Buried in the wreckage of a Compound meant to imprison her, Faine awakens a shell of her former self. With no memories and a growing taste for revenge, she is given the ultimate decision.
She must save the city, or herself.
Round One 》✅️ 2k 》✅️
R...
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A handsome young man sat on a leather couch, his body wrapped in form fitting militia gear with leather belts holding various weapons in place. He sat casually with one leg thrown over another, waiting.
Upon closer inspection, this uniform was made thick, with sewn in leather pads and seams.
When she stepped into the room, he paused.
Amber eyes lifted from a torn newspaper, a smirk playing over his lips.
Faine felt her heart electrify, pounding in her chest.
"Hey, little bird," he said. "You ready to fly?"
Waking, Faine pushed herself upright immediately. Her chest was tight, her breathing coming out in deep pants as she peered around the room.
No one was there, the curtains still drawn tight.
The sun had risen and fallen twice now, a full day of large ominous words filling her ears. They'd given her enough medication to make the pain stop, but the nightmares still consumed her.
She'd seen those eyes before. In the dream it had felt as if she'd stared into them a million times. Yet now they felt so foreign, estranged from her.
Faine pulled the blankets up again, oddly cold in the large, empty room. The shadows were active now, whispering amongst themselves.
This was the fifth dream.
Those before had been twisted and cruel, full of screaming and violence.
Faine had seen images of the man Karras deemed mad, the man whose hair was a slicked salt and pepper, flopping outward as he yanked up that awful overcoat. She heard his voice curling through her thoughts, purring obscene monstrosities.
Find Trace, those voices had said.
As if his name held some kind of meaning.
The only thing Faine really knew was the throbbing in her skull, radiating pain down her spine in bursts of heat. She'd barely spoken more than five words yesterday, leaning heavily on her nurse to know how to meet her physical needs.
"More nightmares?" Karras asked, manifesting at the edge of her bed.
She preferred this dimensional silhouette to the strange talking shadow traveling along the walls.
He braced his hands on the foot of the bed while she stared at him, still blinking the sleep out of her eyes. No. She wouldn't call her last experience a nightmare. It felt warm and pleasant. Some piece of that tenderness extending towards the shadow of a man in front of her.
A distant feeling tugged in her chest, encouraging her to reach out to him.
Faine wondered if her fingers would slip straight through his frame or if they might actually land. Or if these feelings were another illusion, if they were even real at all. Karras could be the man who tormented her, haunting her one last time.
