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A Rotting Eden
300 years after the Apocalypse came and went, the survivors join wandering gangs called Tribes in a bid for survival in a world without nations. This is the story of one man's struggle in one of the last remaining cities on Earth.
Aramis woke up, but refused to open his eyes.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp The very first thing that came to his mind was how strangely cold he felt. The breeze from a no doubt opened window licked his naked shoulders and chilled the thin layer of sweat that clung there. After that initial sensation, things slowly began to file in order withing his memory; he could recall seeing Punishment the day before and taking up on his offer to have a drink at the local bar. He could recall the half-coherent stumbling up the inn stairs, the blind fumbling for the door handle and the vague idea of locking the damned thing with a key he'd so merrily displaced in the pile of clothes heaped upon the floor. His body still tingled with pain in certain prefferably unnaped places, and he could feel the weight of another person beside him in bed. Or was his mind simply playing tricks on him? He wasn't sure.

&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp His eyes still shut, he walked his fingers over the blankets and searched for Punishment's hand.

&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Aramis held his breath in the darkness, hoping... praying... pleading with whatever god was above him that Punishment was still there, that he didn't get up and walk out sometime during the night when he was still asleep.

&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp And so, Aramis lifted his hand and just before it was to fall down beside him, he felt Punishment slide out of the bed and stand up. He listened as Punishment dressed himself, fixed his hair in the bathroom, and walked out of the door, careful at least to close the door quietly so as not to wake him. He was thankful of that small measure of respect, if nothing more. Aramis listened for Punishment's footsteps, attentive to the sound they made as they clomped down the stairs and faded from earshot. He bit his lip and whispered inadible pleas for Punishment to come back. Please, he thought, getting up and going to the window just in time to see Punishment walk out of the inn. Please come back. Please, please come back. Give me a chance... just one chance is all I ask, one chance... But no amount of pleading would bring Punishment back. He knew that. He was just wasting his time. Still yet, breathing shallowly so as to stave off the tears that threatened to stream down his face if he became too reckless, Aramis dressed himself, sat down at the edge of the bed and waited for Punishment to come back. He didn't care how long it would take. He just wanted to make sure he'd be there when Punishment came back. After all, he made that promise to him long ago, and if there was one thing about Aramis that everyone knew...

...It was that he never broke his promises.


Bleeding Apocalypse
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  • User Comments: [1]
    Aw, such devotion...

    comment BallisticsJello · Community Member · Tue Jun 20, 2006 @ 11:11pm
    User Comments: [1]

     
     
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