Inked Wings
Seventh Event

Seventh Event - Runaways

“There are ways to survive in a real world. I have forgotten some of them now. However, one thing is certain: you who are currently reading these words, will survive.”

Daytime appears oddly realistic in MORTEM District.

Noel skips the busy streets, there are cameras. He does not replace the restricted alleyways convenient either. Therefore, he decides to fit through the crevices between tall buildings. Luckily, the suburban side of the district is not as heavily packed with surveillance.

Raindrops decorate the sky, never touching the ground. After all, they are a mere illusion. Noel remembers the fact but still gawks in awe at the shift of said atmosphere. From blue it turns to a canvas tinted with sunlight. The sudden coldness and the glass rain add to it, said canvas then complete with the astronomically large rainbow appearing in the sky.

Noel breathes through his mask; the steam fading as soon as he closes his mouth. All the walking finally catches up to him. His feet hurt. His waist is sore.

His mental state is chained and his emotions are being restrained.

“Locked up in a waterfall tower, they, dissipating in the water.” The tears Noel does not allow to gather.

A park meets him.

“Closed” is written in the hologram gate. The blue trees, artificially made, sway.

A sudden breeze. Noel freezes, his guts are turning in his stomach.

In the corner, a figure stares him down. Tales, throat covered and still slit, waves. A still palm, falling beside the chains strapped to her thigh.

“The hunter Angel mentioned,” Noel figures.

Feet quick, he bolts in the opposite direction and then takes a hard left. Left. Right.

He jumps out into the main street. A tram is passing by.

Heart in his neck, Noel hops in it.

People gift him ugly looks. He walks through the crowd, to finally reach the other end of the cart.

His chest hurts, body unnerved.

‘I’m gonna die...’ Noel mouths.

The buildings slowly pass by, the rainbow is fading away. Starlight falls on Noel now and again. He checks his surroundings, hood on. There are others with the same look, but Noel decides against following them. It is not that Noel does not know what to do; the matter is that too many ideas come of which he considers inefficient in the end.

He thinks the cart is too slow. A new urgency is born from said thought.

On impulse, he jumps off the cart a bit too early. He stumbles and hits a pole.

‘Argh, stupid!’ He cries out.

One hand clutches his shoulder while his wobbly walk gets him inside a mini market. The lights there directly contrast the warm colors outside.

The cashier pays him no mind, entranced by their media drama.

Noel recoils. The lanes are a maze of cheap products locked up in glass boxes. He passes them, looking over his shoulder once in a while. He pulls on the mask, his fingers quivering.

The store’s windows are dirty enough to block sixty percent of Noel’s vision.

His feet tremble.

She is there, between the spots of acid damaged glass.

Tales is watching him, stopped in place. She looks different, a jacket veiled in waves of black hair. Still, the chains are apparent.

Noel recognises them fast. He carries himself confidently, he is carefully searching for an exit.

Hope installs in his heart. While he roams, he keeps checking on her.

Same spot, she bothers not to move.

Noel can tell something is off.

There is a back entrance but it is an obviously painful, wrong choice. That is why he raises his head and looks for one way out through the roof.

Noel jumps, his heart drops.

Rapid, loud steps bolt within earshot.

Noel’s head frantically jerks left and right. When his gaze falls back on Tales, the sound cuts off.

Silence settles in.

Noel’s breathing becomes heavy.

The screens and signs interrupt, all soon showcasing a too familiar image.

It is hazy.

‘How the shit?’ Noel blurts out.

Heart throbs.

Ade. Abi’s face appears on the screens.

Sounds turn into echoes inside Noel’s mind, ignoring the cashier’s confused mumbles.

Ade’s smile. Cuts.

A blue flash of light transitions to his ruined head. To his bloody hairs, which are falling over the hole in his forehead.

The back door swings wide open. Noel storms out of there with a sharp exhale.

He wants to scream. He wants to curse.

He is too afraid for that. Too emotionally stunned to really process what happens to him next:

Sheer force pulls Noel back, swinging him around and throwing him into the nearest wall. As if gravity has no say, he flies one second to crash the next.

His body deflects. His back goes numb against the wall, then he falls flat on his side. Jolts of his feet snap him out of the initial adrenaline rush.

Noel gasps for air, only to fall into a series of uneven breaths.

He is choking on his spit. The tears form, which he sucks back in.

Eight-six hovers above him, her face mask still damaged. Tales lands next to her like a feather. She says: ‘Don’t play with him too hard.’

Noel’s head is buzzing.

‘We need General Kin’ to see what a grave mistake he made to discard us. You will get to scar this one after.’

Eight-six shakes her hands and head. ‘Because of this little brat, one of ours is in an undefined coma.’

‘No.’ Tales strokes her little sister’s braids. ‘Dove -’ Her mask turns off.

Noel groans and rolls on his stomach. Doctor’s mask hits the ground with a snapping.

‘Rebellion’s Dove will pay for that.’ Her braids swing to Noel’s eyes, her head turning to him. ‘Starting with this one.’

Her kick knocks Noel out cold.