Chapter Text
She averted her gaze from the paper pamphlet in her hands.
Printed on it was a flashy title boldly announcing "paradise city" Its neon font as vibrant as the photo below it, streets teeming with locals and lush trees, neat to the point of looking sterile.
The paragraph accompanying it promises low crime rates, an eco-conscious community, and a safe environment for children. Everything a doe eyed house hunter could dream of and more.
But even still, the most alluring part was the state issued paid residence, $10,000 up front paired with a cozy house for a mandatory 5-year stay, no strings attached. The simple explanation for such charity being the problem of a declining population, surely the appeal of big cities and fancy living had driven the young crowd away.
Surely.
This is what she had thought, until approximately half an hour ago. In the short drive from the entrance, the faint suspicion arising from the sorry state of the city sign has flared up into a state of pure panic. In front of her, a house so delapitated that it in itself triggered her fight or flight response.
And yet she couldn't look away from it, as behind her was a city so vile and bewildering she feared what she'd witness if she looked back.
She had allready seen enough from the drive to here, the town had the charm of an abandoned trailer park and the kind of smell you could assign to a medieval time street if you didn't know any better.
Worst of all, the people seemed to be completely disconnected from reality, dancing in the street undeterred by the honking of her car, mindless yelling, and open physical violence. People's apparent disinterest in these oddities spoke volumes about their frequency.
Getting sick of the building's ugly stained walls, she tosses the pamphlet and grabs her keys. Sounds of the squeaky doorknob accompany the first look into the interior, ugly stained walls.
As well as a foldable chair.
"Jesus Christ"
But he didn't answer. Left alone in the barren house, too defeated to unload her possessions from the car and too overwhelmed to process the reality of her situation, she picks a dimly lit corner, and curls down.
Six o'clock never seemed like a better time for sleep.