✙◇ Chapter 1 -: ✧ :-゜・．

A biting freeze had settled over the city, slowing everyone down to a ghostly crawl. The streets, once loud and full of life, now looked like a dead winter wasteland. No one really remembered when the shift started. The people left on the pavement just dragged themselves along like hollow shells, moving without purpose.

They spent their days praying, worshipping something they didn't even understand.

Right in the center of the wreckage stood a massive building. It looked like a church, but it felt more like an isolation ward. A gathering place for the empty-brained who had lost their way home and wandered straight into a den of demons.

This wasn't a nightmare or a hallucination. It was just the truth.

Twenty years ago, the president was assassinated by an unknown gunman. Ever since, the city had been blown apart, turned into a chaotic, messy piece of ruined art.

"A beauty among the mess. Interesting."

The man looked no older than thirty. He stood right in the bleeding heart of the ruins, his eyes locked onto a broken digital billboard resting against a collapsed building. The screen displayed a stunning woman. She had piercing lavender eyes, a soft, captivating silhouette, and skin as pale and flawless as cotton. He stared into her eyes, trying to solve her like a puzzle.

He wasn't playing a game. He had survived in this nightmare city for years; he knew its cracked streets better than he knew his own future.

Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he flicked a cheap lighter he’d found on the road. Nothing happened. The spark died instantly. Frustrated, he hurled the useless plastic straight at the billboard.

Instead of bouncing off, the lighter passed right through the screen, defying every law of science.

"The fuck?" he muttered.

He had seen a lot of things, but true intangibility wasn't one of them.

He looked back across the street, watching the same miserable routine play out. The mindless crowd dragging their feet toward that cursed church. It was ordinary, everyday madness, but it suddenly made him realize how completely alone he was in the crowd.

He turned his attention back to the woman on the screen, tilting his head, searching for a clue he knew he’d never find.

*BANG*

A heavy grunt cut through his thoughts as a brick slammed into the back of his skull. The impact sent him crashing hard against the asphalt. Shadows stretched over him as a group of looming figures closed in, their intense stares pinning him to the ground. He tried to crawl away, coughing through a wave of sharp pain, trembling like a newborn kitten.

"You’ve been staring at the face of the goddess while we pray to God for help," a creepy voice hissed from the crowd.

A rough hand fisted into his hair, violently jerking his head back to force him to look up. They looked like regular humans, every single one of them. Except for their eyes. Their eyes looked predatory.

His blood ran entirely cold.

"For God's sake, what are these things?" he whispered, hoping the wind would swallow his words.

They heard him anyway. And they didn't like it.

Before he could draw breath, a heavy fist smashed into his ribs, followed by a boot connecting sharply with his jaw. A pair of hands twisted his head violently to the side, and his neck broke with a sickening, horrific snap.

✙◇ Chapter 2 -: ✧ :-゜・．

The train station was worn out, gray, and completely abandoned. In a city where technology no longer held any value, two men stood facing each other on the cracked tile floor. One was a young man in a leather jacket, sporting a nasty scar across his lip and a red, infected eye. An orange chew sat wedged between his torn teeth, his entire body language oozing careless hostility. The other was older, dressed in a dark hoodie with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, hiding a heavily muscled frame.

"You're a rogue weasel who doesn't know how to pay for what he takes," the older man hissed, his tone dripping with insult.

The younger man just laughed it off, a sly grin spreading across his lips. "Chill, old man. Nobody is going to drink your wallet completely dry."

A sharp cat’s hiss echoed from the ruined train. A pair of black cats hopped out, chasing each other until they bumped right into the red-haired man's leg with a low, wicked purr. The young man spit his orange chew directly at the older man's face, turning his attention to the animals. Crouching down, he grabbed one of the cats roughly by its spine and hoisted it to eye level. The other cat hissed a useless threat, which only amused the older man as he stepped closer.

"Small kittens," the older man sneered. He kicked the second cat with his polished shoe, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh that seemed to vibrate right through the animal's small body. The empty station felt freezing, leaving more than enough room for shadows to fill the space.

Seeing the two men looming over them like monsters, the cats' eyes widened with terror.

"Oi, let go of my cats, old geezer!"

A demanding voice cut across the station. The two men looked up to see a girl standing a few blocks away. She looked young and fragile, hugging a worn bag tightly against her chest, but her eyes were fierce and determined.

Standing up in a slow, deliberate motion, the red-haired man tossed the cat aside. He tilted his head, taking in every inch of her appearance before a wicked smirk crossed his face. The cats backed away on shaky paws, then bolted to hide behind the girl, who immediately scooped them into her arms.

She turned to run, but her escape was cut off instantly. The older man was already at her side. He grabbed the back of her neck and, with absolute, careless force, hurled her straight against the iron wall of the dead train.

Her body hit the metal with a loud, heavy thud.

"Going to run, huh, little girl?"

"Don't run yet. The fun's just starting."

The two men laughed loudly as they stood over her trembling form, the older one using his boot to pin her flat against the iron wall. Tears spilled from the girl's eyes as she desperately tried to shield her cats. They hissed wildly at the men, but she just wanted her pets back.

"Cry... Cry all you want. It won't help you here," the red-haired man grinned.

His hand shot out—not to grab her chin, but to clamp violently around her throat. Backed by the darkening shadows of the station, he dug his fingers deep into her windpipe.

She writhed, suffocating.

Her vision went dark and her head throbbed as the pressure cut off her blood flow.

"N-no, please—!" she choked out. Her grip on the cats loosened, sending both animals dropping to the ground with a thud. Her body went completely limp, her head lolling back as blood began to drip. The man's face twisted into a sickening smile.

The scene was pure horror. With absolute, insane strength, he literally ripped the throat tissue right out of her neck, tearing the skin apart.

He tossed the bloody tissue to his companion, who casually kicked the girl's convulsing body to the dirt. Catching the bloody mass from his friend, the older man grinned maniacally. The two of them walked away, leaving the pathetic girl behind as the cats scrambled into the dark. As they walked, the older man actually dug his teeth into the raw tissue, swallowing it down like a wild animal.

*Hhhsss—BANG*

A sudden vibration shook the ground, followed by a deafening roar. The entire station exploded. For a split second, the debris, the ruins, the cats, and the bodies of the two men seemed to freeze in a thick pause of time—before shattering piece by piece as the building crumbled, burying everything inside.

Outside, the world was a gray, red, stinking mess. There was nowhere left to hide. Corpses littered the pavement, and the military had gone completely crazy, bombarding every single fiber of the remaining structures. People covered in a strange black ink walked naked in a massive circle, moving toward the looming obsidian church. High around the building's rooftop, poles faced every direction, displaying the bloody bodies of human beings hung up like dirty secrets.

"Pray for the angel, walking toward God. May God bless us, may God bless us, may God bless us, may God bless us, may God bless us, MAY GOD BLESS US"

The frantic chanting echoed through the freezing streets as the worshippers marched closer to the dark building.

"Move! Move! Move!"

Another massive explosion tore through the air as military jets dropped a heavy payload right into the center of the praying crowd.

*BANG*

No one here had the right to build a heaven, but they were entirely free to create a hell that looked like colorful candy.

Candy by candy, the pieces spread through the air—or at least, that’s what a mind warped by madness would say about the exploded organs and souls bursting into the sky like a shower of sweets.

Nothing was normal anymore.

Even the sky had turned a sickeningly colorful shade. The air smelled heavily of drugs, and the butterflies fluttering past your eyes were nothing more than the illusion of a bullet aimed directly at your brain.

✙◇ Chapter 3 -: ✧ :-゜・．

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ { Tuesday — May 07, 2019 } ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Sixty years before the world ended. Right on the day of someone’s birthday. Heavy, tall buildings stood all over the city. Birds were still chirping, though. Somewhere up high, an eagle kept watch. Just watching.

A girl stood right on the edge of the bridge. Absolute desperation on her face, her hands shaking hard against the cold iron railing. Her mind was a total fog, ears ringing with loud chaos—even though the road tonight was dead quiet. No traffic.

No signs of life at all, except for the town lamps glowing in the dark.

"I... I'm tired... So tired... Just end this, please... please..."

"I'm sorry, Father..." she whispered. Her legs shook as she pulled her weight up and over the metal bar.

A sudden, sharp wind cut past. The soft fabric of her dress snapped in the breeze. Her face looked completely empty. Dead. Worn out. Dark, heavy bags under her eyes told the whole story of what she’d been through.

Slowly. No rush at all. She lifted her toes off the edge. Her vision was blurry; she wasn't thinking straight anymore. Scars and old wounds covered her skin, her hair dry and ruined.

One last breath. Heavy. Then, she let go, dropping straight down.

Across the bridge, hidden back in the trees, a woman stood. Watching. Just like that eagle. Her eyes tracked the girl's falling body from the second she left the railing until she hit the dark below.

A hard fall. A brutal impact. Splash. The body broke into the water under the bridge.

Silence came back. The woman’s footsteps made no sound in the dark as she moved down the path.

The exact moment the body hit the water, the woman was already standing right at the edge of the riverbank. She didn't jump in to save her. Didn't even touch the water.

Instead, she dragged a machine forward. A tool built to haul things up from the deep water. Before a single drop of blood or river water could fall back down, the girl's lifeless body was shoved hard into a thick plastic bag. Sealed tight with heavy tape. The inside walls were slick, coated in a thick, oily liquid.

She had a plan. A clean, cold plan.

No rush. Only a calm, slow movement to her hands.

Under the moonlight, the river water began to shift. The bacteria, the shedding DNA from the body—completely gone.

The woman used a liquid that worked to erase every single trace. Not a single strand of hair stayed caught in the current. The blood vanished into the water so cleanly that nobody would ever notice a thing.

Even carrying that heavy plastic bag up from the bridge, her breathing stayed even. Ninety steps back to her car. Every single step was counted out on purpose.

No footprints left behind. None. She moved like a ghost.

Exactly ninety steps from the water, she swung the bag over her shoulder. But she left a mark on purpose. A distinct drag trail on the dirt for those ninety steps. And it wasn't just the outline of a bag—it was the head. She purposely dragged the body upside down, letting the skull scrape the ground to leave a specific trail before she finally used her strength to lift it.

She walked back up the exact path she used. Stepping right into her own previous tracks. She wore heels heavily modified with tape, the soles topped with a piece shaped exactly like a cat's paw. The entire time, she had been walking weirdly—never letting the main sole touch the ground, balancing entirely on her heel bone.

An awkward, limping stride all the way to her car.

She threw the body into the back seat. Behind her, sitting right on top of the bridge railing, a pair of glowing eyes cut through the dark. A black cat. Watching her in dead silence, its tail swaying slowly.

Meow~

Without waiting, she got into the driver's seat and drove off. The night wind whipped past the car as it glinted under the moon. Everything inside that vehicle was full of mystery. Just like the woman behind the wheel.

Lavender eyes. Cold. Holding absolutely nothing for the world to see.