Snippet #2811785

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Alex had never really been the type to go to the market, but it seemed that a lot had changed in the past few months. Truth be told, Alex had been glued to Phoenix’s side, lately. This wasn’t necessarily unusual for anyone to see, everyone in town was used to seeing them together. They were inseparable when they were children, and whether that was because Alex had a hard time making other friends or because they had just genuinely always gotten along was anyone’s guess. This was, of course, different. There was a different level of affection, and an underlying terror that something horrible could happen if he walked too far away. It was silly, of course. Everything was fine. Still, Alex worried. Some part of him wondered if he’d always been a worrier, or if these constant attacks had made him like that. But that morning he had Phoenix, the sunshine, some strawberries. What more could he ask for?

Alex figured that Phoenix was about ready to go, and yet there he was, pouring over various knick-knacks and trinkets. He remembered when he was a kid, his grandparents always said that every time he left the house, he came home with something new. Whether that be a rock, a charm, or a frog he’d caught. Not much had changed there, though he’d mostly stopped catching frogs. He tried to limit the amount of “junk” he brought home, but it was hard not to see everything as a potential treasure.

Then the screaming started. At first, Alex wondered if it was all just a dream; an attack in broad daylight just didn’t seem right. But the screaming continued, bodies were dropping. Alex didn’t know who'd reached out for the other, but he was holding Phoenix’s hand. He didn’t like any of this, every time there was an attack they lost someone, and every attack had threatened everything that meant something to him. He turned to look at Phoenix.

Then he was running; Phoenix was pulling him along, and he wasn’t complaining. It was chaos, the sounds of terror filled the air, people were running in every direction, running into one another, scrambling over one another, picking each other back up. Fight or flight, it seemed, had kicked in town wide. Personally, Alex was all flight, no fight. He’d always been more prone to running, and was even more so since that first attack.

If we can just get home, He reasoned with himself, we’ll be okay. He wasn’t feeling particularly hopeful, though. One- or both- of them had gotten hurt in every attack so far. How much longer could this go on? But they were closer to safety by the second, and Alex started to feel like it might be okay this time. They might be okay this time.

Then they were cut off by a group of hunters, herded towards an alleyway. This was uncomfortably familiar, and he swore the scar on his stomach was burning at the memory of that first attack. Still, it was all too easy to find himself backed into a corner. After that everything happened so quickly. If the hunters said anything, Alex didn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. It was low, constant, and reminded him more of the ocean. Or of turmoil. Fear. Then a voice cut through, bouncing through his head as if it had always existed there. She hadn’t spoken to him, or even reached out in a dream, since they’d made their pact. The fact that she was there in his time of need may have been comforting, if the circumstances were different. “Are you just going to stand there like last time? Let them kill you again?”

Alex wondered if she would hear his thoughts, or if he had to speak aloud. That’s not what happened. I tried, but I-

“Because you’re weak. Don’t worry, I’m not.”

Alex seemed to snap back to reality just in time for the action. Alex could hear screaming, crying, gunshots. He heard it all, but it almost sounded like he was underwater, or a mile away. It reminded him of dying- or, almost dying- but not quite. Travis was there. Why was Travis there? He didn’t seem to be on the hunter’s side, unless this was some kind of trap. The fighting seemed real enough, though Alex felt like he was watching it all remotely. Like he wasn’t real. It felt like a dream; everything was happening around him, he was present, but he felt like he didn’t have control over anything. Not even himself.

Normally he would have taken the distraction Travis had created to try and run. He knew he was no match against hunters, even with his powers. But a whisper in the back of his mind told him to stop. The last time he’d ignored a warning like that, he’d very nearly died. The remaining hunter (that wasn’t fighting Travis) turned back to Alex and Phoenix, presumably bored of watching a fistfight between humans. There really wasn’t that much space between them, but Alex ran.

“Close the gap. Don’t give him a chance. All you have to do is touch him.”

When Alex was young, he’d always imagined that using his powers to do something more substantial than reanimating a butterfly would feel like something. He’d never known what he expected, really. A surge of power? Warmth? Since then, he’d found that the only thing he really felt when he used his powers was cold. Maybe that was just the reality of death; it was cold. This felt different, though. Something was flowing through him, using him. It wasn’t him, but it wasn’t not him, either.

Alex grabbed the man’s arm and the first thing he noticed was the screaming, then the rot as the man’s flesh began to decay. Then came an overwhelming feeling, one he wasn’t sure he recognized, at first. He felt powerful. Alex didn’t move as he watched the man rot and decay; he didn’t scream for long, his skin quickly began to liquify, and he crumpled to the ground as his decomposition continued. Alex looked down at his hands, turning them over as if to study them. He heard a gunshot, looked up. Travis. Travis’ words seemed to make the realization of what had just happened hit Alex, and he quickly brought a fist up to cover his mouth as he gagged. Fuck, he thought to himself, don’t let this bother you, it’s just another dead guy. Then he doubled over and retched all over his shoes, and whatever was left of the hunter he’d killed. Then, weakly, asked, “Phoenix, you okay?”