Terror. A dimension mirroring the living one--but morphed to reflect the imagination of its Overseer. And the current Overseer... has refused to relinquish her power for centuries, tormenting her souls--"terrors"--into becoming... zombies.
Arielle f...
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Gluing themselves together helped—but the temperature continued to drop the farther they walked. Benny's arm was stiff, and Jade's was locked under it, shivering and shocked with cold. Their steps were cautious, as the ground in places had been covered with a slick ice, and holding on to each other was their only means to keep their balance. They spoke little, and took turns putting their hands in their pockets, doing their damndest to level their breaths. Swirls of smoke swept from their mouths, and Benny's lungs were filled with a glacial gust that further froze him to the core.
The clouds loomed lower, reflecting white instead of red; the sky was no longer a blur of blood, but instead a cloak of white fur. It was as if they'd moved from a hellish realm of fire and fear, infested with monsters, to an arctic dead-zone of eerie silence and snow. As if they'd been transported, teleported, transferred elsewhere without their consent.
Benny had hesitated several times, wondering if he should retrace his steps. Yes, he needed Jade's protection, and yes, he wanted to assure himself that Arielle was—and would be—okay; but what about his own sanity? Getting so close to Penelope unsettled him. When drunk with rage, stumbling into the house to confront Kylie's supposed killer, he was riding a wave of adrenaline, a surge of violence he wasn't familiar with. But now, sober, lucid, and dead, he didn't feel as confident in his anger. As he was now, he'd never be able to exact vengeance over Kylie's wrongful death, and he wasn't sure he wanted to try.
He was tired. He wouldn't fare well without Jade, but she'd mentioned that up north, there were fewer zombies. Other rebels lived there, and if he could somehow sneak up without alerting any zombies, if he could figure out how to fend for himself for a few days, he'd be fine in the long run.
And yet that curiosity—the same that had kept him investigating ghosts while alive—attached him to Jade and her goal of getting to Penelope's house. With every shaky step he took, he knew he was making a mistake, but he couldn't stop himself. And in truth, if he were to turn around now, he wasn't positive he'd survive the arctic temperatures alone; and neither would Jade.
I owe her that much. My weak body heat combined with hers is what's keeping us alive right now.
"Is he..." Benny's teeth clattered. "Is he close?"
Jade jabbed her elbow into his stomach; on purpose or not, he couldn't twist his neck to find out, because his muscles were so stiff. "How the fuck would I know?" She wiggled her fingers and squeezed them as hard as she could around Benny's arm. "They didn't give me those kinds of details. Like how to know when and if he's here, and how close."
It was Benny's turn to stuff his hands in his pockets, though the rough jean fabric offered little comfort and not much improvement from the glacial air. "Sorry... I wonder if we're about to bump into him, or something." He didn't finish his sentence, wanting to save his breath—but he hoped they wouldn't come across this mythical Being from the slumbering Soul Realm. The idea of a creature able to freeze over an entire realm terrified him almost more than an Overseer producing zombies with her rebellious actions.