The Classix

(2ND DRAFT) chapter SEVEN

NOTE: Happy Friday, friends!!! How'd the week go? Have a good Valentine's day? Tell me all about it.

If you follow me, you probably got the notification in which I requested you give me your story's title so I could read it. If you haven't done so already, PLEASE COMMENT ME THE NAME OF YOUR BOOK RIGHT HERE!! I want to go to a cafe later today and read as many stories as I can. Like I've always said, if you're going to take the time to read my words, I'm going to take the time to read yours.

Also, comment your name here as well. I want to make you a character in this story. As for those who got to be in the Fanatix, YOU'LL BE BACK. SOON.

(We all totally saw that GIF coming.)

PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: We got to hear from DEFED, and we found out that our favorite dead girl BREE ARCH WAS A SPY FOR THEM. Needless to say, I saw a lot of theories in the comments. If you haven't shared your theory yet, do share. You know I love coming up with twisted plot lines, so it'd be awesome to hear your own.

EMERAY

    It takes almost thirty minutes to get to where my meeting is. Looking out the window, I watch as the streets begin to change. One moment they're concrete, and the next, cobblestone, creating bumps of turbulence as we go. The further the car drives, the narrower these streets get until soon enough, the car is almost pressed against the curb, moving slow and careful through icy twists and turns. I take in every structure, every signal and sign visible through the window. What confuses me the most is how I've never seen any of it before—a whole, entire section of Colburn that I haven't had any chance to explore. With all the walking around it I do with Cartney, I almost thought I knew this city like the back of my hand.

    By the time the car finally comes to a stop, the world from outside my door is completely foreign to me. The buildings look industrial––monochrome and strangely ominous, like warehouses that have long since been abandoned. When I step out onto the bumpy ground, snow sheets down on me so fast and thick, it looks fake. I get a bad feeling instantly.

    "Uh, where are we?" I ask Gerald, looking around some more. Across the street, it's all the same: Big warehouses. No people. Just snow and silence.

    He tugs off his guard-attire cap, placing it over my head to shelf me from the snow. "We're in Outer Colburn, more affectionately known as the Ashes."

    "The Ashes?"

    "Consider it the midpoint between city and suburbs. Once a thriving area, now past its prime and full of empty space. So if Colburn burns, this is the residue. Get it?"

    I nod, pulling Chapter's coat closer to my chin. "And why are we having a meeting all the way out here?"

    Regarding my question with a shrug, Gerald leads me into a building with a rusting orange metal door. The area inside is lit solely by the overcast sky outside through the windows, turning my stomach at first glance. In the grey light, broken, corroding tables and chairs are strewn around haphazardly, like the skeleton of something that ended a long time ago. There is no one at the front desk to greet us, only a hoard of Famoux sentries lining the perimeter of the room with their guns at the ready. They're completely motionless except the one at the start of a hallway, who nods to Gerald for us to come her way. I feel the eyes of every single guard on me as we move across the warehouse––following my movements in a way that makes me self conscious. I pull Gerald's hat down to cover me more.