The End of the World

The angry faces of the gravestone glowered at Finn. Under the weak, flickering beam of his flashlight, their gravelly skin twisted like the wrinkling faces of human elderly, which gravity had succeeded in weighing down after a lifetime of pressure. The darkness encircled Finn in the crypt, and he couldn't ignore how fast his heart raced, each beat like a slap of lightning to his insides. Down here, in this decayed hell hole of death, Finn couldn't help but worry that he himself was wandering foolishly into the Grim Reaper's outstretched arms.

Finn tried to ignore that terrifying thought, instead flitting his flashlight between all of the gravestones and pillars and other decorations throughout the crypt, quickly scanning for any sign of his desired targets. However, there didn't seem to be anyone in this dark hole, not a-

A shoe. There was a shoe.

His hand, which held the flashlight, stuttered to a stop. Indeed, in front of Finn was a leather loafer. Finn's hand shot upward and a figure bloomed before his eyes- the loafers, thick gray trousers, a matching coat, and the handsome, rugged face of Public Enemy Number One. And Finn, just a measly solider, had found him.

A muffled voice interrupted Finn's gawking at the man before him. It inquired harshly, "Ralph! Have you found any trace of them, or are you too busy thinking about how that crypt is nicer than your own home?"

Before Finn could respond in confirmation (to the first part, not the second- he wasn't even sure where that line came from), his vision stirred before his eyes. And suddenly he wasn't alone with a single traitor, but two. A girl. A girl who, foolishly, had chosen to stand before her father protectively, reaching a small hand out towards Finn. Finn knew that hand. He knew that girl.

There had been a time where Finn thought Lisel had been crafted specifically by God as a gift to him. Starlight twirled outwards from her roots around a face that reminded Finn of the porcelain dolls in his sister's room. Her blue eyes had swallowed the ocean, framed by lashes that burst out like black fireworks from her eyelids. She had a petite, button nose. Lips that were lush and pink and kissable. And even with grime streaked across her cheeks, clothing torn, her hair in complete disarray- she was his Lisel. His angel, his darling, his dreams, his love.

And she was so much more than just a traitor's daughter. His mind wandered to the many nights they shared together, sneaking out of their prospective houses to meet under the cover of the moon and the stars. Finn thoughts meandered to the moonlight, making her hair and skin glow. To sweaty palms pressed against each other. To the hollow line of her throat, to the thick bone of her collarbone, as his fingers discovered her body for the first time. To feverish mouths tasting each other. Again. And again. Finn thought about how Lisel was the first girl he had ever loved and (maybe he was only saying by this because he was seventeen and Finn thought he would die without Lisel) would probably ever love again.

So he shouted back to his superior, "There's n-no one here!"

And he extinguished his flashlight with a flick of his fingers, turning around to escape the confines of the crypt, of the hell that was filled with the angel he had to say goodbye to. But maybe, like Odysseus, who had failed to retrieve his dead wife from the Underworld, he was returning to a world much worse than the land of death: a world without Lisel Von Trapp.

"Okay, no. Stop," a new voice snapped. "Nuns, nuns, go away. I need much more time to fix your horrible scene- I only need a couple of minutes to deal with this Ralph and Lisel shit."

Abruptly, the burning lights faded away and Finn resisted the urge to run. To run away away from the theater, to the physical center only a couple blocks away, where he knew there was a swimming pool. A swimming pool he could jump into, the water washing away all the sweat that practically served as an adhesive to hold his costume to his skin (but, of course, Finn would never do that. He was in full costume, after all (but if he wasn't, oh, the fun he would have)).