Snippet #1716569

Was it peraps paranoia or did Thalia look feral for that brief second that Solamon grasped?
Something was...unstable about her. He reminded Solamon of himself in his younger days, except for the obvious gender issue, and the less destructive weaponry that she had. (Fuck, it was like looking at a mirror!)

But she put her weapon down and Solamon could appreciate the gesture of peace; genuine or not. He lowered his weapon too but still held it to his side and walked in after Yashie who had at least apologized and explained himself. It was perhaps just then, that Solamon figured just how many people this group had now attracted, a purple haired one just only moments ago. Were they magnets, just drawing people in from whatever hole they came out of?

It was like a big happy family. A big happy dysfunctional family that carried around weapons and pointed guns at one another but a family none the less!

Inside the supermarket was a small body and of course Solamon walked towards it and looked down. There was the child with a hole in his head and he stank of a mixture of dead animals with cyanide.
"Hey Terry." He had said casually with an ominous tone, having something stuck in his throat before swallowing it down, and just continued to look down at the festering body. Terry was of course, the man of the family, as his dad was the old man of the family, and they'd laugh and laugh at that terrible joke. Perhaps Solamon should've told them his actual name, instead of what everyone likes to call him, "Carlos" but he knew it wouldn"t happen. It was easier like that, not having your friends that felt like family mispronounce your name, and ruin some moments. (They thought he was Italian) No, those memories were ingrained in his mind, where Terry, his dad, Frank, his mom, would talk with Carlos as if the world wasn't slowly dying outside and that is same-old buisness as usual.

Carlos: "So you get the mushrooms?"
Frank: "No! I tell you Carlos, we've been waiting weeks on end!"
Carlos: "Really?" And he'd rub his chin with wonder. "My supply never come! Months!" And a wild hand gesture twisted in the air and a face of disbelief.
Terry: "Maybe it's a holiday?"

Those days were over now. Their bodies were barely recongnizable, only distinguished by their size, faded hair colours, and clothes. Solamon didn't say anything, what could he say? Now all my friends are dead? Silent now, he pulled a shopping cart from not too far away to each of the bodies of his friends, three of the five bodies. He picked each one up with his own two hands and dumped them in the cart, save for some...heads, still violently snapping it's teeth. As if another gruesome reminder was needed.

Solamon wheeled the cart back out the supermarket, leaving Thalia to her own devices, until he reached a tree and stopped. It was only a couple of metres from the supermarket, the small square of earth within the gray city was small, grass slightly dead and littered with leaves of fall but it would do. With the pizza paddle down on the ground, he presed his foot down on the metal like one might do a shovel, and scooped a load of earth from the square and dumped it to the side.
He didn't understand the obsession of burning these bodies people had nowadays. Something about cleanliness but that's what water is for, so it doesn't hold up.
Besides Terry and his father, mother, weren't going to be another victim of mass paranoia. They deserved better. They didn't deserve to die. Or become monsters.