[ 🫧 ] sᴇᴠᴇɴ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ

prelude - 2 years ago

Breathing. Heavy breathing. That’s all he could hear, no creak of his joints, no circuit sparks, just his hot breath, feet pounding on the concrete, light rain attempting to catch him like a net, heart pounding, pounding as if it was slamming itself on the ground along with his feet.

Breathing was something only humans could do. It was code that had to run constantly, otherwise the human would drop dead.

And inconveniently, humans couldn’t be recharged.

But breathing now. . . it hurt. The skin inside his throat felt like it was being stretched until it almost tore, like the hand of a monster was clawing at his insides, attempting to rip him apart so it could crawl out.

Multicolored bokeh lights turned into lines as he sprinted past them. A knot formed in his chest, pulling his throat into his heart, snatching his breath out of his throat as his legs began to numb. He stopped and stumbled, almost throwing himself over the edge of a bridge. Fingers numb with cold grasped the railing so tight that the knuckles turned white.

He fumbled at his collar with ice-cold fingers, yanked a plastic tag off, and threw it—hurled it out into the bleak, black night save for the thousands of little colorful lights from the city below.

Wind whipped at his clothing, helicopter blades slicing through the air, and he immediately turned to start running again. He stumbled into a dark alleyway, dropped down on the wet concrete with his back against the rough brick wall, head back as he inhaled shakily, eyelids squeezed shut.

His shoulders shook with his breath as he grabbed the stitch on his side. Everything hurt; his chest, his legs, his shoulders, his head, the tips of his fingers as the sharp cold air nipped at them. He inhaled sharply and his whole body shuddered as he exhaled.

He pressed his palm to the side of his forehead but pulled back immediately. Dark, dark red—almost black—seeped on his palm, down his wrist, a few beads down the side of his head, and down his chin. He groaned and shut his eyes again.

It was already so dark, but he could see black dots dancing in his vision, slowly growing like spilled ink until the ebony midnight came to take him home.