That New Age Shiz - Short Stories

Archangel

TW: Mass panic, violence, implied murder

//I wrote this while inspired. It takes place in the future, but the rest is explained in the story. The two main characters are meant to have traces of mine and my boyfriend's personalities. I for Lana, him for Kaden. This is not, however, a self insert. They hold only themes of our personalities.
In this short, Kaden is enamored with Lana. Even during a crisis, he can't stop thinking about her. //

"Lana!"

The lights are out. Oh God, the lights are out. The buzzing hum of constant electricity flow was gone. And screams were replacing it.

"Lana!" I called again, unable to see. I had caught eyes with her just before the blackout. She was a few paces away. But now the lazy walk of foot traffic in the mall was a horrible torrent of noise.

"Kaden!"

She's afraid. I've known her for years. The only other time I've heard her afraid was tenth grade when I nearly got hit by an autotaxi. There was a shrill tone to her shout- almost a half scream.

"Lana!"

She's so headstrong. Almost too much so. She wasn't afraid of anything. She'd take any dare so long as it involved only herself. She once spent the night in the forest. When I came looking for her the next morning, she was watching blue jays fight over a tree. I didn't think she'd actually do it.

"Kaden!"

A body crashed into me. It smelled like lavender. "Lana! Are you okay?" I had to yell to be heard over the panicked mob.

"The fuck? What does that matter? We need to get out of here!" Her hand grasped my wrist a bit too hard as she dragged me into the raging river of bodies. I brushed against a sweaty obese man. My immediate reaction wasn't disgust like I thought it should've been. In that moment, we were all souls trying to be safe.

Lana was nineteen. She had straight red-brown hair that fell only just past her shoulders. Freckles dominated her face. Her hazel eyes were so powerful.

I'm pretty average myself- untamed brown hair with dark brown eyes. Not much else is noticeable about me. Lana and I were born only a month apart.

My arm muscles were yanked to the left and the rest of my body followed. Lana had spotted an empty clothing store. She pulled me around the corner of the wall separating the store from the outside and crouched down, staring at the entrance.

Lana has constant scratches. She tells me of night hikes where the branches scratch up her arms so much that they've left something of a tattoo of damaged skin. So careless. She doesn't smile about it.

"It's the strainers. It has to be." She vocalized in an urgent whisper. "Their last strike was Roseville."

Strainers. Sounds like a kitchen utensil, but they're nothing to laugh at. They're a group of terrorists that were enraged at the confiscation of firearms in 2050. In response, the right wing parties latched on to the topic of overpopulation. Extremists who felt they were wronged by their lack of weapons took on to arming themselves with knives and other handheld tools. They take to thinning the population through large scale attacks. They cut the power and commit mass murder. They torture and film. They do worse things. They thin us out. Kind of like strainers.

Lana's jaw is clenched tightly. She's panicking.  I don't realize it until I reach my hand to her, but I'm shaking. I lay my hand on her shoulder and look into her eyes. "We'll be okay. They want the majority. They'll leave us alone."

"Why do you think I took you here?" She snapped and paused. "I'm sorry."

Without warning, I wrapped my arms around her. She flinched and sat rigid for a moment. Then she melted into me. My heart melted too.

"Cute." A new voice almost snickered.

Lana and I both sat upwards, startled.

Three figures stood over us, all with masks that covered their noses and mouths. Designs were painted in glow paint. There was a female with long hair in a ponytail. She had a shark mouth painted on her mask. The lead person was a male. He had the sides of his head shaved, leaving a tuft at the top styled with gel. His mask was painted to resemble a gas mask. The last was another male. His mask was a simple line curved upwards as If a smile. Splatters of paint were around it.

"Ah fuck." I exhaled, unable to say much more. Lana. Is she safe? I should move between her and the lead guy. Why us?

I shifted my foot to move when the lead male's voice stopped me.

"Wouldn't do that." He tapped a knife against a nearby mannequin.

"You're right- most of us do go for crowds." The female spoke again. "Us three just like to savor our time." The man that had not yet spoken moved around us and closed the storefront doors.

My heartbeat picked up. The blood drained from my face. I don't know how, but my hand grasped Lana's. Her palms were sweating. While I was sure that I had been the one in front, Lana now seemed to be more exposed.

Gas mask guy seemed to notice too.

"A strong lady. I like that." He tilted his head. "Max."

The man that had just closed the doors now moved towards us at an alarming speed.

Even more alarming was his grunt of surprise.

Lana had met the charge head on and was now trying to overpower him. I jumped up to help but collided with gas mask guy.

"Don't even think about it. Jewel, help me out."

Next thing I knew, I couldn't breathe. The shark girl- Jewel- had slammed me against a wall and now had my wrists in a death grip behind my back.

"Kinky." I coughed. What? Why did I say that? My mind is scrambled I don't know what to do. Lana can't win against them. Why did she do that?!

Jewel did not appreciate my unexpected advance and twisted my skin. I opened my mouth to emit a silent cry. I can't see around gas mask. With a gasping breath, I called for Lana.

I'm not much of a daredevil. The craziest thing I've done was eat a worm. Lana had said I wouldn't. I really wanted to prove myself to her. I really liked her.

Now she's screaming. She's more than angry. Her rage seems to ripple through the room, tones of orange. Gas mask takes her off of smiley mask- Max. He's ruffled but not too damaged.

Lana is slammed onto the floor face first where Gas mask kneels on her back. She's guppy breathing, trying to equalize the airflow to her lungs. Colors are so vibrant. She's purple. He's green. They're our age. Brainwashed, probably.

"Lana!" My voice is shrill and my throat hurts from the effort. Blue.

Flash frames. Like a bad VR game. Gas mask grabs Lana's hair from where he is, yanking her head back and exposing her throat.  Orange.

"Lana!" I'm crying. I don't know when I started. But now I can hardly see through salty tears.

Gas mask presses the blade of his knife against her soft freckled skin. So delicate.
So beautiful. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow.

"Bye-bye!" Jewel purrs behind me.

"LANA!"