Aftermath || Sequel to The World Without Them [HIATUS]

09 | Dispatched

 "We will not negotiate with the likes of you."

 Frost's eyes snapped open. He looked around, confused and sluggish. Every movement he made seemed to be in slow motion, like there was an invisible weight tied to his limbs. He tried to break free, but was only met with more of the unseen resistance.

 He then realized he was in a courtyard. Everything was black and white, as if a monochrome filter had been placed in front of his vision. It was all blurry, and no amount of blinking was able to clear the grainy haze. For a moment, Frost's heart leaped for fear he had lost his sight completely. Only when his surroundings gradually came into focus was he able to calm himself slightly.

 The boy squinted as his eyes strained to compute the scene before him. He could hear whispers coming from all around, increasing and decreasing in volume sporadically as if a ghost was murmuring to him. He felt panic begin to rise as the sheer frustration of not being able to know exactly where he was or who was near him took over. Yet, as much as his body wanted to react with alarm, it simply couldn't.

 Every emotion was harnessed and imprisoned within him.

 Frost tilted his head back slowly. Towering over him was a building he didn't recognize. It was made of black stone and was barricaded on all sides by metal gates. Dead trees stood alongside the structure, and sickly vines covered its walls. But the part that scared the adolescent the most was not the mysterious building itself, but the people occupying its massive stairs.

 They were all faceless.

 Creatures he presumed to be human with heads covered completely in skin stood in front of the place's entrance. No eyes, no mouths, no noses. Nothing. They were bare, and yet had the body of regular people. It was the most terrifying thing Frost had ever seen.

 Turning, he saw that he was surrounded by similar beings. They waved their guns in the air as if chanting silent rallying cries with their nonexistent lips. Some stood behind him, and others defensively in front with weapons drawn as if preparing for battle. Frost's heart began to beat faster and faster as the deafening silence made the frantic sound of his vital organ louder in his eardrums. He wanted to escape. He wanted to be anywhere but in the courtyard.

 "You are doomed to fail."

 The hollow, masculine voice from earlier broke the quiet, and this time it was much louder than before. Frost faced the building once more as a faceless figure stepped forward. His eyes fell to the gun gripped firmly in the creature's hand.

"Your nightmares will always win."

 It slowly raised the firearm. The whispers grew louder in Frost's mind, and a static sound consumed his conscience. The teen tried to move, but his feet were glued to the cement. He wanted to yell for help, but he knew there was no one who would hear him. 

 He watched helplessly as the gun aligned with his forehead, and could do nothing but stand absolutely still as the trigger was pulled, and his vision went black.

~~~~~~ 

 Frost sat bolt upright with an alarmed shout. He flailed his arms and kicked the sheets off, trying to fend off the demons that still haunted his mind. The boy was drenched in sweat, and his body temperature was higher than he thought possible.

 He gasped for air as his limbs finally stopped spasming. Mana, who had been sleeping peacefully on a pillow near the window on the other side of the room, instantly shot awake at the sound of her partner's distress. She set a clubbed arm over the red jewel on her chest to calm her panicked breathing, and let out a whine as the adrenaline left Frost as empty as a deflated balloon.