The smoke was whirling around her head, choking her, and she could feel pain itself manifesting into her skin. It hurt worse than when she'd gotten her tattoos, than when she'd broken her arm, than anything she ever felt before- the inside of her throat was scorched, burned, and the flames devoured her alive. She could hear voices, aways off, calling her name, could hear his voice above all the others, and she tried to move towards them, but she couldn't. None of her limbs were cooperating, and the pain was so unbearable she wished Death would just come already, and take her away. The voices grew fainter, even as she tried to cling to Erik's above the others, and she felt herself falling downwards, twitching spastically, hitting a floor as hot as Hell itself. The flames chewed at her, scraping away every last inch of her that she could feel, and suddenly there was a darkness- cool, dark, and sweet, descending on her with open arms. She let herself be enveloped without a fight- anything but that pain. The darkness swirled around her, and it was all she could see or feel or hear, and suddenly she realized that she didn't want it anymore, she wanted the pain, because the voices had faded away, and she made to kick out, but there was nothing, and she-
Reed shook her head violently, driving the memory from her mind. Her dreadlocks- forming what once jokingly called the lion's mane, her hair bigger than her head- bounced around her shoulders, tied up with the dark red scarf she'd used since she had gotten her hair done this way. Reliving her death was something best left unthought of.
The rain fell steadily, thunder and lightning cracking the sky and sending all the people scurrying for shelter. Leaning against a crosswalk sign and watching a busy intersection, Reed made no move to escape the rain, even as it soaked through her dust colored tank top and baggy black cargo shorts. Her feet were, oddly enough, bare, and her assorted tattoos were easily visible, including the more recent Gothic cross across her abdomen, where her tank top was riding up slightly. It was funny- getting a tattoo of a cross after she was dead. It hadn't hurt at all; not that she'd expected it would, but it was a show of religion and faith that she had never actually had, anyway. Maybe Andras had advised her to get it, she thought, digging in one of the pockets of her shorts for a soggy pack of cigarettes. As much as she despised the demon prince who had enslaved her, he had good taste when it came to tattoos.
Examining one of her soaked cigarettes, she tossed it back into the carton with a sigh of disgust. Glancing up and around the emptying sidewalks, she was waiting for her friends- the ones that were dead, anyway. They had all been given "jobs" from Andras that morning and had agreed to meet back here before they all headed back to the penthouse apartment they shared- another gift from the generous Andy. The rain shouldn't deter any of them- they would feel it well enough, but they wouldn't get cold or uncomfortable.
"Death. All the pleasure without the pain," Reed muttered wryly, tapping her feet impatiently against the concrete, the rain splashing slightly under her toes. It wasn't true, either- the material sense of pleasure, maybe. Andy kept them supplied with all the material goods they could want, and it wasn't like they had lost the able to physically feel, either, although pain and cold and heat had become meaningless. Death had put an emptiness inside of them, and Reed couldn't remember the last time she'd smiled without smirking or grinning maniacally. She knew what was missing- she also knew they were forbidden to approach anyone from their past life. A bit of cruelty on Andy's part- giving them bodies that looked like their old ones, only lacking the heartbeat.
we're gonna revel in hating what's going on.
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