traumas caused more injuries that the metal leash or the slaps, no one wishes to hear from their parent that they were a mistake, that nobody would missed me, Father acted cruel without trying, or he tried to offer a lesson about real life.

The Dilemma that ‘’if it’s bad, why not leave?’’ can be common, and I have an answer for it, a caged bird that lived its entire live inside bars sees flying as an illness. If Shelley’s quote has real knowledge, then it means that father held no evil inside of him, trying on his own way to prove a point of view.

By thinking about it, I can’t shake the thought that no one stood up for me, how wrong its to think it, even as a intrusive emotion, I didn’t asked for help, feeding the foolish judgment that somehow any of the three could notice it. Kids dream about strong heroes flying and save them, later in life that children becomes the adult that were their ideal savior. I don’t feel like one, or capable of aiding that little girl, to be honest from time to time I tend to still be scared of the past.

I had mother in my thought when the decision to reveal what happened won, I didn’t wished for her to remain married with that boomer, yet the doubt that she would take his side and refuse to believe in my version kept me from sleeping for many nights. Telling that a child is bad when it isn’t changes their soul, starting as a thought, then confirmation and last, vengeance, when the wish of wanting nothing more that to be evil comes over.

I didn’t turned into a slasher. However I didn’t gained justice for ten years of abuse, we just left it all behind in Detroit, hoping that moving somewhere else could help all four of us.

She couldn’t afford Las Californias, or a one bedroom house anywhere in the country. We were lost, they all enjoyed our old home and it broke the younger one.

As a child, I imagined how the sea and a beach would be, photos could’ve helped, if only people without a neural implant could access it. The sea fascinates me, how life began in it, so full of life and history, a living poetry of billion of years.

For three days and three nights we stayed in cramped hotels that smelled as if a chem party happened there, I preferred to stay on the chair instead of sleeping on those bed sheets, imaging the beach waves and how it could feel during late evenings, more that once I caught signs of people meant to be road killers, yet much less charming.

Mother talked about that town hundred of times, describing it as the perfect haven for the punks and wires, a woman born and raised there, leaving it behind for some steam surfer guy.

The trip proved to be brutal to mother’s wallet, and for me, since I have a bad breath dog breathing on my neck for hours.

Both boys kept going on who should decide the radio song , quite annoying bantering, songs changing every two minutes, until one of the great lords decided that it’s worth to be played.

‘’In the web that is my, I begin again…’’ Mom hums to the song coming out of the dusty radio, she has her moments, sometimes longer that usual.

‘’Nope’’ Jesse leans over, pressing the button and changing station for the fifth time.

‘’Come on, that was rad in my time’’ the next music station proves to be boring to both boys, two industrial guys cringing over the slang and non synth wave song.

‘’Not yet’’ the two syncs their voices, Mom sighs in defeat, pressing the button three times until a rock music plays, something about a teenage frankstein.

Xeno stretches its paws, forcing me to further shrug my legs, between the travel from that creepy hotel and the three hours on the highway my poor lower limbs took the worse, not to mention wearing a long skirt had been the stupidest thing ever after the name Jesse gave the dog. It feels that every lower muscle cramped and shrink, January should've been colder, winter and all, yet the climates changes, plus the local humidity made everything worse.

It amazes me how neither of them bother to ask ‘’Are we there yet?’’, classic line in any horror movie, a family moving into a chaotic and fisherman town, to live in a decayed overpopulated building, still requires a decent author to make things interesting, it could have some dark romance, and no computer generated imagery, or that virtual reality images, I’m a practical effects girl all the way.

‘’Look, jus’ a little longer’’ Mom points to the neon billboard on a small island a few meters from the shore and the coastal rocks.

It says ‘’Welcome To Near Dark’’, a turned off neon LED banner, daytime reduced it to a giant glass letters, erasing all the traces of the images.

‘’Real niche, Mom’’ Jesse adjust the headphones that ran out of battery hours ago’’It smells funny, fish, and oil, and fuel…’’

‘’Jesse...’’Mom rubs his left arm, glancing back at Michael and I, she told so many tales about this town, conjuring images of a true Las Californias haven experience’’I know things are awful, like totally gnarly, but I think that you’re goin’ to really like here’’

Mom optimism can make a corpse believe in resurrection, it makes my heart twitches, almost if it would hurt if I chose not to believe, as if she speak it enough times it will be true.

The air’s hotter, cursed be humidity, making my hair frizzy and reducing my head size. A fresh breeze comes from the sea helps to fend off the thick warm air, Michael has a stoic expression, yet this type of weather its his thing, how Jesse and him would spend hours in the backyard old pool, the horrible combination of aromas is just a side effect for him.

For me it plays a different role, as the sun only purpose is to burn my skin, causing some friendly fire on my exposed forearms.

And so it begins, the first sights of civilization of Near Dark, which promised nothing and delivered everything, a kaleidoscope of styles and bizarreness. People driving convertibles, whooping and hollering at anything that has legs, pedestrians showing middle fingers and shouting bad names, cursing the driver’s family down to their first generation, a few throw things at it, a true free for all, a true beach town experience, the weakest here could send the strongest from Detroit to a clinic.

To add further, sunburn skins and bodily implants seems to be the fashion, plus a notorious clothing shortage, a lady wearing a yellow fluorescent bikini spins around on a Rollerblade, waving at the upcoming vehicles and just acting as the standard gore character that get kill in the first forty minutes.

Tourist and locals alike passes by the street, carrying their frozen treats and ice cream cones melting on the two afternoon sun, a thrill of sweat grease on the sidewalk, it should be the least of the contamination worries, as the gutter are filled with wasted cigarettes, discarded food packaging and plastic, I can imagine the state of the water drainage system, at least no one will flow down there.

Mom flags the pedestrians, giving time for the crowd to disperse, some do just that, allowing us to pull over and enter a side way to some rinky dink gas station. Others are not so polite, screaming at mother to be careful, a guy punches the hood, not hard enough to cause a full argument, yet loud enough to make her apologizes. He passes by my window, although the wagon truck is tall, I just sink lower on the seat to avoid eye contact, a gang of Nazi Runners, mowhanks, loose tank tops, thick gloves covered by spikes, shoulders pad meant to tackle on their victims and the surgical implanted enhance eyes, dark silver goggles scanning me and waiting for a breach to engage in their illicit hobbies.

As soon as the wagon parks, Jesse jumps out, dragging Xeno along by the leash, running to the opposite side of the station.

Although Michael’s my brother which I love with all my heart, being alone with a male a few centimeters away sparks an unsettling sensation, he breaks the uncomfortable mood between us by distancing himself.

‘’Hey, you saw that thing on the sign?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’Nevermind’’ Michael sighs, leaving the car and entering the gas station, just standing there without any goal.

My knees twinges on the chance to be stretch, however the humidity is worse outside, forcing me to shield my eyes from the sun and the breeze of warm wind. The beach has a second sea, this one of people, some laying on the hot sand, cooking alive while others are enjoying the water, most of the frequents are tourist, it can be spotted with ease due to eye squinting and expensive sunglasses, over the years pollution made the sun increased its radiation rays, or whatever its called. People passes by and throw glares at me, the worst part is how I can feel the sweat sliding on my legs below the socks, lack high knees frying my skin, can’t blame them for the crooked eyes, I would do the same if someone’s wearing fluorescent bikinis back in Detroit.

Mom fills the car with gas, giving me an accidental high from the smell, natives from here drinks fuel as part of an initiation ritual, how she knows this is beyond me, although I can guess the answer for this enigma.

On the outskirts, three older teenagers ignores the beach across the street, instead diving in the dumpster, Jesse run past it, pointing beyond the city.

‘’There’s a freakin’ amusement park there, look, Mom!’’

At the distance, a glorious roller coaster shape decorates the horizon, even two enormous spotlights simulating eyes of some sort, below it a large construction gives access to the pier, beach and a coastal mall. The whole place’s sleeping, the glass signs and billboards, plus it lacks crowd, although Jesse’s swooning over the sight, Mom’s unphased, mere giving him an agreement and focusing her attention to the gas pump.

One of the teens falls on the floor, laughing about it and complaining about the cement hardness, only to dive right back in. A faded green hair girl pick a white and red fast food package, taking a piece of a half eaten pie, biting it as it’s a delicacy of some sort.

Runways escaping from someone or something, those three could’ve been Michael, Jesse and I, Mom worked hard to prevent that, pointing us to the right direction and creating an environment where we could talk to each other, instead of dwelling within our heads and battling it alone.

Near Dark it’s full of this type, overpopulated it, one on every sidewalk, some better dressed, a few with implants, yet all carries the same essence, a dozen bleed with the background, attempting to survive and just go on another day.

As I open my bad, the wallet beg for some content, it’s being a whole month since it saw money, yet a single ten Neodollar chip remains, the last memory from my collection sold two months ago.

Mom expressions frowns, yet she makes the choice to handle over her last chip to those teenagers, urging Jesse to approach.

‘’Jes, get those kid this for some food’’ although Jesse don’t challenges her orders, yet gives me a side look when I also give some chips for the homeless youth.

He opens the mouth for a split second, a single word coming out, however Mom rubs his shoulder, although he’s reluctant, Jesse budges, giving the chips to the teenagers, signaling that the task went smooth. It mesmerizes me how happy those kids are by receiving the chips, jumping around and teasing each other by touches and playful punches, waving at Mom and screaming around.

‘’Thanks, cougar, you’re ten!’’ the green hair one performs a gesture with both hands, Mom face lights up on the compliment.

No doubt that those chips will be quite useful for them, buying food for tonight or maybe rent some place to take a shower, nevertheless we could’ve used it as well.

Jay insist on going into the amusement park as a reward from following the command, circling around the car and putting Xeno back inside.

‘’Come on, I’m more desperate that a brain eater zombie in a influencers party!’’

‘’Later, zombie punk, Grandma’s watin’ for us’’

A convertible full of Runners approaches, the beat coming out of their speakers vibrates the wagon interior, at least it look that the group’s having fun, unlike me, being burn alive by the scorching seat. Michael has the right idea, getting the key for his motorcycle on the wagon’s cart, a true classic from decades ago, a custom Cynthia Davidson model, bough in a junkyard and customize to his taste, the memory of Jesse bringing the possibility that it could’ve belonged to someone that died in an accident cheers me up a little, he cherishes that motorcycle so much, and to think how he tried to sell it for money.

The remain of the city follows the same pattern, crowds of gangs, runaways, guys and gal rocking ripped bodies , turned off neon billboards and a awful brightness for a place that has the word ‘’dark’’ in its name. Ahead of the park the avenue gives access to several residential streets, the terrain so flat that I can see homes miles away, Mom calls it the ‘’Diamondback’’ where the rich lives, near the beach and the city’s center, the poor lives near the mountains, and below.

Jesse seems unpleased by the idea of meeting Grandma, crossing the arms and shaking the legs, to be honest, I can’t recall much of her and I understand his disinterested by it, she meet him the day he was born , almost fifteen years ago, even leaving the in the same day, Grandma refuses to leave the house for the past fifty years, she didn’t even show up for mine or Michael birth, so one can imagine everyone surprise when that old lady ring our apartment. Although, it seems cruel of a grandparent to do such thing, she never hide the distance between us, her and mom had many issues and it strained further the day she discovered about Michael’s pregnancy, I still remember the day she call and mistaken me for mom, ‘’Hey, did you or the kids die yet?’’, when a negative answer came, the call ended.

It must be hard for mom to have no one else to turn to help, forced to live with her three children in their grandmother’s house in some backwater Las Californias town. However, its amazing how Grandma agreed to offer us shelter in the first place. I have the best memory between the four of us and even with this quality, I recall little of her, a reddish brown hair woman with the same eyes as mine, although I’m not expecting a graceful elder lady serving milk and cookies, I hope that we ain’t digging yourselves in a house that will be plagued by constant discussions, it may be a sign of weakness, yet I no longer can’t take violence and screams, at least for the next months.

The stimulating from earlier vanishes as quick as it came, turning into the only clues of nature in this place. Bleached from the sunshine, overcrowded by rangy flora, almost if this place segregates from the rest of the city, who could’ve guess that’s the same location from forty minutes ago, a harsh, yet positive chance, I only hope Michael didn’t forgot to put on googles. Following an inclined road, and a eerie view of a ravine by the right, the Andrei matriarch house shows itself by the cliff. Large wooden poles laying around, forming symbols that fails to be familiar, some are craved to resemble animals, one type is the trident poles, it means ‘’Algiz’’, belonging to the Elder Futhrark runic alphabet, its use to offer protection and security, surrounding the fence project that seems untouched in decades. A six foot pentagram forged in metal hangs on the arc by the entrance.

Mother parks the car in front of the eight steps wood stairs leading to the porch, a delicate two people size swing agitates by wind, no doubt Jesse’s thinking how much this resembles the Knowby Cabin, although it’s larger and with luck no evil book in the basement. A shed ahead seems to act as a garage, however its impossible to go any further, as all manners of bizarre symbols and ornaments blocks the passage, some are unfinished poles or craving of the symbols around the property. Dolls head are hanging on the trees, their eyes replaced by shards of mirror, crosses made of wood circles around, either grandma’s trying to keep the evil in, or out, guess we’ll see soon.

This house, or cabin, it’s something else, to be mild. The design dates back to the two thousand, yet the construction pattern from the today is strong with this one, large windows, brown and neutral colors, lack of vibrant ones and a double glass door featuring seven tiles in a pair of segment top and solid, whatever it means, I read once about it in a magazine that explained about it, it was the same door, it seems heavy and sturdy, way to thick for the house of an elder lady edging her eighty years.

All is so quiet, Mom stares around, from her blink less eyes she’s expecting something to occur. Michael climbs down , going a few steps ahead before freezing, staring at the porch hidden for my vision.

A pair of legs sprawled out, wearing a worn out slipper. On the floor, Grandma’s impaled by a short wooden pole, right through her chest. The body lies below an aluminum plate, crushing the fragile body, a brick broken in half close to her head indicates how it happened.

An absurd amount of crimson blood overflows the porch, dripping on the stair as he eyes are wide open, and the tongue already purple, spread out on the right corner of the lips. Michael pupils dilated as if he saw his soulmate, while Jesse quint ahead, shaking the head and sitting on the part of the porch untouched by the substance. Mom sighs and kneels.

‘’Mom?’’ Michael’s unruffled about it, stepping back.

‘’Great, she died, how’ bout we sell this and go back to Detroit?’’ Jesse ignores a answer and takes Xeno out .

‘’Syrup mixed with red dye’’ Mom wheeze in disappointment, showing us the scheme, as the stake proves to be a mere piece of foam ‘’Mom, get up’’

The former corpse comes to live, removing the false eyeballs and laughing, like if anyone found it funny.

‘’Did a damn good job this time’’ the elder put her glasses back on, coughing the red syrup that invade the mouth.

Mom embraces her, still it doesn’t make the situation better or helps me to forget about the silly prank. The air get stuck in my throat, as if invisible hands strangulates me, I could pay the same way, fall on the floor and pretend to be dead, that would make us even, good thing Mom gave me such a good education.

She opened both main door, allowing the boys to bring in the boxes. Unpacking it’s the easier part about it, every appliance and furniture we owned was sold to either pay the lawyers or the bills, plus most of our belongings were left behind. We couldn’t afford a true moving trailer to bring everything, so everything ended up on the general store balcony, not even Jesse rare comic books escaped the fate, good thing Mom raised us in a bohemian style, avoiding implants, neural links and eletronics, instead letting us focus on physical things, I still remember about high school, while the others had their fancy neural implants, I resorted to dusty books fabricated in the past century, a few nicknamed me ‘’Time Traveler’’, teasing all the time about the peculiar way my family lived, I don’t miss school or technology.

The last books in the wagon are the rest of my books and Mom’s vinyl collection, tunnels to the past. Weird how much life changed over such a short time, it feels scary to be on this highway, things can go over the weather so quick, I had good memories about those vinyl, if only Dad hadn’t blighted it, once he kicked the door of my room because the music was too loud, wielding that leather leash that hurted so bad, the metal parts were heavy and wide, meant to cause bruises and with enough force, broken bones, the final hit would hurt me the most, as if each hit I would shrink, getting smaller and smaller, the final one gave me some nasty purple bruise on the back of my neck, a soreness that last for almost one week, in a few occasions I would catch my reflection during shower and see the damage on my back and shoulders , one more reason for a silly teenager to be disgust with her body.

‘’You alrigh’?’’ Mom pulls me off the trance, petting my shoulder and smiling, I know she means well and I’m not ashamed to talk about feelings, yet I can’t shake off the feeling of shame, as if she knows something quite embarrassing about me, I don’t want people pitying me or mentioning all the time what happened, on the other hand there’s nothing I wish more that to be given a lot of attention.

‘’Darling, you’th only woman that got nothing in a divorce’’ Grandma smokes a jet, grape flavor, a horrible smell raises.

‘’I know, but the guy had nothin’ to take, and I didn’t wanted a huge fight’’Mom takes off one box, putting on the floor before organizing everything in a weight order’’We didn’t need more fight’’

That’s my queue to leave, before they starts to referring to me in the third person as if I’m not present.

Inside, those two are already jumping around and exploring the first floor. Two bathrooms, one upstairs and other below the stairs, four bedrooms and a thick door blocking the access to the basement, eight padlocks and four locks, none of the fancy electronic codes or locks, just the vanilla way people used to do it. A woman living in a isolated house on the hill inviting people to live with her, talk about The House On The Skull Mountain.

The place’s a mess, to be delicate about it. Melted candles stick on the chandeliers, long ago since cleaned, weird symbols hanging around the living room, plants with vines and covered by thorns, the awfull scent of religious aroma and the essence of jet grape smoke. A true alternative nightmare, to add further, the huge statues of owls and wolfs don’t make things better in any degree, up on the wall a taxidermy head of a bear stares at me all the time, as if those glass eyes are following each step, and watching over the entrance.

It’s cozy, won’t lie about it, a certain charm mixing several styles and delusions. Aside from how muddle the house is, it’s clean enough, the wood floor shines and the decoration has no traces of dust.

Every room is a living tomb.

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tlgpandoramia · 11 months

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Chapter One : The Mortifalia

Notes : Hiii, after some inner struggle I decided to share some of my book in Tumblr. I'm just yearning for some feedback XD so I would appreaciate any, but please do be kind, that's my first draft and English is not my native language. Please, don't repost anywhere without my permission. Enjoy!

Word Counting : 4020k

Rate: 16+

`'Read my words well, as I write this under some influence, I feel that my head is about to pop, no idea if all those vaccines shots put a chip, or another virus inside of me, or maybe is just that fucking MORT-09 shit scratching my brain. The doctor said I just got to avoid everything and avoid to drink too much water and take sunbath, easy for that fucker to say, I feel like my body is completely dried, even my lips are all numb and rough for lack of water, the fever is not helping either. Anyway, screw that medical garbage, all the hospitals are full like a Best Buy in a sale day, everyone is coughing blood, and some are even bleeding from the eyes, mouth, nose, ears and pretty much everywhere, is so disgusting to see that, so I prefer to stay at home, at least here I have internet, my computer and nobody looking like a weird horror story. But, the doctors gave me a shot, a vaccine of some sort, saying that it isn't one hundred percent efficient, but it should help the immune system to fight the virus, I say it is bullshit, is not doing anything and my right arm is still sore from that stupid needle.

They said that this new virus came from a plant, or a flower, whatever, is the freaking same thing. But is ugly, last week when I had to go take the shot, I saw a guy bleeding from the head, like someone had cut the top and left it to bleed, the messed up part is that it wasn't normal red blood, but dark like a can of black tint, like a midnight lagoon, the news said that this is the last stage before going into coma, then is over, you fall into a sleep and that's it.

After the shot, I started having nightmares, not the usual scary bloody clown chasing you through an abandoned factory, kind of nightmare, but some real things, like it seems it actually happened, I don't know if it was just a weak moment from my delirious mind, this fucking fever and all the stress, but I heard some feral noises, sounding like shrinks coming straight off a hellish forest. Then I woke up, and saw something through the bedroom window leading to the yard, it was a black shadow of some sort, but it had flesh underneath, it was moving in like a foggy way, giggling around and lifting itself like a cloud of gas. I was up and ready, I know this, I even remember when the trigger was pulled and the bullet hit it. I even buried it, but its always coming back, digging itself off that dirt and the grass, I see it everywhere, in the corner of my eyes, inside the pipes, struggling to get inside, pushing the door and floating around, just like that damn black fog, or spores, that I see when the ignites are on, the vacuum cleaner can't deal with that, I used it, then the next day they reappeared, but that giant human shape black fog is always coming back, doesn't matter how deep I dig it.

Yesterday I spent eight hours watching over the window, aware all the time, feeling my eyes burning and the muscles cramping, but somehow I couldn't stop it, like a sleep paralysis. That's was when I started seeing that white glow fog on every surface, just floating and existing, when I left the house they turned into those huge shining orbs on the dark sky, glowing and singing to me, chanting in a soprano voice, beautiful and peaceful, something that I didn't felt in a long time, it was like angels telling me to law down and accept my death, that they would take me to a better place if I only allow it, that feeling of being rotten from the inside vanished, even the nightmares.

I...We, all thought that this virus was just another excuse for the big pharmaceutical companies to make vaccines and earn billions, but this is different, it doesn't feel like a conspiracy theory or something, it feels real.

My blood turned black, yet sometimes I can catch a glimpse of the red color if I look hard enough.

Today is October six of two thousands and seventeen, three days after the hospital visit, the news aren't positive or hopeful, showing footage of hospital being overrun by sick people, bodies being transported in every available vehicle and being toss inside containers, some are saying that that's it, the end of humankind, between that and global warming is a tough situation to get yourselves out of it.

This Mortifalia, isn't new, I heard about it back in two thousand and six, people from all over the world used it for different purposes, some native used it the flower as a medicine, others eat it like a meal, a few beauty industry people discovered and started using in cosmetics, and not to mention how some would use it as a drug, grab the flower, smash it and mix with hot water, then just smell that thing, it would give anyone a huge high, I did that back in university years ago, maybe that's how I got it, since nobody infected came near me in years and I barely leave my house for three years. When it started becoming an issue back in two thousand and thirteen, the government said that if you took the nitrogen pills and all the vaccines, you would be fine, and so we carry on in this pandemic. In those years almost nobody died, only going into coma, millions of people went to deep sleep, some remained to recent days, I know some people had the virus in the past and nothing happened, but now they are numbers in intensive care units. A little to late, but I throw away all that had the ``dormant Mortifalia``in their formulas, the shampoos, deodorant and that cursed healing water for the skin, they always said that it was impossible for those products to infected someone since the virus within was dead, who knows...Maybe that how I got infected or the flower smelling. Is unusual to say, but I feel at peace, feeling like I could just lay down and sleep forever, the angels don't stop to speak with me, but a part of me feels that this is wrong. There is no peace at slavery, at being a puppet, I'm a salve for a thing that is controlling me, commanding me in everything, even my own thoughts, and words. No! My words are my own, shut up now, and stop whispering in my ears, telling me what to do, or is this just what I'm supposed to believe? It's controlling me, I know, just like a puppet of an insane puppet master. The smell of blood is strong coming from the next house. No, it doesn't! Maybe I should watch those angels in the sky for a little longer.'' Words found in a pre outbreak letter

The story circles to the future, two thousand and twenty seven, disclosing around survivors, one in particular being Miyako Uzume, descendant of an ancient Japanese family with roots of witchcraft and a rumor of ``Chosen by a God``, bound by a promise with a deity until end of times. ``One shall see beyond men logical perspective, blessed to not join the army of pawns that shall walk upon Earth`` An old prophecy that turned the family popular back in Japan, as nobody appreciates they.

Enough of mysticism, those word are only coming out because I fear to speak about the reality that we set upon yourselves.

Beyond the metal and atomic bomb resistant walls, lies something that would make death seems like a frail human, extermination, nothing less. The girl don't remember how the world looked outside the metal box, how most of the days were spend hiding behind the apartment and looking out of the window, never coming in contact with people of the same age or friends in general, weeks would go by and only the sight of the family members could be seen, alongside the smell of recent baked cookies and how loud the progenitor used to listen to the news, yet for her the words never made much of a sense, considering that English proved to be different from asian mother tongue. Although melancholic and boring, the past hits with a home sick feeling, coming in strong and persistent.

Most people misses the old world with all of their hearts, the daily activities, go to work, bar and parties, hear those meaningless celebrities news and the idea of just existing. An emotion not share by the child, as it may be that those were never experienced, if the inner thoughts would ever be spoken out loud, strangers would condemn, after all who could be sympathetic towards someone that believes in the idea of a pandemic world being better that the past one, overall humans grew simplistic, surviving and coping with the past takes all their time, left with no time to judge others or the path someone else wishes to walk upon, worrying about surviving another day.

Dreams of traveling, earning degrees, buying houses and last generations vehicles were crushed years ago, if one were blessed by Lady Luck an approval letter for a shelter program or an invite to live inside a Military Zone arrived in the mailbox a few days before the breaking day, half of the issues could've been dealt with it, however feeling safe also worked as an ultimatum. To be able to live inside a secure place, a citizen should proves useful, assigned to be a working member of the new society, either by attending educational institutions, tasked to a specific job or being less fortunate and work as a manufacturing worker, aiding to keep the places sturdy, maybe joining the militia, options are limited, nevertheless one still has the power of choosing, even though this power lies in two paths, accept it or leave it.

Young kids or infant born within those camps believed that the inanimate concrete and steel is a sentient deity, that shields they for the horror of the outside world, of the lands dominated by the infected, kilometers of the Black Fog covering the capitals, corruption eating away every miserable human settlement out there. Cursing someone to go to hell no longer works, now the most lucky ones wishes for others to go beyond the walls and experience how it feels out there, death penalties also ceased to exist, if one commits a crime that calls for severe punishment, then exile seems logical enough.

Hopes for an ordinary life died six years ago, a major pike of infection overwhelmed hospitals across the world, and it couldn't function anymore with millions of humans going into stasis, the point of no returning, after a few more hours the virus had full control over the host. Despite never witnessing an infected or a victim, children that grew up in shelters learned about it, The Manual describes them as ``Former humans, now in absolute control of the Mortifalia``. Diversified by five stages, all shared an importance, yet the first worries the doctors, taking place between four to six hours after a bite, scratch, breathing the spores or by simple coming in contact with infected blood, airborne took most of the victims, as they never noticed it until the last moment, some areas in cities are so deep within Its territory that the air itself is bio hazard, one dies by suffocation before turning into a Courier.

Shelters were built by the Saga Corporation, half of it were put inside major military camps, however the organization took responsibility to generate their own food, water and electricity supplies. Each party has their own objectives, the military one being to avoid infected near the borders, as a high concentration of the infection can cause a Nucleus to be form, spreading the Black Fog through the wind, even infectiing the rain and the soil itself.

Miyako rest as the youngest daughter of the prestigious virologist, Doctor Reira Uzume, a veteran researcher of the Mortifalia and a key factor for creating a vaccine, the child takes the mother word over anything, admiring her beyond compression, a woman capable of running for president, if the government worked like before, the Uzume matriarch wrote half of The Manual Of The Infection, responsible for gathering information about the virus and how to deal with it in hundred of scenarios.

The others countries remains until this day, yet details of what happened and what became of the provisional laws is a privilege meant for a few high rank officers. The USA fragmented itself in regimes called Provisional Governments, a president figure persisted, however with less power and no longer representing a political wing. With a mandate lasting three years, they need to allied themselves with the Military, Scientific or Industrial party, each with its own beliefs on how to deal with the virus and prevent humans to be extinct, and of course, making sure that the walls remains strong.

A prestige biologist, Katherine Williams sits in the White House, feeding the hope of a vaccine to save the world, whoever the truth doesn't aligned itself with this ideal. The group has the duty of maintaining the hospitals, camps and clinics, while creating ways of improving the new educational system, and worshiping the possibility of a vaccine.

Every night Miyako wonders what happened to the apartment, now laying in a prohibit area of DC, almost all were left behind, even Ren, a teddy bear given by her brother in the girl six year old birthday. On the day the world died, a group of men wearing white tuxedos knocked on the family door, demanding the four to pack it up in essential and leave for the shelter located somewhere in the capital heart, a lot of things were considered useless baggage by the agents, not allowing more that two pair of clothes and shoes, going against the orders, the oldest son sneaked away nail polishes for his sister, storing it all away inside the jacket pockets.

Once upon a time, feed the wishful think that the things left behind would feel alone and abandoned, just like she does. Through all the way to the landing spot, many people were roaming the street, some sick and wandering around, enjoying the last minutes before falling into coma, while others were protesting for a solution, gathering around the military camp protecting the white house, begging to be let inside, the scream mattered not, as none of those outside made it

That night marked the first time she left the secured place for a non medical reason, it felt engulf at some point, as the air itself attempted to crush her lungs, however the safe heaven tagged along, once more, as he promised to do each time. The vision of the round metal vault door closing imprinted itself as an intruder memory, the noise, the staff affirming in a loop that nobody should worry about anything, the smell of smoke and the red light shining, as the door closed to never be opened again, for others present there the sight worked as a reminder of hope and safety, yet for her it mold as a frightened event, locked inside a place with people that controlled the child's life since the first day.

Shelter...A fancy word to be buried inside an underground facility, in the false illusion of safety against everything the outside could throw at it, from atomic bombs to the Black Fog, the idea of holding yourself in an infection free zone, with food, water and light sounds perfect, built inside the biggest military camp in the country, as a warning to the government on who runs the show, although fools believes that the construction happened to create a harmonic relationship with the politicians.

In the middle of the cold and empty metal hallways, a Observatarium takes place, covering several meters of the gigantic room, an enormous and thin screen showing realistic videos of a snowy tundra, as a light snow falls on top of the trees. She's able to witness such landscape through the brother's eyes, again, a promise from long time ago.

Mafuyu serves as her eyes and protector since the girl came into the world, ignoring all else and silently focusing the eyesight so she can enjoy it to the max, a fake nature, yet it brings comfort.

Never allowed to try for friends, as the doctors redeem her immune system too weak to be close to others, so the young men turned into something more that just a brother, a friend, a father figure and someone who wished nothing more that her well being. The two would spend hours playing or watching television, in the beginning he didn't hesitated to believe in the sight story, and when the truth that Yuki never existed came to be, Mafuyu one more time jump to the ``It's okay`` part, talking with their parents and explaining what it meant, for the youngest they share more that blood, someone who took over all of possible roles, the burning feeling irradiating in the lower abdomen fades when she can rest her head on the teen shoulder, sure that nothing out there can bring harm to the siblings.

An imaginary gust of wind blows the Uzume hair, as the elder sibling beside smiles and laughs, revealing to be the one blowing the air, extending the playful moment to the max.

they cares not about what happened in the past or that others misses the old world, as not even the apocalypse could change the family routine, or the parents lack of attention to their children, since the beginning, he remembers the adult overworking themselves to the extreme, leaving the siblings without a guide, Mafuyu felt lost for years, not sure if those two people were his parents or just someone that shares the same blood, when Reira announced another pregnancy, he knew that the same fate waited the infant, a life of loneliness, and to never hear a parent saying ``I love you``, fearing this future, the teen took over the duty of raising a child by himself. Is no secret that the girl considers the brother as a father, showing this trust by only speaking next to him, as she craves the safety and reassurance that comes with the elder Uzume presence, and he never hide this honor that it feels to be someone comfort person.

The father, a charming Chinese men in his late forties approaches. Yi Han stands out thanks to the glorious dark hair brushed in a classic and refined hairstyle, a well chosen dark blue suit and the silk skin, leaving no space to comments about flaws, while the fellow scientists worries about work, the men prioritize the physical appearance over looking clever all the time.

How the men ignores the younger child enkindles rage within Mafuyu, ``A parent should always know where his children are``, yet the youngest replies with silence, non concern to hid the scorn growing towards the men. The siblings carries on their moment, Yi takes that as a defeat, looking over the future of the family, wondering if the methods of raising they are valid, or just a cruel way to treat an eleven year old child, a sensation of shame overcomes the men smooth persona, choosing to step away before any flaw can be shown in front of others.

The father-daughter relationship had been damaged years ago, as Yi Han refused to believed about the sight and her decision of no longer wanting to pretend to be a boy, claiming that such important decision should've been delayed due to insufficient age, blaming Mafuyu influence and the heat of the moment, the lack of support pushed her away from the him, hurt beyond word. With the head of Saga paying for everything, and how the brother hold her hand at every second, Miyako went forward with the new life, going through treatment and last year a surgery to end the circle, mistaking the corporation gesture for kindness, yet the goal strayed from that good, a way to keep the child under their wings and docile, a solution to make sure that she couldn't leave the shelter or abandoned the cause, to enhanced their trust further, the pharmaceutical company developed a tiny device into a specific area of the body, assuring that the technology would avoid the necessity of daily hormones pills. A factor that seal a bound between the girl and the company, seeing the CEO as a hero of some sort, someone that aid in the most dire moment, able to enjoy life as Miyako, a name picked by the brother. The solo demand made by the company happened to be a small thing, cooperation, and nothing more. A contract signed by the child to assist in a project to adapt the sight to soldiers, so they could hijack into infected minds and gain upper hand, despite believing in this supernatural gift, the head scientist cared not to make it a project, using it as a mere mean to an end.

One would think that the end of the world could bring people together, but it didn't, the mother spend most of the days working in the dream of manufacturing a vaccine, or at least something to retard the effect of the virus, while Yi Han makes sure that the shelter geothermal power plant remains in working order. Mafuyu takes the promise to an honorable level, even joining her in classes about electronics, mechanics, medicine and biology, subjects from the new educational system, a way to create a better future, so the new generation can grow knowing the most important lessons instead of dwelling in past history or unnecessary mathematics. Despite finding those five hours boring, she cherishes every second of it, as what follows it in the schedule its never pleasant.

When the experiment time begins, Mafuyu has to leave, not a single test is harmless, each holding their own amount of pain or discomfort. Recalling about yesterday, the scientist attempted to created a theory about how the brain connect itself with the sight, looking for a logical way to explain the ability of seeing through others eyes. A thin and silver needle penetrate through the lower eye until it reached the brain, the whole procedure took place under heavy anesthesia, yet the pain grew harder to withstand afterward, worse that an emotional hollowness, a feeling that shocked through the brain and the nervous system.

However, a worst one exist, The Helmet, or so she calls it, a metal device is introduced on the head, then electrical stimulus are send to the brain, a way to improve her eyes and recover a tiny fraction of the natural sight, it makes the body fake a scenario where each centimter of skin melts, every cell and fiber deteriorates, reaching an astonishing level of fading, only to be wake by the same pain, left with no choice, but to endure it the most brutal five minutes of the day, it happened several times, and it can't seen to get better anytime soon. The shock waves suffering is staggering, yet she judges as a necessary evil, willing to make this sacrifice, blind by manipulation and scared of the chance of Saga sending the family away from the shelter, not willed to put Mafuyu into harm ways, or to sacrifice the parents career.

Using the girl lack of direction and the endless search for a purpose to created a perfect harmony, as Miyako feels like a sheep in a forest full of werewolves, a part of her believes that the suffering can be justify, and the other she deserves the pain coming from those test.

Regardless of the brother encouragement words, remanding how important her life is, the child refuses to see in the same way, seeing herself as a pillar, holding back the corruption from crumbling under the one she loves, willing to continue with the penitence, just for a small glance of a better tomorrow.

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