The Fuckno Wars TFW CH 30 In Darkness, Apart

It connected them, and it separated them.

It caused each their own downfall,

and in the end, their redemption.

Torment can heal.

Sometimes.

A Perfect Day     by The Constellations

IN

DARKNESS

APART

We stood behind the mansion under the red moon.  She paid us no mind.  She looked to the south.

Away from us.

We were ants to her.

Alone.

Our blue friends were gone, and in their absence a cold frost covered the remnants of our footprints in the dark.

I looked over the rest of the horizon and all of the lights in the huge cityscape were gone.

And yet, a soft orange glow flickered here and there.

I helped Big Bryan get to his feet, and he looked over the bodies of them Purple Robes.

He whispered, “Who the fuck are those bastards anyways?”

I whispered back, although there was no need to do so.  “Those are the bad guys.”

Bryan rubbed his jaw and looked me right in the eyes.  He said, “Well, yeah, Will.  No shit.  But who are they?”

I had to respect him at that moment.  He’d just run back and defended us, no questions asked. 

Risked his life.

Without knowing why.

Or, perhaps he knew something that I didn’t.  Maybe he had a clue about things that I was only beginning to understand.

Looking back, it is obvious that he held a loyalty to me and our friends that I didn’t even hold for myself.

Huh.

I said, “Bryan.  Welcome back.  We missed you.”

And then he got all mushy and gave me a bear hug.  Blecch.  Bastard was turning soft.  Blecch.

Tellesco felt a shiver in his bones.  The image of a blue face seared across his vision for  a brief moment, and then there was only the afterimage.  It hung in the air before him like a ghost.

It was the face of his beloved, his friend Sean.

Sean looked different in the image.  He had a weird nose stuck on his face, and his eyes seemed hollow.   But it was him.

There was something else, however.

It was an insatiable hunger that was left behind as the image dissipated.

It was the hunger for human flesh.

Tellesco felt like he was going to vomit.  That feeling ebbed as the image did.

He searched the image for clues, as it faded away.

Why had he seen this?  Was Sean in trouble?

Sweet Sour    by Band Of Skulls

Seen’s belly rumbled.  He felt like he had not eaten in a week. The lights in the city were out, all of them.  A huge power surge had blown all of the other power stations out, and it had been so strong, it had blown out thousands of transformers and battery packs for the streetlights.

Only the lights from buildings that contained operable electrical generators emitted light, as well as a few remaining traffic lights far and wide.

These glowed and blinked like tiny stars, lost in the far off reaches of eternity.

There were other lights, however, and these were from the vehicles that continued to make their way to their homes, or to the workplaces of those who were called to attention in order to restore power and order.

And to rescue.

Seen searched for a place that might offer food and rest, in peace.

He thought of a menu.

It would have ham and eggs, maybe waffles, maybe an omelet with toes and fingers in it, and perhaps a nice tall glass of hot human blood?

The lights ahead flashed blue in the windshield.

(The sound of the keys hitting the floor echoed down the hallway)

The dust on the windshield blurred the blue lights and he blinked

(A mutter of a swear, echoing across walls that held no family pictures)

The blue lights flashed in his eyes as they grew brighter

(There were tiny holes in the walls where the pictures once hung, and larger ones beneath them where the pictures had been punched through)

The lights flashed in his eyes now, off-on. Off-on.  Off-On.  OFF-ON.  OFFONOFFON

(A door opened, squeaking from hinges forgotten, ignored, neglected, abused)

The sirens passed Seen and he swung off the road and slammed his brakes.

His heart pounded.  He could hear the rush of each beat in his ears, and his head hurt with each throb.

Hunger called from his belly, but in the black space before him, he could see only one image.

The afterimage of the flashing blue lights, burned upon his retinas, was this;

A small boy in a bed, unprotected, with a large shadow looming over him. 

It had claws.

He looked down at his hands.

They were covered with the skins of a dead man.

Sean/Seen cowered back from the atrocities he had committed.

His hands looked like feral claws.

What had he done? 

What was he doing?

He felt the world slip away, blue light in the vast eternity of black,

Out

out

out,

…tiny light.

The Walkin Seen climbed back into the driver seat.

He said, "It is quite apparent that you need to keep still."





+   +   +   +   +   +   +


"Hello, this is Trish Tocker for KFUK-TV, which is now being aired on the excellent all-news CUN cable channel.  Unfortunately, no one in our lovely city of Fuckno will be able to see this news report.

Allegedly, the power has gone out.  Only places that have electrical generators have power, such as our KFUK Television transmitter, and the van that feeds my microphone.

Oh, wait, hello!  Excuse me sir, are you a resident of this neighborhood?"


(Soft murmur of words off screen.)


"Sir, what do you mean by that?"


(Brightly-lit face of our friend Seen appears on screen, and then screams of fright and also laughter occur...)

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

Move Love   by Robert Glasper