Our journey, for the most part, was made in tense silence. As we walked I payed attention to every minute detail so as not to forget it when we left. The street underneath our feet was cracked and worn. Besides some sporadic streaks all the paint had been scraped off either by the explosions or people running frantically out of the city. All that was left of buildings were piles of rubble. Occasionally there'd be a picture frame or child's toy that managed to survive the utter destruction, only to be left behind and forgotten amidst the rush.
Some buildings still smoldered slightly. And yet, the air was smog-free due to the light snowfall. Snowflakes joined the thin layer of ice forming on the ground. The wind blew ashes into the air only for them to settle down again upon other unsuspecting remains. Together they created quite the calming scene.
When I finished scanning the place I stole a quick glance towards Nick, immediately furrowing my eyebrows in concern. His hands were visibly shaking, and beads of sweat lined his temple despite the cold. He must have felt my gaze upon him because almost immediately afterwards he used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead, then proceeded to conceal his trembling hands by shoving them into his pockets.
"Nick."
After swallowing the lump in his throat he painstakingly made eye contact with me.
"Hm?"
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothin'," he mumbled, suddenly finding fascination with the ground.
I bit my lip in thought but dropped the conversation, unsure if I wanted to push it any further. Not even 5 minutes later he began to showcase worsening symptoms. He stumbled over his feet, walking as though he were a drunken man. He murmured words to himself that I couldn't quite make out, and frequently ran his hand down his neck like something was irritating it.
I frowned. "Nick."
He continued the incomprehensible murmuring, so I repeated his name once again.
He held a hand out to silence me. "Not now Greyson." His voice was laced with warning.
I waited impatiently for another minute but nothing changed, so I walked up closer to him and placed my hand on his shoulder, spinning him around to look at me. I was preparing to yell at him - to tell him to knock off the stupid behavior. Instead I was greeted with an unsettling sight. His eyes, typically hazel, became so foggy that it was hard to make out any true color beyond the forefront grey. He looked at me as if silently begging - no, pleading - me to save him. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Then suddenly his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and in its place came two fully black eyes. I stared into them, mesmerized by how completely lifeless and empty they were.
I slowly placed my right foot behind me, shifting my weight to it and steadily advancing backwards to put more distance between myself and the person that was Nick just a few moments ago.
"What are you?" I breathed out, still held captive by the way the eyes made me feel. Looking into them, my stomach tied itself up in knots and my body felt detached from the rest of me. Although I physically stood in front of him, I could feel my soul fleeing and not stopping to look back. His eyes alone held a death grip around my heart, daring to end my life in a moment's notice. A flame ignited within my chest, tempting me to draw near. Then the feeling vanished and I was made aware of our horribly close I was to him still.
