Chapter 8 Night Without End (2/2)

It made her different from her several dozens of sisters. And anything that made them different would make them stand out which could be both good and bad. There was a lot of competition among them and as they all looked rather similar, differences were often times more noticed than similarities.

There was one more part of her legend though, one that was just as important as the legend of her expressionless face.

When she smiled, it meant that she had found something that interested her and whatever that thing was, it had only two choices.

They could either submit to her or be destroyed by her. She never failed to do so. No matter what choice was made, the object of her attention would suffer unimaginably.

He didn't want to think about this anymore and instead, chose to stand and following after the princess. In less than a breath of time, everyone had vanished. It was eerily quiet once again in the large abandoned lot.

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Laz had a long dream, one in which the silhouette of the dangerously beautiful woman would appear many times. He could not help but be afraid, even in his dreams.

He didn't know where he was, or what was happening, but when he woke up, he felt the searing pain in his chest. It was like getting stabbed with a knife and having it wiggled around while still inside. His world was nothing but the pain. He knew that he would die if he didn't move. So he tried to focus on that.

Time seemed to stand still as the waves of burning pain hit him over and over again. He wasn't far from home in the first place, but he had no idea how he would get there. There was no one to call even if he had his phone. He was going home to no one either. It was this loneliness that brought him out of the madness the pain put him through.

If he didn't do it, if he couldn't do it, he would die.

Standing up took more strength than he had to give, but he was able to do it. Making his way one step at a time, foot fall by foot fall. Every second took forever. When he could no longer stay upright, he fell forward and used his hands to break the fall. The welcomed feel of the cement under his fingers let him know that he had reached the stairs.

If he was able to make it up these, he would at least be able to die at home.

Crawling up stair by stair, he pulled his broken and lifeless body towards his front door. He knew that since it was late, his grandpa wouldn't be awake and won't wake up until morning. He knew he couldn't wait in the cold that long. With the grace of a drunk zombie, he made it to the top of the stairs, reached in the old iron mailbox to grab his key and was able to unlock the door.

His body gave out finally once he made it inside and closed the door. The last thought that went through his head was he had never been so glad to see the horrible pink shag.