The Untold Story of Texas and Lappland (Arknights)

Days of Forgotten Past 11

Some people say that traumatic experiences were impossible to truly envision. This is mainly because a part of the brain simply shuts down when it comes to the event that caused so much damage, to the point where the brain physically cannot handle delving into the matter further so it simply chooses not to. So instead, there would be after effects displaying themselves in nightmares and the ghost of terror visiting the victim at the strangest times. There was no telling what might set someone off, no telling what might trigger them. PTSD was not something to be taken lightly, this much Texas would come to understand only several years later.

Because like it or not, she wasn't one of those people who forgot.

No.

No matter how hard she tried to push reality away, to leave the past behind her, there would be no running for her. Like a hungry wolf it hunted her down, forcing her to face the darkness she feared reflected inside her own heart.

And at the heart of it all was always that day, the day that she thought forever severed her from all her responsibilities. And, more importantly, the day that severed her from Lappland.

The countdown of fate reached zero when she heard the screams.

*****

Texas was on her street, a short block from home. The goods from her shopping trip with Houston rustled in the paper bag she carried, tucked beneath her left arm. A lightness was inside her as the brisk winter air pressed chilly snowflakes on her bare cheeks. Others winked as they landed on her scarf and tickled her wolf ears. Tail swinging in a slow rhythm behind her, Texas found herself humming a nonsensical tune. After what felt like an eternity, she was feeling good again. A peace blanketed her as she made the journey home, her mind for once free of a troublesome white wolf.

And then there was the scream.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Texas froze in place as the shrill cry cut through the dry air. She knew that voice, the timber of it similar to her own. Her feet were rooted to the ground only a moment more as she detected the notes within the scream. The pain, the fear, the fury, the anguish. They rebounded in and out of her skull like clockwork, refusing to settle despite the desperate need to be complacent and fixate on one particular emotion. The streets were empty, no one else out this late in the evening. The park across from their home was vacant save for the few birds that hadn't flown south for the winter. They went up into the air in a flurry of dark feather and raucous cries of their own at the piercing noise.

The bag Texas had held so carefully hit the ground hard. She sucked in a breath, letting it stutter out of her nose before making a mad dash towards the source.

If the pained cry hadn't been a dead giveaway, the smoke clouding the night would have nailed the final nail in the coffin. Flames licked into the sky, originating from the very place she had found shelter in after the deaths of her parents all those years ago.

"GRAN!"

She screamed in terror. Alphas weren't meant to scream but this one ran out of her anyways as horror took hold. Oh no oh no oh no. This was wrong, so very wrong. Being a mostly brick structure the home still managed to keep standing despite the roaring flames, but the signs of damage were as clear as purified water. Broken windows, charred door, a massacred porch. The swing out front was a fiery heap of ashes, the gleam of a metal chain peeking out amidst the rubble all that was left of it.

The door was hanging on off its hinges already when she busted through, smoke making her eyes burn as it swam against her vision to blot out the burning walls. Her stomach flipped as her anxiety continued to grow. Fires like this that smelt of oil and gas could only mean one thing. She took great haste speeding over to the kitchen, her legs feeling like they were flying over damaged floorboards as she went.