Chapter 10: Colons Exist For A Reason
A nightmare.
Alena stood in a room so dark it felt alive. "Where am I----" Her voice dissolved into the void.
At the center of the darkness, a man sat at a grand piano, his face marred by scars.
Burned into his left cheek, she noticed, were the numbers 312.
His fingers danced over the black keys, weaving a melody that felt... yeah quite... off. Yet, she couldn't stop listening.
The room held more souls than just that man.
Alena noticed it when her eyes caught movement in the far-left corner. A girl crouched there, half-hidden in the gloom. She had long hairs, matted strands over her face, and in her hand, she was holding a hammer.
Burned into her forearm were the numbers 405.
Slowly, the girl stepped forward.
She approached the piano and raised the hammer high above her head.
Then.... brought it crashing down onto the instrument's surface. The haunting melody cut off instantly. The sharp clang reverberated through the room like a drumbeat.
And then she struck again. And again.
Clang. Clang.
The sound echoed in Alena's skull.
She looked closer and gasped. The hammer wasn't just striking the piano.
It was hitting something soft. Something that bled.
A pale hand rested on the piano's edge. its fingers twitched with each strike, blood spilling over the black-and-white keys.
The man at the piano smiled. Without hesitation, he began to play again, faster this time, mixing the hammer's rhythm into his melody.
Alena felt like her head was about to burst, she whispered, "Stop it."
403 girl froze mid-swing and slowly turned her head toward Alena. Shadows cloaked her face, leaving it obscured. Alena's breath hitched. She couldn't see her features... just the faint outline.
"Who is she?" Alena murmured.
Then her gaze shifted, drawn to another corner of the room. A woman...middle-aged, standing rigidly.
And then without warning, the woman raised her hand, and the sickening sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the air.
A child knelt beneath her, silent and unmoving, as if resigned to the blows.
Alena was disgusted. She stared at the child, "Is that… me? Or…"
She couldn't tell. As she stepped closer, dread clawed at her chest. The truth became clear....neither the woman nor the child had a face.
Then she heard some heavy breathings.
It came from the walls themselves, pulsating as if alive....
And from above, a dark liquid began to drip slowly. Thick and sluggish like blood. It splattered onto the floor in twisted patterns. Patterns that, to her horror, resembled screaming faces.
The man at the piano continued to play, his fingers now impossibly fast. His melody grew louder, overpowering the room, suffocating her, and then.....
And then he sang.
"Oh, the skate died ~ he saw how the world might ~ be boring, black and white…"
The tune was there, but the voice... distorted as if it came from multiple mouths. After he sang one line, he started laughing. It was the kind of laughter that could stop a heart.
403 joined in, hammering the piano harder. Blood sprayed with each strike, feeding the melody's madness.
"Nooo... NOOOO..." Alena screamed, but her voice drowned in the cacophony.
Alena turned her gaze away, desperate to escape, only to see HER.
In the far-left corner stood another girl, covered in shadow.
Alena moved toward her, a gnawing desperation in her chest.
"Who are you?" she asked, "Why's no body answering me? What's up with these numbers. Talk.."
The man's laughter erupted again, before twisting back into his warped melody.
"But you see, a man's eyes ~ saw some gray wings psssst… Phhha ha haha! A man's eyes.. Hahaha..."
The laugh fractured into a scream—a sound stretched beyond sanity.
Alena turned back to the girl, her breath catching in her throat.
Burned into the girl's throat were the numbers 101.
And then....perhaps....yeah perhaps it was a trick of the shadows.... but she saw it.
Alena could swear on her life…
That girl was smiling.
——————---
"Alena... wake up. Alena!"
Kostas's voice pulled her from the nightmare. Alena jolted awake, gasping for air as her eyes focused on his silhouette standing over her.
"Alena... where's Kate?"
She froze... she was trying to process his question.
"I asked, where's Kate?" he demanded.
"What... What do you mean? She's in her room!"
Kostas yelled at her, "No, she isn't. isn't she your responsibility? what the fuck were you doing sleeping here so calmly?"
Alena's fear curdled into anger. "You think I was sleeping calmly? I was fucking terrified-"
Kostas cut her off. "Yeah, no one asked. Go check the room."
She hated him, every fiber of his being. But an instinct... primal and unyielding...forced her legs to move.
She bolted to Kate's room. The door swung open, and Alena..... she saw something she didn't expect.
The bed was empty.
"No, no, no, no..." The words stumbled from her lips, her voice cracking under the weight of panic. "It... it can't... Kate!"
"Fuckkk!" she screamed.
Kostas had already started searching the house, his movements sharp with urgency. Alena remained frozen, her mind a storm of fragmented thoughts.
Her eyes quickly darted to the clock—11:00. Each tick was a thunderclap, loud.. really loud.
Then, something caught her eye.
The hammer. It leaned against the bed, glinting faintly in the light.
"Why... why is it here?" Her voice wavered, her breath shallow, "It was with me a while ago. Why-"
And... she saw it.
Kate's wheelchair beside her bed.
Dark stains streaked the seat.... blood, glistening and wet.
A scream escaped from Alena's chords, shattering every trace of silence in the house.
Meanwhile
A bus rumbled down Sector 21, the soft crackle of an old radio filling the air with its melody. The tune was almost otherworldly, as it echoed faintly through the bus:
"Oh, the skate died ~ he saw how the world might ~ be boring, black and white…
But you see, a man's eyes ~ saw some gray wings ~ running by..."
Suddenly, the bus screeched to a halt. A jeep skidded to a stop ahead. The door opened to reveal Harry. He stepped out with calculated ease.
Troopers followed him, as well as Kamala, but it was only Harry who moved towards the bus, his eyes scanning the passengers as he approached. The others waited by the jeep, watching closely.
"Where's this bus going?" Harry asked.
"Sector 11," the driver replied.
Harry looked at his companions and let out a small sigh, "Yeah... that's the border to the next country. That motherfucker wants to leave, huh?"
He turned to the passengers, "Listen up! There's an intruder among all of you. We're looking for him. Stay seated. Don't try hiding."
His hand hovered near the pistol at his side. "Get out of your seats. Now."
The air inside the bus grew thick with tension, but no one moved.
Harry's voice dropped, softer but more insistent. "Look, you're only gonna make things worse for yourselves. I'm the good guy here. These guys outside? They're brutal. They won't care. They'll kill all of you without hesitation. So please, get out of the crowd-- "
Before he could finish, a man in the back of the bus stood up, his eyes wide with wild intent. Without warning, he lunged at Harry.
A shot rang out.
Harry didn't even have time to think before the man was stumbling back, clutching his bleeding arm. The bus fell into silence.
Harry knew immediately who he was. His lips barely moved, a whisper escaping his throat, "Lobo."
Lobo grinned as he backed away and then... He kicked Harry hard, sending him sprawling out of the bus and onto the pavement. The troopers, unflinching in their precision, made no move to intervene.
Harry groaned in pain, struggling to push himself to his knees. Lobo on the other hand, grabbed the radio disc from that radio and gave the driver a mocking smile.
"I like this song," Lobo said.
With a quick motion, Lobo leapt out of the bus.
In an instant, his body began to shift...
his bones cracking and contorting....
And he transformed into
Something monstrous....something that couldn't belong in this world.....
A massive werewolf.
The troopers, now fully engaged, surged forward, weapons drawn. But Lobo was already gone, faster than they could react.
Kamala, watching from a distance, sighed and turned to Harry. "Are you okay?"
Harry, still on the ground, winced in pain. "You all didn't even come to help. Fuck you."
Kamala raised an eyebrow, "It's good to see you've grown some spine. Try using it with force next time. Now get up. We have to chase him."
She looked over at the driver, her tone suddenly more direct. "What did he take from you?"
The driver hesitated, still dazed by the chaos. "A disc."
Kamala : "A disc?"
Driver : "Yeah. Oh, the skate died... he saw how the world might... be boring, black and white…
But you see, a man's eyes... saw some gray wings... running by..."
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