He opens the library door, stepping his snow covered boots onto the doormat with a small 'thump'.
As he walks around the cramped building, each book looks the same, as if everything has blurred together, causing the background to be a slightly grayish and dampened color scheme.
Then finally, after hours of roaming the never ending halls, a book catches his eye.
The cover name is scratched out, causing dents within the leather binding.
"How have I not seen this before?" The brunette questions, as he takes the book within his hands, running his multicolored nails along the scribbled words.
He flips open the cover, revealing the first page, which appears to be an authors note, blurred by ink and time, yet slightly readable.
'⎅⍜⋏'t s⏁⍀⏃⊬ ⎎⍀om ⏁⊑e ⌿a⏁⊑.'
- :]
———
Tommy doesn't exactly care anymore. It's been a while since he had a reason to care about the world.
When was the last time I genuinely cared?,
Tommy has made a bit of a habit, asking himself this question over, and over again. To the normal person it might seem like his brain is on repeat, as if he was a broken record in need of fixing.
Surprisingly though, it's the only question he asks these days, which pales in comparison to the mountains of mysteries his ten-year old self came up with before breakfast each morning.
His ten-year old self probably needed some help.
But that is an irrelevant detail nowadays. It won't help Tommy at all knowing that he was a fucked up child.
You still are a fucked up child, a quiet voice had whispered in his head, seemingly manifesting in his brain, as if it was settling down into its knew home.
But that's normal, innit?
Wait, what do you mean 'It's not norma-
The sound of shuffling made itself present near Tommy's 'Home', which, in reality was just a few leaves and sticks tied into a makeshift tent.
Whatever was causing the noise outside of his humble abode was heavy, maybe the weight of a more sizable animal, one that Tommy could actually get a real meal out of.
Tommy scrambled within his tent, desperately grabbing sharp objects that could possibly take down the animal, fueled by his own hunger rather than any kind of energy.
Just as the shuffling grew near, Tommy was able to grasp a very dull knife, but a knife nonetheless. Maybe not as sharp as a hunter would wish, but he had to make due with it.
The wind blew at the covering of his tent, beckoning him out into the loud and snowy world outside.
And being completely honest?
Tommy was pretty hesitant.
For a moment he had stopped reaching towards the leaves that covered his tent, questioning if it was actually worth it.
Was surviving truly worth it, when you were indeed, the soul survivor? Tommy was positive that if he didn't chase down that meal, he would die the next day, but.... Was that actually bad?
Yes, whispered the small, yet logical voice.
And that was all Tommy needed. He jumped out into the world that he once loved, greeted by a snowy and desolate landscape.
——
"M-mommy, I has a-another nightmare..." Cried the small child as he ran towards his mothers spot on the warm carpet.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sunshine. What was the nightmare about?" The boys mother cooed softly as Tommy sat down next to her.
"Y-You left me alone!" The child sobbed, holding onto his mothers dress, as if she was about to be ripped away at a moments notice.
"Aw, sweetie..." The mother cooed, pulling her son onto her lap and gazing down at him.
"I promise I'll never leave you alone." His mother said, offering a small smile to the child.
"P-Promise?" He held his pinky-finger up to his mother, tears brimming in his eyes.
"Promise."
And yet, to the young child's utter confusion... his mother never returned the pinky-promise.
——
"Hey? Hey, kid!" A unfamiliar monotone voice yelled.
Tears already clouded Tommy's vision, pouring down his face rapidly. He snapped his head around, trying to find the source of the voice.
His blurred eyes finally spotted it! It? Them? He isn't quite sure. A pink blob stood not to far from him, standing cautiously at a safe distance.
More tears streamed down Tommy's face and he was almost unable to breath, sending him tumbling to the ground with each step he took, wobbling like a drunken teen.
Black dots clouded Tommy's vision as the dull knife slowly fell to the ground with a distinct clatter.
And for the first time in years?
He let the cold win.
YOU ARE READING
COLD,COLD,COLD || SBI
FanfictionTommy had always been obsessed with the things no one could understand. He would sit in-front of his parents fireplace for countless hours, seemingly trying to come up with answers for the universe's great mysteries. But those days are over now, th...
