**********unedited so there may be a few mistakes**********

The sounds of footsteps echo down the ally mixed with my own erratic breaths. I gasp for air as I push my body forward, running only on adrenaline. The grey walls seem to enclose on me rising impossibly high above my head. The air is thick and shrouded with shadows that wisp whispering back and forth. I shake my head to clear the tingling brushes and duck down another alleyway. The further down I go the darker it gets and the grey walls soon fade into the cluttered air. I stop and crouch next to the wall trying to catch my breath. The footsteps seem to have slowed, searching in the dark alley. I adjust the mask on my face and set the view setting to its brightest, but the light seems to disappear into the floating darkness. I stand and feel along the wall and grasp a thick, rough vine. It feels like sandpaper and it throbs with life, swelling at my touch.

 I haul myself up until my feet find purchase with vegetation. As quickly as I can I climb the tangle of vines, careful not to touch the sprouting “flowers”. It’s harder since my vision is limited, but their vibrant pink color and large size help me locate them. I manage to scrape the side of my forearm just as I’m reaching a side roof, but only so that the tiny miniscule spikes that make up the “flower”, draw blood. I need to remind myself to get it treated as soon as I get out of this little predicament. Each spike holds a very small, but very lethal amount of poison in it. Anytime it comes in contact with something the spikes’ sensor releases the poison as a defense mechanism. There’s absolutely no pain on contact, but the after effects cause the victim to hallucinate before they go crazy thinking they need to get the little “bugs” out of their skin. They always wind up ripping themselves apart in a flurry of insanity.

My feet land softly as I drop from the side roof to the balcony underneath. The balcony is covered in gear and various mechanical parts. There are no windows and the only doors are boarded shut. Most of the buildings in the 9^th Ward are in the same abandoned state. I pick my way through the junk and successfully reach the other end. I peek over the edge and listen quietly. Below I can hear murmured voices and scampering footsteps. I smirk a little; my pursuers seem to have no idea where I went. I wait until I can’t hear them at all before jumping across to another abandoned balcony and count it as my win.

As I’m passing through multiple piles of junk, I pick up a few useful parts here and there.  Later I’ll use them to fix up old machines or to patch new ones. Technically it’s illegal, but The Rye has all sorts of ridiculous laws. I don’t bother with them anymore and sell amped up versions of government issued mechanics. I’ve figured out a way to breech their firewall to access the old Internet and sell different devices with the program installed. Most of my customers are pretty sketchy, but I run a very strict don’t ask don’t tell business. The only problem with selling these is that they got pretty popular and of course people can’t keep their mouths shut, so naturally it wasn’t long before Red Agents came knocking on the door.

Red Agents aren’t my only problem though. The guys who were just chasing me are a whole other deal. Down in the 9^th Ward people abide a different set of laws, those of which I have broken many. It seems like laws just really aren’t meant for me, but its not as though I don’t have good reasons for breaking certain laws. People just don’t understand my reasons and I can’t really expect them to. Everyone I knew told me that I was crazy, that I was never really right after I came out of a coma, but I know better now. Before I had forgotten. I forgot about everything, my past life, Minseok, the entity, everything. Actually the more I grow older, the more I’m convinced that there was no before my “coma”. The entity must have just set me down smack in the middle of a new life.

Quietly I drop back down to the ground a couple of blocks from where I climbed up. Here the shadows aren’t prevalent, but the air does contain lazily floating miniature pods. I instinctively secure my mask before walking out among them. These pods are all connected to some huge complex mainframe that only certain people are able to access. Those certain people used to be the government, but after all the intercity wars, the government gave up on the 9^th Ward and withdrew. They claim it as ‘forsaken’ territory. No one comes here willingly, or at least no one but me. Even though the only people I had were a small group of friends in the 5^th Ward, I left them behind so that I can freely search for Minseok.

It’s been ten years since I awoke from my “coma”. I made sure to write down everything I remembered as soon as I woke up. I keep it in a journal that I add details too. There are still some missing pieces, but I think if I manage to find Minseok, everything will come together.

Quickly, I sprint across streets and down back alleys using “tunnels” to get back to my base. It’s not smart to stroll the streets here and you don’t want to be away from your claimed base for too long. Here, its all about territory and power, dipping into a previous “gang culture” that used to be more common in society. The best way to survive and be mobile is to know the grid. The 9^th Ward, like every other Ward, has a pattern to it. If you can get the right maps, you can gain access to an underground grid riddled with “tunnels”. These “tunnels” aren’t actual tunnels, but they are passageways blocked by several locked and coded doors.

Getting the maps is easy; the hard part is hacking into the grid to gain access to the tunnels. It took me almost a week to do it. Not only did I have to get past the government walls, I also had to get past the Kings’ walls. The Kings are a group of bosses in the 9^th Ward. No one I know has ever seen them, but they control the entire area. We only ever hear from them through messages sent to everyone’s electrical devices. Even homemade devices I’ve made pick up on whatever service they’re sending the messages through. Its one of the mysterious I’ve yet to uncover here, but if this service is enough to override the governments, I’m not sure its something I want to get into to.

~*~

Above me stands an old office building weathered grey with traces of blue from previous paintings. All the bottom floors’ doors and windows are either blocked off or locked up with coded metal. I walk up to a small door hidden at the back and open a panel right of it. Old and new wires twist and tangle together connecting to a little rectangular box. I insert a drive to override the locks and the door clicks open.

I don’t bother with the first ten floors, instead skipping over them using the stairs. Anyone can see from outside that the windows turned black, and well everything was boarded up for a reason. I’m not sure of what exactly is in those floors, but it’s likely that Shadows have infested the stale air. Stagnant Shadows are dangerous because the less mobile they are, the more likely their particles will collate until the Shadow is something tangible. The Shadows outside survive in the air and wind, thriving on constant motion, but if the air they reside in is still, they adapt.

No one is sure when they came or how, but the Shadows have been around since I can remember and before that. Some speculate that the bacteria particles in the air learned to adapt to the constant electrical waves and somehow molded with them. All we really know is that breathing them in can cause disease and sickness. Scientists try to collect the particles but for some reason they can never get a clear, live sample. No one has risked getting a Stagnant Shadow. With the possibility that they may not be able to obtain a sample and the definite risk of being attacked, scientists decided that as long as they are keeping them away from the general population, things would be all right.

On the door leading to the eleventh floor there’s a coded lock with a keypad. Despite it being a new addition, it looks older than the door. The piece is considered retro now, but it was very common about 40 or so years ago. I use it because the device works with wires and hard disks instead of Wi-Fi. I can use a security system completely separate from the Air. That way no one can break in, unless they just so happen to be an expert in the field of retro devices, which is very unlikely. So far I’m one of three people I’ve heard about who know how to operate old devices that run on disks and wires.

Once inside, I make my way to the end of a long hallway and open another locked door (just in case) to my workshop. This is where the magic happens. I dump the things I collected earlier off in a very organized pile. I consider working for a bit, but then my stomach growls. I check the time. 3:04 p.m. I haven’t eaten since early this morning, due to difficult situations with a “costumer”. I close and lock the door and head down another hallway to my right. This leads to a big open space that doubles as both a kitchen and living room, although I can’t really call it either. The “kitchen” is more or less a makeshift stove, refrigerator/icebox, and a counter piled with various utensils. Some I know how to use and others I don’t even know the name of. The “living room” is more like a wide-open space with a few mismatching couches and armchairs, some tables I found in a junkyard, and several old monitors and TVs. Basically I live amongst the junk I hoard, as some people would say. Personally I like to refer to it as ‘collecting’ or ‘a hobby’.

I open box sitting on the counter and pull out a package blindly. I don’t exactly get quality food, so I never really care about what I’m eating. Its packaged noodles complete with vegetables and bits of “meat”, real meat is more of a delicacy here. I quickly prepare and eat the small meal. I have another meeting later tonight and I haven’t even finished the project, but it’s not like it’ll take me long to finish so I’m not worried and take my time.

~*~

Its dark out by the time I leave. The meeting is in about an hour and the drop off is on the other side of my district. I wear a different mask this time; I never wear the same mask twice in a row on the same day for obvious reasons. Surviving is the number one priority here and to survive, one has to be smart. Lucky for me I’m pretty genius. Occasionally I come across some poor soul who thought they could survive here, half-dead in an alley, mask stolen, and doing their best to crawl to safety. It’s a sad sight, but there’s nothing you can do to save them. I remember in the very beginning I tried, foolishly. I drug back one guy all the way to my base and tried to save him, bur of course he didn’t make it, in fact his lungs were harboring Shadows and they ate up his entire body and completely infested my base. That was the first base I had and I learned after that that bases were precious and should be protected at all cost. Also, I learned to stop trying to help everyone.

When I lost my first base, I also lost everything I had stored there, including the progress I made looking for Minseok. That was the hardest hit for me because I was close. I had a eye witness spotting of someone who fit his description, but the name of that person and the place I was supposed to meet them, was lost. It may be selfish, but I couldn’t ever risk something like that again so I turned my back on anything that didn’t benefit me or my search for Minseok. So far, I haven’t been able to find the person again, but I know for sure that Minseok is in this district. Now, all I have to do is find him, but to do that I need more money hence the increasing number of deals.

The Shadows begin to clear as I get closer to the drop off spot. Anxiety rises, bubbling in my stomach. There’s always the possibility of getting caught, especially here being so close to the district King’s designated territory. Just a few more blocks and I’ll make it there. I’m a bit over the meeting time, but no one expects me to be on time anyways. I want to make sure that they arrive before I do, to be safe; there are way too many stories of ambush to be comfortable with. I sneak along the opposite alleyway, scoping out the spot. Its dark though, so I can’t see much, but the alley has no windows or doors for a surprise pop up and I don’t see anyone around so I continue on. I turn on the brightness to my mask and the dark alleyway is dully illuminated. Too much bright light draws attention and that is exactly what I don’t want.

As I get closer, a bad feeling crawls up my spine and when I see the dark, sticky liquid on the ground I know why. Quickly, I duck behind an old stack of crates and scan my surroundings, but again I don’t see anyone. I move to inspect the body, using a gloved hand to turn the head. I don’t recognize the face.  The person I was supposed to meet with said that I could recognize him by the tattoo on his neck; this person doesn’t have a tattoo. As I look closer I realize that this person is just a kid. He looks pretty tall and built, but his youth shows in his face. I feel a small tug on my heart. It’s a shame that someone so young had to die like this in an alley too. I figure that he must have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but then that means I too am in the wrong place. The problem with that is that this is my meeting place.

There are several different things that could have happened, but none of them work in my favor. One, someone thought he was my customer and killed him. Two, someone thought that he was me and killed him. Three, my customer thought he was me and killed him. Four, my customer is a killer and/or a psychopath. Five, this has all been a setup. There’s silence around me and I can hear my heart beating erratically. This situation is definitely not good. Not good at all, in any way. Cautiously, I stand and back up to the wall, pressing myself against it. I wait for a few minutes, straining to hear anything at all, before dashing out of the alley.

            , , , , , , is all I can think. I know I’m done for when shadowy figures move in front of me. I’m too close to stop or turn around, although I still try. My feet skid on the cement as I try to direct my body in the opposite direction, but then I feel hands grab the back of my hoodie and I’m being pulled down hard. My body flies backwards and I slam down on the solid ground, effectively knocking the wind out of me. As I struggle to breathe, one of the figures rips off my mask. I curse internally. This is bad, like really, really bad. If my face is seen, then they can definitely track me, that is, if I even manage to escape.

Not soon enough, my breath returns to me and I’m being hauled up on my feet. There are several people yelling all at once at me, asking me questions like ‘Who are you?’, ‘What’s your name?’, and ‘Do you even know what you just did?’. I, in fact, do not know what I did to deserve such a greeting, but as far as my options go, I’m going to guess that number five is the correct theory. This has most likely been a setup. I’m not exactly surprised, but I definitely should have been more prepared for something like this. I don’t who the dead kid was, but it seems like he was someone important and now I’m in even more trouble than I normally am.

I’m being roughly pushed and pulled by four guys who occasionally talk into their headpieces to, who I’m assuming to be, their boss. They are dressed in all black with simple black, full-faced masks. The four walk on either side of me in twos. I have a clear shot both ahead and behind me, but the possibility that they can grab me before I make it out the square is pretty high. I need some sort of distraction. My eyes flit back and forth, doing my best to see anything the dark. Soon the clouds move and reveal the dull moon shedding light on the black shapes. It seems that my luck hasn’t run out yet because just ahead is one of my main tunnels. Earlier they frisked me, confiscating the product I was planning to sell,  but I keep all the important stuff in the lining of my clothes, including the card that unlocks the upcoming tunnel.

Since the four didn’t bother tying my hands up or anything (probably thought I wasn’t enough of a risk), I discretely run my hand up the interior of my hoodie and claps onto the card, pulling it out and hiding it in my sleeve. Now the hard part is going to be getting away from these guys long enough to into the tunnel. I slow my pace down considerably but gradually. The door is about a sprint away now, straight ahead, but doing that would practically ensure my recapture. I definitely cannot underestimate these guys or it can end badly for me.

An idea strikes me and I begin to move all the things lined into my hoodie to my pants pockets. Lucky for me, my pockets are pretty deep. No one is really looking at me so I get this done pretty quickly and then I pull my arms out of my sleeves and to my chest. I lag a bit more until I’m right in between the two guys at the back. As opposed to before, they aren’t as close to me so there’s some space I can work with. I take in a deep breath, count to three and then, all at once I crouch, spin around, and push my body off with the heels of my feet in the opposite direction that we were walking. My act is quick, but so are their reactions. On my left, I feel someone’s fingers brush the back of my hoodie just barely when I take off, but the one on my right manages to grab a sleeve while I’m running. Prepared, I swiftly twist and duck, and the hoodie slides off without a problem. My flight is only held up a few seconds, but I hastily regain it.

My breath is coming quick and uneven as I try my best to catch a rhythm. In the nose and out the mouth, in the nose out the mouth. It begins to regulate and I take a sharp right down a small street, another right down an alley, up a fire escape, and over a balcony before I drop back to a main street that leads straight to the door. The four are still chasing me, but I lost them for a bit when I went up the fire escape so, even though its only a little, I have time to in the door before they catch up to me. I slow when I get close enough and skid to a stop before hurriedly pulling out the card, scanning it, and opening the door. Just as I slam it shut, I hear several thumps indicating that the others reached the door. I don’t stick around long enough to know if they ever get it open, instead I keep running, taking detours just in case, and sneak back into my base. Once there, I plop down right in front of the door, dragging myself to my makeshift bedroom, and laying there until I fall asleep.

~*~

It’s been a couple of days since the incident and I decided to go out only on absolute necessity which, so far, has been not at all. The problem now is that a friend of mine finally got ahold of the pieces I need to complete a Radio. I’ve been working on it for months and with it I can pick up all the airwaves and basically listen in on any conversation taking place in the Air. It’ll be an incredibly useful and convenient thing to have and will probably even help me find Minseok. Of course what I’m doing is completely illegal, so getting the parts to make it hasn’t been easy and its not like I can ask him to meet me here. He’s pretty high up on the wanted list so coming as far as he is, is more than I can ask for. In short, I have no choice but to leave my base to go meet him.

I pull out a mask from an old dusty box that I haven’t used in forever. It was one of the first ones that I made, but it only lasted a few months before the light and respiratory parts broke. I fixed the respiratory part, but didn’t bother with anything else because, by that time, I had already started on a new one. The mask is of a more simple, full-faced design, which I can admit is not very good, but the soft material stretches and clings surprisingly comfortable on my face. I dress in all black, unusual of my normal appearance for fear of the risk of being caught again. Once I prepared myself the best I could, I headed out.

As usual, the streets around my base are pretty empty and I quickly navigate my way through the grid. I live on the far side of Xo District, so I agreed to meet halfway into the next district, Vy, where my friend lives. The streets become narrower as I enter Vy and crumbled masses clutter the city. Before the 9^th Ward was forsaken, Vy was the main capital. When things got bad, the higher ups thought to eradicate Vy to gain back control. Many buildings were destroyed and debris covered the streets and alleys. No one ever really bothered to clean anything up after the district was destroyed, so if I’m looking for something rare, I can usually count on Vy to have it.

I make it to the meeting place exactly at the scheduled time. The spot is a small underground tunnel (an actual tunnel) that is collapsed in on two sides. There’s only one entrance that is hidden unless you know where to look; I glance around quickly before pushing through the door and dropping into the tunnel. Light vanishes into complete darkness as the door falls shut. I wait and listen for sounds of movement. Unlike me, my friend likes to be early; he is usually waiting for me by the time I arrive. A dim light flickers on, softly illuminating a box and a portion of a figure.

The two of us have never seen each other’s faces, nor have we heard the other’s voice. It’s safer this way, and this way, no one can get attached. Friendship is a rare and dangerous thing here. We call each other ‘friend’ only for the convenience we provide. These are the only ‘friends’ that exist in the 9^th Ward.

I hold out a card as I step forward, this is this way we ID each other, and he does the same. In the faint light, we examine and confirm the cards and without words we exchange hands. The payment on my part is never much, which I have never understood, but I’m not one to question fortune. As soon as the exchange is done, he takes his leave, the long tattered cloak fluttering as he hauls himself up and out of the tunnel door. There have been many times in which I have wondered about him; I guess I can’t help my curiosity, but I know I can never act on it. He, even through typed words on a screen, seems very reserved and private. Even if I think a connection is worth the risk, I know that he would be totally against it and might even cut off from me completely. I dare not jeopardize such an important convenience.

~*~

The day has drooped into evening by the time I make it back to my base. On my way there I come across the first of the nightcrawlers, as I call them. I’m never really sure of what they do, but it’s always the same people and they always look the same: sullen, sunken faces, cloudy eyes, they never wear full masks, just the respiratory parts. They don’t seem to have a base, but they are always in the same places, like they follow a certain permanent routine every night. I brush pass them, but they don’t respond, they never do.  When I first came here I was very curious about them; I even followed one around every night for a week, but it was like she didn’t even notice me. I never found out where she would come from every evening, but she would always go to the same places and take the same path. I never saw her interact with anyone or speak, even to herself. It was so strange that I decided to make contact with her myself, but when I tried, she just stared blankly ahead like I didn’t exist. After that, I just left it alone.

For some reason I take my time walking up the stairs. I almost feel on edge, but I don’t know why. There’s this sense of foreboding and uneasiness that’s creeping its way up my spine. I try to shake it off and clear my head, quickening my ascent up the staircase. The feeling only grows when I reach my floor. My hand wavers to open it. There’s no way that someone could be in here. It just can’t be possible.  I’ve taken every precaution and have had contact with no one near my base. My mind flashes back to the night I was captured, but even in that situation, I made sure that I the customer and I had no ties and there’s no way the four guys could have followed me back. I would have noticed. Furthermore, my devices are secure; I make sure every day that no one can trace my activity. The only way someone could, is if they too were an expert in retro devices, and the only ones I’ve heard about live in entirely different Wards.

Over the years I have learned to trust my instincts, and while I’m fairly certain that no one has broken into my base, I proceed with caution. The door clicks open and I push it in slowly, not making a sound. The entryway is still, silent, and dark like always. I softly shut the door, creep along the wall to the edge, and peek over the corner. Again, it looks the same; there’s not a thing out of place. I begin to feel stupid sneaking along in my own base, but the unease refuses to go away. I start with the closest rooms and begin to inspect just to make sure. The first couple of rooms are locked and don’t seem to be disturbed. I pick up an old antique pistol that I restored and continue further into the floor.

There’s no one here. I’ve covered the floor and all the important places, but everything is just as I left it. I’m beginning to think that I’m becoming one of those paranoid shut-ins. I rest my arms, but keep a grip on the pistol. I’m about to go to the kitchen when I realize that I was so worried about my work and base being raided that I forgot to check my bedroom. Although I call it my bedroom, I hardly sleep there and its pretty much the most barren and least used room on this whole floor. The door is slightly ajar and, if I’m being honest, I’m not exactly sure whether I closed the door or not. With a palm flat against the door, I gently push against it.

Some time ago, I found this old throne-like chair. It was amongst the debris of a crumbling building near-by that I was rummaging through. The brown leather was torn and the brass structure tarnished and dented, but it was just so different that I couldn’t help but to take it back with me. I remember working on it for three days straight, gathering supplies and restoring it back to new. Getting the leather and brass was the hardest part, but once I got those, I worked endlessly until I was satisfied. I can remember sitting back and admiring it when it was finished and in my mind’s eye I could see Minseok sat upon it. Somehow the large chair didn’t overshadow his small body; instead it seemed to fit him perfectly. It was some time ago now and I guess I came to forget about it with everything else that began to occupy on my mind.

When I open the door fully, I think I’ve been transported back in time, because again I’m seeing Minseok sat upon the chair I so diligently worked on. And it fits him, just like I thought it would. The dusty black of his clothes contrast nicely to the light leather of the chair and brings out the paleness of his skin. He’s flawless from the soft spikes his deep brown hair to the tips of his shiny black boots. I blink a couple of times to clear my head, but yet he remains. He moves and brings his hands to clasp in front of his face and rests his chin against them. When he smiles, it seems wrong, different from what I know, from what I’ve imagined to know.

“Your chair….I really like it.”

My breath seems to get stuck in my throat and my grip loosens until I’m not longer grasping anything at all. A feeling of numbness buzzing throughout my body. There’s no way this is real and yet… his voice is so clear and so real. I can feel my heart beat quicken an I think maybe my knees will go out, because he’s just so beautiful and he’s here, really here, right in front of me.

“…Minseok?” My voice comes out soft, almost like a whisper. I’m afraid if I speak too loud, he’ll disappear.

A look of confusion and mild surprise crosses his face, but its quickly gone and he stands. “Xiumin, actually, one and only guard of the King. Or well, I used to be.”

Xiumin? No, that’s not right. It’s Minseok and I know it’s him; I can feel that it’s him; like my entire life has lead up to this moment and I know that it’s him. Everything is the same: his voice, his face, his body, his just everything.

Minseok frowns. “You know, I have no idea how you got away from those guys the other night, you seem slow. In fact, I could’ve killed you already.”

He says the latter part almost as an afterthought and the alarms start to go off. This pulls me from my trance, but instead of putting up a defense, I step closer.  “How are you here?”

A smirk graces his lips. “It wasn’t all that hard, I’ve always been interested in this type of stuff.”

Part of me is happy that we share an interest, but another part is wary. He’s dangerous. Like he said, he could have already killed me and even though this is my base, there’s no telling how long he’s been here and I might not have the upper hand. That being said, I’m standing between him and the only exit to this room.

Minseok notices the change in my attitude and laughs. “Are you finally aware of the situation?” he says, his tone dripping into amusement.

I reflect his smile, but one of uncertainty. I’m happy that I’ve finally found him, but this isn’t the Minseok I thought I would meet. I guess I thought he would be like he used to be, or how I remembered him to be. This Minseok, there’s sadness and anger in his eyes and his eyes are looking at me.

“Or do you still not get it?” Minseok shakes his head and taps on the arm of the chair. “Everything traces back to you, you know it right? That night you ran from the murdered body of a boy, I was there. We caught your “customer” and well, he’s dead now. I just thought that it’d be unfair for him to die alone without his friend there with him.” He pulls a ling sleek handgun from his jacket, all the pieces whirring and clicking to life.

I hold my hands up in surrender and shock. “No, no, you’ve got it wrong! I promise I had nothing to do with that!” My mind is going into survival mode and I want to make an escape or fight, but I also don’t want to let Minseok go.

Minseok nods his head. “Very convincing argument you have, but unfortunately I just don’t believe you. You see, the reason I’m not longer apart of the guard is because I left to protect my brother. I eventually got a small group on my own, including my brother, and we lived well. We lived quietly. Of course that didn’t last long and I found out that my brother got into some trouble with a dealer. Something about not paying for his installments and such, but nothing unfixable. I’ve been keeping a close eye on him since then, only to find him dead in an alley, The same alley, mind you, that a certain dealer and “customer” were to be meeting. “

My mind races as I really grasp what Minseok is talking about. He really thinks that I had something to do with the murder of his brother and honestly I don’t think there’s much I can do to convince him otherwise. “Wait, please, honestly this is just a coincidence and complete misunderstanding. I don’t know anything about that customer. I really was just there for a transaction, if he did kill your brother I had nothing to do with it!” I really can’t believe this is happening. The whole situation is just really weird and ed up and worst of all, I don’t know how to prove myself.

“There’s nothing to prove that you did or didn’t have something to do with it, other than your connection to the murderer and you being there at the scene. Of course, this could all be some kind of set up, but then again, who am I to take chances?” Minseok casually shrugs, gun pointed at my head. “Its more of a policy than anything, really. Besides, you have a really nice base, nice location too.” Then he smiles and it seems so out of place. That radiant smile full of happiness appearing beneath cold eyes seems almost real.

I subconsciously take a step back. Running now would probably not go over so well and fighting, well he has the upper hand. I glance at the pistol lying on the floor near the door. There could be a chance…

“Go ahead and try it,” He says, “Honestly, please, because this is really so boring. I was expecting a little more fun out of you and you disappointed me. At least do something.”

I really want to wake up now. The full blunt force of the situation hits me. This is it. I’m going to die here and ironically, by the hands of the one person I’m here for. All my life has been a series of broken memories and with those memories, emotions from the time they were made. I can remember meeting him for the very first time and seeing how lovely he was. I still remember the feeling of absolute desolation when the car flipped over the side of the bridge. I thought that if I found him, I could make more memories to override the sad ones. I thought that I could finally be together with him, even if it’s in a life like this.

I could feel the prickling burn of tears at the corners of my eyes. An immense sorrow draped itself over me; he really doesn’t recognize me at all. There’s nothing there for him like there is for me. To him, I’m just another body taking up space. No one, I’m no one to him.

Minseok tsked. “You just gave up, how pathetic.”

I barely have time to look up before a split second of pain erupts through my skull and blackness engulfs me.

Too soon

Wasn’t it all too soon?

I never had the chance to make him fall in love

I never had a chance

I'm back to writing again whoooo

So I haven't really edited this so there's probably some mistakes but I'm going to eventually go back to edit

I really just wanted to finall get this chapter out and wow was it hard

I think I changed this story two or three times before I finally got something I was satisfied with

I have an outline for universes and general story lines, but that's it and I unexpectedly had a hard time for a story in this type of futuristic-y world

But alas I have conquered \(^o^)/

The stories are going to have varied lengths, some may be pretty short just depending on how/when death comes

Also nothing is constant -so the way Luhan dies won't be the same in every universe (i.e. dying with Minseok like he did in the first chapter) 

I just want to be clear so no one gets confused by the continuity of these stories.