Of Monsters And Men | Discontinued |

Episode Thirty One - Rot

Evren wakes up with her heart in her throat.

Nightmares are never ending. She's woken up so many times through the past nights- gasping and grabbing her chest, Rot brushing against her palms, sending her back into sleep within just moments, murmuring gently. It doesn't understand nightmares. It can feel how panicked she is each time she awakes, each time the distorted images flutter behind her eyelids. She can sense its worry, its growing concern for letting her fall back asleep.

Finally, she pushes herself from the stiff mattress, shoving her bag over her shoulder. She doesn't want to stay here- her skin is already crawling with the need to move. Evren digs through the bag, hands closing around the pills. They rattle as she pulls it out, popping the lid off. There's only eight left- not even enough for a week. She drops two onto her tongue. They're bitter. Her mouth curls into disgust and she hurriedly swallows them. Rot swells into her throat, grabbing the pills for itself. She can feel Rot break the nutrients down, sucking out every last atom of phenethylamine. She clears her throat, and Rot disappears back into her flesh.

She lugs the bag onto her lap, dumping out the contents all over the rustled sheets. Crumpled bills scatter and cards flutter. She sets them into piles, pushing the cards further away. She's only going to use the cards when she has to. They leave a trail that will lead right to her, no matter where she goes.

And it's been three days since she left Matt's apartment. She hasn't seen him, hasn't heard him, even when she lays on the uncomfortable mattress and tries to find where he is.

She munches on caramel filled chocolates, leg swinging off of the bed. The news is boring, but she finds herself liking the rhythm of waking up, playing the news as she gets dressed and brushes her teeth. Then she leaves, turning the tv off as she goes. Whenever she comes back, she settles back on the bed and turns the news back on.

Within the past few days, she's found several jobs that she'd be willing to do. There's an agency hiring bodyguards, but she read through the crappy policies and already threw the papers away. Another job with crappy pay as a secretary of sorts. She threw the paperwork for that position away, too. She needs to protect people; to have that thrill of fighting she adores-- the way her heart jolts and fluid flames roar through her veins, clouding her mind until all she can feel is her jaws wrapping around someone's head.

Evren shakes her head, clearing her throat. She turns her attention to the news, tapping her nails against her leg. Thinking about biting people in half, about Rot controlling her more than she's controlling herself, still makes her uneasy. She likes being in control of things, of herself.

"Wilson Fisk has just been taken into custody today as of 10:47 pm. He's being taken to--"

"Holy shit." She jolts up, wrapper falling off of her shirt. Even through her satisfaction of seeing him being lead to prison, her stomach twists. There's something wrong about all of this. He's calm, too calm, as he's being driven away.

'He has a plan. Hurry. We have to go.'

She shoves on a coat, hurrying from the door, stomping her way down the slippery cement steps. Her flats nearly slip three times. Rot impatiently wraps itself around her, pushing them to go faster. People scream and divide around them, pointing at them in horror. They hadn't expected the streets to be so busy, yet there's crowds of people.

The people had to have been watching Fisk be driven away.

They lift their nose into the air, inhaling until their head swims and their lungs are about to burst. They slither onto a roof, leaving gash marks behind. They aren't worried about keeping themselves worried anymore. They're worried about what Fisk is going to do.