Chapter Text
My world was full of fire. I'd almost swear the red embers were flowing in my bloodstream, but even if it was I wouldn't be able to tell anyone how it feels. I've been on the run for a while now, a few months at least, flaming anything or one in my wake. Obviously I'm not too reckless. Ill only do what I need to do to survive. Or avoid a one-way ticket to an asylum. Right. Thats a thing too.
By now my face has been broadcasted and shared, there's people across the Midwest looking for me in every small town arsonist hole. Needless to say its a bit more than difficult to get around without being spotted. But a mans gotta eat. I haven't stocked up in weeks, robbing cars in the grocery store parking lot was definitely not the way to go.
Throwing my ratty backpack into the passenger's seat of my truck, whatever it is I have no idea, the poor guy who was driving it before me didn't have the decency to leave the registration in the glovebox. Weirdo. Deep breaths and paper face mask at the ready, I gotta tackle the food issue, it's time to move locations again.
The gas station on the side of the highway seemed easy enough, dingy cameras and only two working pumps. One of which was occupied by a beaten up blazer, even more so than my shit tank. The girl behind the counter doesn't seem to mind my presence much, honestly probably unaware of me all together. Her phone pressed to her cheek and red eyes are signal enough for me.. still, best to be careful rather than make a scene.
Quickly stuffing whatever dry foods will fit in my pockets, some of which are hidden on the inside of my hoodie. Once my pants and pockets are full to my content, I take a quick glance at the round mirror on the ceiling above me, which is promising enough signal it's time to move. The hazy woman behind the stained plexiglass divider is reaching for a walkie talkie and a stun gun. Time to bolt.
With a loud SLAM of the rusty truck doors I shove my foot on the gas, she didn't chase me off, which is probably worse than anything. Map taped to the dashboard, and radio on high, the long stretch of road ahead should lead me to a promising spot to lurk. At least camp out until I get a new vehicle.. she definitely got a good look at the truck.
Half a pack of camels and three loops of the same twenty songs later, it's time to ditch. I pull over into a slanted patch of earth and gather my shit, stuffing my bag with what I still had in my pockets. I took a half empty can of gasoline from my bag and coat the interior of the truck, tossing a match to the fumes. For good measure. My shoulder cracked behind me dragging me out of the staring contest with the flames, reminding me where I was. Right. Find a camp. The long stretch of trees and rough land should go deep enough to avoid the locals at least, he cops at best.
The forest floor was thick and wet, the welcoming smell of earth, partnered by the oh so familiar stench of rot following every step. The deeper I get the less and less man made patchy trails I see. The bugs I could do without, gnats falling victim to the involuntary jerks of my body, the rest of the wild life darting after the clicks and whistles that follow. If there was any wildlife, I haven't heard a thing since I stepped foot in here, probably over hunted...
Settling by a thin stream a safe amount of miles behind me, I have a place to set up camp for the night.. and wash myself off. Other than the thick odor of gasoline that clung to my gloves and hoodie, the build up from weeks of dirt, mud, weeds, and gore was more than getting to me. and the wounds probably need cleaned.....
anyways.
Peeling the thick layers of water-proof patches from my cheek and the thin layers of bandage from my knuckles, I get myself down to the water and strip my remaining clothes. The water felt nice, the flow of the current against my skin was a greatful relief. Not a clue or a care about the temperature, I dunk myself in as deep as I can. The thin stream only went about waist high, but it's better than nothing. Much better than dirt. Taking to the gaping wound In my cheek, I cringe at the texture and reflection in the water, of the pus and dead skin falling from my face with minimal effort. Definitely some kind of an infection, but there's nothing I can do about it out here.
After changing back into my T-shirt and pants, I dunk my hoodie in the stream, cleaning the stench as best as possible, gloves following suit. No matter how hard I focus I swear I can feel someone watching me. Keeping my hands in close proximity of my sharper ax, I lay the hoodie on a nearby rock to dry. I'm probably just paranoid, the shadows won't go away without some kind of Haloperidol, it's just another shadow.
sure enough, I lay out the dingy tarp, courtesy of the truck, out on the grass. The best I can do for one night is pray a coyote dosent eat me in my sleep. Then again, I wouldn't mind so much right now. Just as I get comfortable on my crinkling tarp-
Fuck.
I really have to piss. I keep forgetting..
Of fucking course. Reluctantly getting up and moving back to the stream, opposite of the rock this time, I sigh to nobody but myself and the stars. Snap! my neck jolts back followed quickly by a whistle.
Snap!
I whip my head around. That one wasn't me. Quickly fixing my pants I slowly work myself back to the tarp reaching for an ax, never taking my eyes off the treeline... Silence. I work my way closer, preparing myself mentally to slice a bear or a fox- SNAP!!
Something has my ankle and I'm quickly in the air, upside down from a tree. My neck jerks and I scream. "Wha-t th-the fuck-!!"
Silence.
"Who t-the fuck is t-that I know You'r-re in t-ther-e!!"
Snap.
I watch as two figures slowly emerge from the brush, one in an almost feminine white mask, the other in a black ski hat type mask, a red frown painted? On. The frowning one is wielding a camera on his shoulder, pointed up at me. Neither of them utter a word.
"Let-t me fucking down!" My tongue clicks and I squirm, attempting to swing my ax at the rope attached to my foot, neither of the beings react or say a word, silent stares. "C'mon at-t leas-st fucking say somet-thing!!" Of course, neither of them answered. The white masked figure moved to the base of the tree, the others camera following his movement. I felt a gush of wind as I fell, the rope suddenly gaining slack. This is it, this is how I die.
Thunk.
And the world around me started to dim, mutters between the two barely manageable to be heard, the camera down at me and both men over top peering down.
"Walk…….op…..cussion…"
black.