Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2015 21:55:31 GMT -5
(Retroactive - Two Months Ago)
She'd followed the river at first. Long days along the water's edge, scaling ledges and sliding down moss slick rocks. The water was always on her left.
She'd stop from time to time. Make camp. Lay snares. Some days she ate, and some she didn't. It didn't much matter either way. Fed or starving, it was the same.
At one point there was a bridge. It was littered with cars both ways, four lanes across. She looked in the cars some. She got new socks. There were two unopened water bottles.
Only one demon, a little one, still buckled into the backseat. It's brown curls matted in clumps of rotting flesh, more like gelatin than skin and muscle. As it reached for her, it's arm snagged on broken glass and the skin tore away like wet paper. Cua watched it for a while, contemplative. She'd be like that too one day. Someday soon.
She left it there, just as she'd found it, and crossed the bridge.
She followed the road. She wasn't sure at first which road it was. She'd look at the numbers on the road signs, and then forget what they were half a mile later.
She switched roads a lot. Whatever seemed best.
A hoard stopped her eventually. Spread out as far across the horizon as she could see. She watched them for an hour. They were heading her way. She walked to a barn, the only building she could see, and climbed into the hayloft. She didn't bother to bar the door.
That night, staring at the ceiling, she listened to their footsteps as they swarmed past. The great host of Hell, ambling along around her.
An owl came in through the window and settled on one of the crossbeams. It looked at her, and she looked back, the only two living creatures for miles maybe. Maybe the last two living things in the whole world. It didn't make so much as a peep. It, too, was gone in the morning.
Weeks passed. Or was it months. Cua made no particular effort to hide from death, and yet it never came to collect her. She began to cry again, at nights. And then, she began to wail. She'd scream into her hands, again and again and again. But the demons never came for her.
Eventually, her grief seemed to dry up, as if it had simply exhausted itself. She didn't have to cry or scream. Nothing was bad or good, happy or sad, it just... was.
She saw a group ahead on the road one day. She hid until they'd passed her, then hurried in the opposite direction.
She cut her palm one day, sliding across rocks, trying to cut through a creek. It bled steadily for an hour. She wrapped it, but as the days passed, it still wouldn't heal.
She could remember her sister-in-law chiding her when she'd punctured her foot in October. Keep it clean, take your antibiotics Cua, infection will kill out here...
Antibiotics, she thought, looking at the oozing gash. MaivTooj wanted her to take antibiotics. Infection will kill, her sister-in-law was saying.
Cua nodded her head.
"Right, right," she replied. "I'll take care of it."
She needed to find a pharmacy... She needed to find a map.
There was a green and white road sign up ahead announcing "Mt Vernon 8".
Cua started walking, MaivTooj whispering to her the entire time.
The town was empty, save for the demons. They clumped in lethargic groups, interested, but too slow to keep up. She wandered the Main Street, purusing the sights. Only a few bodies lay in the streets, nearly picked clean by the demons. Luggage was left burst across the pavement. Broken store windows and overturned cars... The usual.
Cua gazed thoughtfully at the bright red CVS sign. It was unlikely. Pharmacy's had been cleared out first, but on the whole the town looked so... quiet. Almost undisturbed, by comparative standards. A few of the pharmacy's windows were busted, but she could still see items on the shelves.
She looked at her hand. Keep it clean, Cua...
She went in.
She'd followed the river at first. Long days along the water's edge, scaling ledges and sliding down moss slick rocks. The water was always on her left.
She'd stop from time to time. Make camp. Lay snares. Some days she ate, and some she didn't. It didn't much matter either way. Fed or starving, it was the same.
At one point there was a bridge. It was littered with cars both ways, four lanes across. She looked in the cars some. She got new socks. There were two unopened water bottles.
Only one demon, a little one, still buckled into the backseat. It's brown curls matted in clumps of rotting flesh, more like gelatin than skin and muscle. As it reached for her, it's arm snagged on broken glass and the skin tore away like wet paper. Cua watched it for a while, contemplative. She'd be like that too one day. Someday soon.
She left it there, just as she'd found it, and crossed the bridge.
She followed the road. She wasn't sure at first which road it was. She'd look at the numbers on the road signs, and then forget what they were half a mile later.
She switched roads a lot. Whatever seemed best.
A hoard stopped her eventually. Spread out as far across the horizon as she could see. She watched them for an hour. They were heading her way. She walked to a barn, the only building she could see, and climbed into the hayloft. She didn't bother to bar the door.
That night, staring at the ceiling, she listened to their footsteps as they swarmed past. The great host of Hell, ambling along around her.
An owl came in through the window and settled on one of the crossbeams. It looked at her, and she looked back, the only two living creatures for miles maybe. Maybe the last two living things in the whole world. It didn't make so much as a peep. It, too, was gone in the morning.
Weeks passed. Or was it months. Cua made no particular effort to hide from death, and yet it never came to collect her. She began to cry again, at nights. And then, she began to wail. She'd scream into her hands, again and again and again. But the demons never came for her.
Eventually, her grief seemed to dry up, as if it had simply exhausted itself. She didn't have to cry or scream. Nothing was bad or good, happy or sad, it just... was.
She saw a group ahead on the road one day. She hid until they'd passed her, then hurried in the opposite direction.
She cut her palm one day, sliding across rocks, trying to cut through a creek. It bled steadily for an hour. She wrapped it, but as the days passed, it still wouldn't heal.
She could remember her sister-in-law chiding her when she'd punctured her foot in October. Keep it clean, take your antibiotics Cua, infection will kill out here...
Antibiotics, she thought, looking at the oozing gash. MaivTooj wanted her to take antibiotics. Infection will kill, her sister-in-law was saying.
Cua nodded her head.
"Right, right," she replied. "I'll take care of it."
She needed to find a pharmacy... She needed to find a map.
There was a green and white road sign up ahead announcing "Mt Vernon 8".
Cua started walking, MaivTooj whispering to her the entire time.
The town was empty, save for the demons. They clumped in lethargic groups, interested, but too slow to keep up. She wandered the Main Street, purusing the sights. Only a few bodies lay in the streets, nearly picked clean by the demons. Luggage was left burst across the pavement. Broken store windows and overturned cars... The usual.
Cua gazed thoughtfully at the bright red CVS sign. It was unlikely. Pharmacy's had been cleared out first, but on the whole the town looked so... quiet. Almost undisturbed, by comparative standards. A few of the pharmacy's windows were busted, but she could still see items on the shelves.
She looked at her hand. Keep it clean, Cua...
She went in.