DEIMOS
we've all got blood on our hands
something somewhere had to die
so we could stay alive
There were a multitude of things to do – and still the man was listless, dragged down into the murky, webbed melancholy, drifting languidly from place to place. At one point, out of habit and routine, he’d marched to the barracks to survey the damage, if any, caused by the monsters’ onslaughts – only to cease, desist. He wasn’t the General any longer; a council dissolved the moment Rexanna perished, and Evie took hold, and a familiar ache loomed then and there all the more. Another thing lost, ranks he’d cherished, opportunities he’d enjoyed. LongNight had a way of taking multitudes of things, pressing and crushing and pulverizing, and then retreating when the sun came up, leaving the rest of the world to recover from its mire and ruin. He hadn’t figured out how yet.The piercing slate of his gaze took one last look at the door, stifling a sigh, when he glanced upon a note pinned there, his name addressed. Taking it, jaw clenched for the consternation and trepidation of something else altogether – another threat looming, another disaster plunging – only to tilt his head when it was a summons from Evie, for the Underground.
So he maneuvered in that direction, the uncertainty presiding steadfast in his mind, and he placed that foremost in his skull instead of memories collected like little fragments there too – Emmett’s death, found in the endless pathways of the labyrinth, Rexanna’s pride, sharing furtive secrets, exchanging daggers and knives.
Eventually, maybe everything would turn into ghosts.
He found her near the entrance, familiar crimson hair apparent through the cluster of ruins and rubble. “Evie,” was a low rumble, an announcement of his presence – wishing there were better circumstances involved now, a volley of throwing knives, a reel of practice and skill.
