Hello! I'm Sorry For Not Posting This Week. I've Had So Many Ideas Just No Motivation To Go With It.
Hello! I'm sorry for not posting this week. I've had so many ideas just no motivation to go with it. I'll try to post next week or earlier if I can.
Also, I found this amazing Cicada charm yesterday, and I now feel compelled to add it to my Tang designs.
More Posts from Justanotherblogger and Others
Hi 👋, My name is Mona, and I’m reaching out to you in a moment of dire need. I’m a mother of two young children living in Gaza, caught in the middle of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here looks increasingly uncertain. 💔I launched a fundraising campaign with a goal of raising $20,000 to move my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was closed without explanation. However, I remain determined to continue fighting for the safety and well-being of my family. 🫶If you can take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️🩹https://gofund.me/37eaacd6
Hello dear friends, 🌟
I'm Mahmoud Jihad from Gaza. My family and I have lost everything—our home, my university, all of it. Now, we find ourselves living in a flimsy tent after losing everything. I was studying Information Technology and supporting my family, but now we are left with nothing. 😔
We are enduring unimaginable destruction and desperately need your help to survive. 😭 Even a small donation can make a huge difference. Every single contribution is a spark of hope in this dark time. ✨
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You can make a difference by supporting us through this GoFundMe link: https://gofund.me/463cbf01
From the depths of our hearts, thank you. Let's rebuild our lives together. 🙏❤️
Thank you so much for your generosity and support!
Your donations will directly help us in rebuilding our lives. Thank you again for your kindness and generosity! 🌹
Help my family to get out and sea for what is left of life. The war is devastating. Death is approachin every person and destruction is everywhere. We hope that there is hope before it is too late.
A World Without Him
Chapter 15
The ground was covered in dust and dead grass; it scratched against Tang's face as he tried to block everything out. I just had to get attacked back there. Just had to be the only one conscious. I just had to stumble back to this place after all of my efforts.
His hair had been released from the hair tie for a while now, which made his hair cascade in front of his face and back. It worked like a buffer from him and the crowd, but it was uncomfortable to have it get tangled with the dead brush beneath him. He groaned as he banged his head into the ground with what little strength he had left, causing guns to clink together as the crowd flinched.
After a few seconds, the whispers and steps of the crowd suddenly started to get louder, like they were parting for something to get through. Although, Tang could care less at the moment as he was completely exhausted from basically everything. The blood on his arms and upper lip have dried to a point where it started to flake and crack on his skin. He really didn't like the feeling.
He couldn't even lift his head as heavy footsteps approached him and Zach’s bodies, the crowd of people around them quieting down as they grew closer to them. A large, calloused hand hauled him off the ground by his left arm, forcing Tang onto his wobbly feet.
His legs almost immediately gave out from beneath him, but the guy who picked him up quickly caught him by the shoulders. With his head falling forward, Tang’s hair fell in front of his face, full of dust and dead grass as it obscured his vision along with his cracked lense. It seemed longer than he remembered…
“This is gonna cause something awful…” The guy holding him up grumbled to himself before carefully grabbing Tang’s wrists and tying a long piece of rough rope around them. He left a long piece of rope between Tang’s wrists, maybe for better mobility or something to grab onto if he tried to run (he doubted he would get even 2 feet in his current state, even without the rope). It scratched against the dried blood uncomfortably.
Tang almost collapsed again after the ordeal was over, but he was caught yet again and had his right arm thrown over the guy’s back as they started to move. Tang's feet dragged across the ground as the guy walked slowly to somewhere he couldn't guess. He heard someone else walk over and presumably grab Zach as he heard the dead grass rustle and more heavy steps join and start to walk beside them.
Looking out of the small slivers of light between his hair, he could see Zach's head facing the sky as he was held princess style by a built soldier, if he were to guess by the heavily defined arms and uniform the person was wearing. However, he couldn't look long as the campfires around them died down and left most of the area in darkness.
Tang closed his eyes, letting his head drop fully, hoping that wherever these people were taking him would be far, far away from that demon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Orange filled his vision; a familiar color from his last dream. But now he no longer floated, laying face first on a cold hard floor similar to concrete. He sighed heavily.
‘What have you gotten yourself into already, little cicada?’
Tang didn't bother looking up. “Cian…” He mumbled with distaste. Silence overcame the void. Then, a small hum was all he heard before soft footsteps approached him. A thin hand soon grabbed his shirt and lifted him up with ease, making them face to face. It held a cocky grin as it looked down on him.
‘Now what’s with that tone? I think I deserve some recognition for getting you out safe and sound.’ It said as its grin grew wider.
It seemed taller than him now, at least a good couple of inches. Tang ignored this and pushed its hand away, stumbling only slightly as he landed. “W-What's happening? Why am I here again? Why did you save us? Probably to get something from me. What did you do while I was out?” He rambled on accusingly, pointing his index finger into its chest.
Its expression never wavered. ‘And to think I thought you would have been thankful, groveling at my feet for saving your cowardly self and the dead weight you brought along.’ It sarcastically replied, grabbing Tang's hand off its chest and pulling him closer by the wrist with the bell.
A cold sweat went down Tang’s neck. “I-I know you have ulterior motives! Just w-what do you want with me to make a deal for? And how did we even get away from that demon in the first place?” He lost a bit of steam as he continued, pushing himself away from Cian as he grit his teeth nervously.
This got a reaction, with Cian's eye twitching in annoyance. ‘Don't worry about the semantics. All that matters is that this deal we made has me protecting your feeble body to the best of my ability.’
This didn't comfort him one bit. Tang nervously picked at the end of his stained scarf. “And what does that exactly entail? I've read enough stories with the warnings and consequences of taking those types of vague deals at face value. N-Now I ask again, what do you want with me, really?” He asked, a bit unsure of himself.
It only sighed, letting its grin finally fall as its voice started to grate. ‘Why are you still questioning me? I explained our deal. It's not like I can hurt you in any meaningful way.’ It started to walk closer, the color underneath them rippling from its steps.
‘I know you need me. You know you need me. And now that you've been dragged back into this place? You'll need my assistance now more than ever.’ Now it's only a foot away from him, yet it didn't feel overwhelming. Like it was purposely keeping itself in check.
Tang's brow creased in thought, thinking over what he should say next. “Well, y-your right. I do need your help here, especially since I don't have my friends around to protect me anymore… Maybe that's a good thing. Uh… hey wait!” He suddenly shouted, stars appearing in his eyes as he tried to push down his dread.
“Can't you teach me how to harness my powers like what you did back in the forest? I don't exactly know what you did in the first place, but some protection while your not around would be-”
‘NO.' It growled immediately, squinting its eyes as the ground shook and its clothes and hair flew in all sorts of directions. 'The pure power that's inside you would tear your body to shreds before you could even try to cast anything useful. Even if you now possess my abilities like they're your own, you’d have to face over 15 years of body conditioning to harness even a tenth of it effectively.’
It spoke with wavering conviction, turning its head to the side as if to avoid Tang's gaze. The sudden reaction from Cian shook him up a bit, but he couldn't even reply before Cian decided to speak up again.
‘Our deal is set. I'll do everything I can to protect your body, so I'll try my best to strengthen myself now that we're bound. I will be there to protect you from anything coming your way, so you don't need to give away years of your life for something as simple as glamor or similar cowardly tricks.’ It leaned down over him as it spoke, making sure Tang couldn't ignore what it said.
He could only nod quickly at Cian's words, letting it lean away from him once more. Tang let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, then looked back to Cian, too tired for anymore banter. “Can you at least tell me when you're going to show up, or basically do whatever you did back at the road? I would just like some clarification-”
All of a sudden, the air felt like it was knocked out of his lungs. He clutched his stomach as he dropped to his knees, trying to gulp for air as Cian gasped at his display. He coughed as slivers of air were finally gifted to him before being drawn back out by an unknown force, his vision blinking in and out from his dream.
‘What the hell are those mortals doing!? Th__ m__t be g__ng ___!’ He could barely hear Cian's shocked remarks as the cycle continued. Bits of air entered his lungs before they were taken away violently, taking longer and longer in giving him release. He could barely hold himself up before he fell to the ground with Cian standing over him as the last thing he saw before blacking out… weird that this could happen in a dream…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His eyes shot open. Gray walls, metal table and chair with his wrists tied to a ring on the table, a hand holding his head harshly. Those were the things he could make out before starting to violently cough over everything, heaving as he bent over his stomach and gasped in all the air he could.
His top half was soaked with what he hoped was water and his face and arms felt sore as he continued to cough; the hand on his head never moved, as to make sure he couldn't even move on his own. After what seemed like hours, Tang could finally breathe again, his body shaking as he tried to make sure he didn't hyperventilate or throw up.
“Good. You're finally awake filth.” A harsh voice sounded from behind him, most likely male from how deep it was. His hair was soaked as it hung over his eyes and obscured his vision, so he couldn't look at the guy as he let go of his head and walked to the other side of the table.
After another moment to catch his breath, Tang slowly brought his hands to his face, parting the hair and throwing it over his shoulders. A dim room met him, with two people sitting in front of him across the table. He couldn't Make much out of them, but he could see a bucket of water on the table. He's interrupted before he could see any more.
“Now, let's let go of the pleasantries. You are in Human territory, and we don't know how our blind spots have been leaked to someone like you. If you tell us your source, we will keep you prisoner and won't execute you after this interrogation.” A different voice, one more feminine but holds more authority and wrath than the other.
“W… what?” Tang asked slowly, tilting his head to one side to make sure it didn't fall forward from his exhaustion. A very bright light suddenly shot into his eyes, causing him to flinch back.
“We know this place is secure on all sides. How did you enter camp without our scouts detecting you? Tell us how your side got this information and we won't put your head on a spike out in town square. Those demon bastards really thought they could send a spy into our camp? HA! Do they really think that low of the Bellfield troop!?” The guy cackles out, clearly not in the best head space if Tang had to guess.
“Calm down, lieutenant. We still need what it has to offer. Now, who gave you the information on how to sneak in here? Even if you did a rather shoddy job at the stuff after the infiltration, you must be pretty high up the food chain if you got delivered this kind of info.”
Tang suddenly shot up in his chair. “Wait what?! Who do you think I am!? Me and Zach got attacked on the way here by a demon with red eyes a-and this was the closest place I could remember to go!”
The light tilted away from his eyes, letting him see the faces of his captors. One had long, straight red hair tied in a ponytail and sat right across from Tang. She had sharp eyes and was probably the one who’s in charge. The other was a guy with short loss and a big snarl on his face. He seemed aggressive towards Tang for whatever they think he is and stood next to Red Hair, leaning on one hand over the table.
“And why do you think we'll believe you? You showed up out of nowhere, got past all of our defenses, have an unconscious body over you and are covered in demon blood.” Red Hair said in a cool tone, staring into Tang's eyes as he shrunk back.
“Then why would I put in all that work just to get captured?! That’s not even my blood anyways! I don't know who you people are, but if I really was whatever you say I am, why would I let myself be taken? That would just be a big waste of time and energy on your part. I couldn't even stand!” Tang was starting to get annoyed at how little they seemed to trust him. He leaned back in his chair and started looking away from those people to steel his nerves and control how much he was already shaking.
They shared a look before Aggressive Guy stood up straight and took a pocket knife out of his uniform pocket. Tang paled at the notion as the guy walked towards him. “WAIT! Hey, I'm innocent! Just check my story with Zach’s and it'll all make sense since I don't have anything on me and Zach is just a guy I met today on complete accident! Please you gotta believe me I'm not who you think I am and OW!”
The guy aggressively took Tang’s arm, rolled up the sleeve and sliced just above the elbow. Tang screamed at the attack, seeing the blood drip out and onto the floor. Red Hair brought over a cup of something to gather the blood, shining UV light over the mix before sitting back down with Aggressive Guy following.
“You're not a demon.” She said matter-of-factly.
“Yes?! I told you we got attacked on the back road by a demon!” He answered incredulously.
The two across from shared another look. “We will have to talk with the other person you brought here to confirm. We have had human spies before, and it's a bit too convenient for you to have wandered in here effortlessly like that, especially covered in demon blood.” Aggressive Guy spoke up, walking up next to Tang again, making the scholar brace for whatever the guy would do next.
“But, you don't seem to be a threat at the moment, given you are unarmed, dehydrated, and sleep deprived. You probably couldn't lift a water bottle if we asked you to right now. So, we'll have to keep an eye on you.” Aggressive Guy leaned down and untied the rope against his wrists, letting them fall to Tang's sides.
Red Hair spoke up after the guy finished and went back to her side. “We will put you with the cleaners near the river. You will work in the laundry tent for the food and bed that we will assign you. You aren't allowed to go anywhere without a chaperone, and we will summon you whenever we need your presence and after your friend wakes up. Remember that if you are lying about anything, you will have your cold body be thrown to the livestock. We have eyes everywhere.”
Tang felt as if he was drowning in the tension; he nodded quickly after Red Hair finished talking. She gestured for him to stand, and after he did, Aggressive Guy harshly grabbed his shoulder and led him out of the interrogation room behind Red Hair.
Outside, it was early dawn as the sun started to rise over the trees, giving Tang a better view than when he was dragged through here before. The houses all seemed rough on the outside, with big vehicles and tents scattered around every corner.
Red Hair led them through the main road they were on, going towards what seemed to be the heart of the town as they passed more and more people whispering as they got close. Looking closer, she and Aggressive Guy both wore the same brown and green uniforms, along with combat boots and guns plus knives strapped all over their bodies.
He was glad they didn't resort to using those on him, even if the place above his elbow still hurt and he could feel it start to scab.
They stopped in front of an empty fountain surrounded by supply stands, greenhouses and other buildings with people setting up for the new day. Red Hair turned to him. “Your sleeping quarters will be right behind me in tent 12. This is where we keep low level safety hazards or misbehaving soldiers. It is guarded 24/7, so don't try to think you can get out of this like how you got in. Wake up at the bell and head to building 6 beside greenhouse 2. This is where you'll work while we investigate your claims. You’ll be given a longer briefing tomorrow, as I have better things to do than list everything off to a prisoner.”
Tang’s eye twitched at that, with Aggressive Guy finally letting go of his shoulder. He was about to walk right into the tent to get away from them, but he hesitated before turning back to Red Hair. “Where is Zach being kept then? I assume he hasn't woken up yet based on what you said. Is he alright?”
Red Hair seemed annoyed at the question. “Yes, yes, your friend is fine. He's in infirmary 3 as he's recovering from some bruised ribs and other stuff. Happy?”
“Yep. Thank you.” Tang replied with a dry tone. He started to walk to his tent after that, lifting the flap and stepping inside and away from those crazies. There were about 10 single beds in there with one table each, and it seemed like no one woke up as he stepped inside. Four beds were empty, but there was one with undone sheets, so he whittled the available beds to 3.
He took the one farthest right in the back and laid down after taking his boots, scarf, and coat off. He tried to scratch the dried blood off his arms, but that only irritated his skin. He sighed quietly, putting his excess clothing and glasses under his bed in case someone tried to take them while he was asleep.
He stiffened when he heard someone sit up in their bed. They continued as they stood up from their bed and seemed to walk over to Tang from what he could hear and barely see. They stopped in front of him, silently handing him what seemed to be… a roll of gauze? Tang took it and rolled it in his hands. Yep. This is definitely gauze.
He mumbled out a thank you to the stranger, and they silently went back to bed and left Tang to his own devices. That was a little weird, but the scholar wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He quickly wrapped a bit of it over his new cut and then thought about what happened to his forearm from that demon.
He ran a hand over his right forearm, but he couldn't feel anything wrong, not even a scab. He grimaced at this. I know the slash was real from the hole in my jacket, so why can't I feel it?
He could only sigh again, knowing that he wouldn't get anywhere stewing by himself at dawn. So, he finally laid down on his bed and looked at the tent ceiling. He could hear the snores of his tent-mates and cicadas chirping from the nearby forest. The small talk of people outside and the wind blowing through the branches outside. He let the white noise guide him into sleep and then finally let himself succumb to unconsciousness as all the noise floated away.
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Hi lm hamdi lam from Gaza.lam a father for 4 children . our first goal is to reach 1,000€ please donate!! . We are still suffering from the effects of war and the loss of everything, This amount is not just a number, but a real opportunity to rebuild our lives and Help me complete my children's education and put a smile back on my children Thanks 🙏🏻
Hello!
Sorry I haven't posted anything in a while. I just didn't know what to post because I'm still waiting for my ao3 account and I haven't had anything else really interesting to post other than my aus.
I have developed more of the A Word Without Him au and have put more depth into why Tang is more self-conscious and beats himself up more.
I probably won't post anything else except maybe more Tang au dribbles until this polls duration is up because of the reasons above the poll. I do hope most of you guys are still interested in my au and can stick it out long enough for me to finally get an ao3 account.
A World Without Him
Chapter 23
Tang doesn't know how long he was trapped for, but he knows it's been long enough, and he wants out. Turns out being stuck with only your own annoying, crazy, and self deprecating thoughts starts to grate on your nerves after a couple hours(?) of nothing but earworms and existential dread coming in regularly.
He would actually prefer some of those voices that were usually here by now, even the hands around his ankles, maybe even the stupid buzzing if it could drown out his own inner voice and get him to wake up. He just couldn't stand all these thoughts and he was just so tired of this place-
A sudden burst shut him up. It was back. The energy from before had come back, zipping around, almost frantically, around him. His eyes shot open, the whiplash from nothingness to something causing his heart rate and breathing to kick into high gear.
Tang had expected the energy to disappear, to slow its pace and fall back into obscurity like before.
This was nothing like that.
The sheer presence it held took his breath away; he could barely keep himself from shaking at the image in front of him. Lights and colors he'd never seen before danced around him, combining and dividing infinity in front of his eyes. Among them, he swore he could see shapes and images flash for a moment inside the swirling cacophony; faces, places, even still frames of what he assumed were major battles were conjured then consumed by the ever-shifting mass.
It was beautiful. It was dangerous. It was powerful. He didn't know what it was. It seemed ethereal. He didn't know what it could do.
His body moved on its own, an arm reaching out towards the mass unconsciously. A small voice in his head screamed at him to stop, to back away, but his body wouldn't listen. Everything fell into the background, his eyes focussed on his hand slowly approaching disaster.
Dread filled his gut, heavy along with anticipation. When the distance finally closed, though, his hand went right through the colorful light, a warm sensation covering his palm.
He watched, transfixed, as a bright orange came from his palm, tinting the surrounding light. It started to spread, staining more and more of the mass a glittery, shimmering orange as the energy was lulled and slowed from the shift.
When he tried to pull his hand away, a sudden weight washed over his body, something similar to a weighted blanket thrown over him, slowly dragging him down in the low gravity.
It was almost unnoticeable if you weren't paying attention, but after feeling absolutely nothing for too much time, you start to notice the little things that change.
He was shocked at the feeling, how the weight seemed to increase slowly but surely. The hand touching the colorful mass was hung above his head as he descended, stuck to the orange lightshow as he seemed to drag it down with him. Another new thing. He didn't like how many were happening at once.
He tried to lift his other hand to move, his legs to kick, to move anything, but they were once again numb to his pleas. The only thing he could feel from his limbs was the warmth on his suspended hand.
The weight on his body only continued to increase as he fell, similar to the feeling of being covered in a bucket of tar, not that he would know anything about that personally…
The heavy pressure enveloped him entirely as he sunk further and further into the void's depths. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, succumbing to the ever-present weight over them as they slowly closed.
His limbs slowly started to become responsive again, similar to when they fell asleep when he passed out at the library too many times and woke up to his head on his bicep, cutting off circulation.
The tingly feeling only grew as the weight became more intense. He felt like pins and needles were constantly stuck into his skin, like a very morbid human porcupine or pin cushion.
Tang couldn't even huff at the image he’d created in his head as everything felt too heavy to move, too uncomfortable to even try.
After a while, he could feel the mass start to glow brighter, muted orange hues shining through his eyelids. To his surprise, he could feel the sparks of energy start up again, quickly detaching from his palm and swirling through the void as it circled his body.
Because of this, he almost didn't notice when he could completely feel his limbs again, how the weight over his body stopped increasing, and when his body finally collapsed onto a hard, solid, surface. He did, though, and he jolted violently at the sudden sensation, his lethargic limbs twinging at the sharp tingling feeling when his body made contact.
He was hit with an odd sense of deja vu as he tried to pull himself up from the cold, hard surface. As soon as he started to move, however, the energy circling his presence violently dispersed, the concentrated form it held earlier fracturing and scattering into specs across the void.
Tang opened his eyes in confusion, blinking away the haze that covered them. When it cleared, the smell of smoke and ash suddenly assaulted his senses. He coughed violently into his elbow, gasping for air as the surface under him seemed to… warp.
Gone was the cool, smooth surface, replaced by rough wooden planks. He could feel ash start to pile up on his skin, the course texture shifting as he tried to sit up. A harsh bump from below jostled him back onto his elbows, sending stray ash flying into the air.
He let out a frustrated huff, coughing once again as the ash burned into his throat. Back on the floor, he could feel the vibrations of motion under his legs and palms, wooden wheels traversing uneven dirt roads. The feeling was oddly familiar, making his brows crease in confusion.
Slowly rising to his knees, he settled into muscle memory, adjusting his position while he leaned on the side of the… wooden cart. Huh. I haven't been on one of these in a while.
Looking around, Tang saw what looked like a nightmare-ish version of the Bellfield square. The buildings were all wrong, starkly different from the tents, stands, and warehouses of the current bellfield. What he remembered to be well built houses and storefronts lined the square instead, either on fire or having taken significant damage as the flames roared on.
Ashes and debris lined the road, oddly far enough away for the cart to pass on by. Holes and craters lined the ground as well, pieces of the earth jutting unnaturally towards the sky.
No…
Tang knows what this place is. He knows what's happened, and has enough common sense to know that he's most likely dreaming. But everything still seems too real.
The familiar way the buildings collapsed from the inside, the way everything from the ground, walls, people had just dented and splintered apart from something no one could register. Everything was the same, down to the minute details of where the fires burned to how the breeze blew the remnants away in sweeps of ash.
Except for something.
There wasn't any blood.
He knew that people had gotten hurt that day, back when he was a boy and was… something. Whatever. It didn't matter why he was there, because what happened regardless is something he knows all too well.
He can almost imagine the mixed smell of blood, burning flesh, and smoke all too well. He gripped the side of the cart harshly, the rough wood digging into his hand. That was another thing he noticed. Why wasn't there any smoke-
*COUGH*
*COUGH COUGH*
A cloud of darkness and heat suddenly covered the cart, blanketing the entire thing, including Tang. He ducked his head as he coughed violently, the smoke worming its way into his lungs. It was overwhelming, making his eyes water as he tried to breathe despite the black cloud of crap and the… smell of blood and burning flesh.
He covers his mouth with his scarf (which seemed bigger than usual) and shudders in a breath, his body shaking at the sudden onslaught as he quickly looks out to the square, paling at what he found. Smoke now covered the area in a thick smog, enveloping everything in its path. From what he could see through the cloud, the pure destruction had turned to a massacre.
Bodies littered the area, some caught under rubble while others bled out on the street. The smell was all too like the one he remembered, scarily so. He was glad the smoke only allowed him to see their silhouettes; he didn't know what he'd do if he recognized the tatters of clothing on the most likely charred remains.
A sudden bump in the cart made him jump and shook him back to the present. It was almost like the cart sunk into the thing blocking the road, a wet squelch sounding as they passed… I don't want to think about what that was.
He breathed slowly through his scarf, trying to reason with himself. It's not real. He thinks. I know that. It's just another one of my horrible, stress induced nightmares due to the stupid military, this stupid town, and it's STUPID WAR with whatever attacked us on the road.
But the smell of rot, burnt flesh, and blood still invaded his senses. He screamed into his scarf.
Readjusting, by then he had realized the cart was going in circles around the oddly-intact fountain in the center covered in blood and ash. Looking ahead, pulling the cart was a seemingly normal brown horse, weirdly unaffected compared to its surroundings.
Looking closer while leaning over the cart to put a hand on its back, he noticed that it wasn't blinking, and he couldn't feel it breathing, either-
A strong gust of wind pushed him back onto the cart, the smoke coalescing around him in a whirlwind of black. His scarf was blown askew as he coughed violently on the floor, eyes watering as he struggled against the wind's current.
When it finally dissipated away from the cart, Tang shoved his scarf back into his face and gulped in giant breaths of (slightly) cleaner air as he sat up.
The cart jolting to a stop brought him back to the moment as he stumbled forward, the horse coughing something horrible as it tried to keep walking, stumbling over every piece of… debris thrown into the road. The sounds of it heaving and coughing were deeply disturbing as it basically echoed through the still, gorey setting.
Tang rushed to set it free of the restraints, struggling against the thick clouds of smoke even with his scarf over his face again. He tried to find a latch, knot, anything to undo the reins trapping the poor creature here, but he couldn't find anything before the horse collapsed onto the ground.
The cart toppled with it, leaning dangerously to one side as he let out a muffled yelp in surprise, gripping the sides of the cart for dear life. He was thrown onto the road, landing on top of stray pieces of wood and stone that dug into his side.
He groaned painfully as he got to his feet. Standing on solid ground again, he noticed how his sleeves seemed longer than usual and how baggy his pants and robe had become, bunching near his loose shoes. He tripped over the fabric more than once as he dragged himself back to where the horse played on the ground, motionless.
He grimaced at the sight as he crouched down next to its head. One hand held his scarf to his face while the other hand reached out to its face, closing its eyes to offer some sort of peace. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, the odd sense of deja vu he got slipping away as he noticed how scratchy his voice had become from the smoke and how it sounded oddly squeaky.
His eyes scrunched together in confusion, a hand reaching towards his throat. “What was that?” His voice stayed weird, still high, still younger sounding than what it should be.
He stood up, away from where the horse now lied. He walked and walked, ignoring the scent of ash, smoke, and blood as he tried to find a building with at least half of its walls and windows still intact, preferably vacant of any… former inhabitants.
Gravel and chunks of wood caved under his feet, the black flats he usually wore not doing him any favors in terms of padding, especially now that they were a size too big. The warmth of the fires around him licked at his heels and bare skin, similar to holding a fresh bowl of noodles at Pigsy's with your bare hands; nothing too bad, but you know it could become worse if you slipped up.
He's only done it once, spill a bowl of noodles, but the skin on his hand was raw for weeks, leaving him unable to write for the entire duration it was healing. This was incredibly inconvenient as this was when he had started college in Megatropolis, and Pigsy had scoffed every time he came in after class and whined about the injury, calling him a clumsy fool with his head stuck in the clouds.
Pigsy did end up leaving him some fresh bandages and burn cream one night, when the pain started to worsen along with the swelling. He had teased the chef for it, obviously, but he doesn't remember exactly what he said. All he does remember is how red in the face Pigsy had gotten, embarrassed out of his mind as he grumbled all the way back to the kitchen.
The pain didn't seem so bad with him around.
However, this warmth around him now wasn't as comforting.
A small glint of light drew his attention. Tilting his head, he could see it was a shattered mirror lying on the floor. It was inside of a collapsed bakery, counters, chairs, and ovens crumbled and covered in ash. The sight of it sent a pang of hurt to his chest, but he ignored it in favor of getting closer.
Stepping over crumbling bricks and splintered planks, he slowly approached the smoldering shell of the building, making sure he didn't stumble over the debris or his own clothing. As he got up to what used to be the doorway, he silently peered inside, making sure that there wasn't anything lingering in there.
He let out a sigh of relief when he saw nothing moving, carefully stepping in through the rough entrance. The edges of his robe caught onto some bent supports stuck into the ground, not letting him get even a step into the place before he fell forward onto his left shoulder.
Tang sighed heavily into the floor. This is starting to get old. Fast. He thought, rolling to his back onto a decently clear area of the ground. He absently looked through the non-existent ceiling as he rubbed his shoulder, seeing how smoke and ash rose into the air and disappeared into the clouds, fire glowing through the gray in hues of orange and yellow.
Tilting his head to the right, he saw what he had come in here for. It was a long, oval-shaped mirror lying directly under the center of the hole in the roof, probably falling from the bakery's second floor. It was cracked and shattered in many places, covered in large amounts of ash; however, the beautiful frame remained intact.
Before getting up and getting closer, Tang sat up and looked around the bakery more thoroughly. It had only taken one blow, the giant hole above and the small crater in the floor being the only evidence of violence proving it. He saw other items in the crater as well, peering into its depths.
A broken plant vase with burnt flowers, some trophies melted and mangled beyond recognition, pieces of clothing that might have been matching aprons at some point, and some picture frames that weren't so lucky as the mirror, with most of the frames, glass, and pictures themselves being shattered or ripped to shreds.
He slowly dragged himself over to the crater, lowering himself about a foot as he carefully avoided broken glass and the like. Despite how careful he was, however, he still managed to accidentally knee one of the broken picture frames, letting out a hiss. The glass and splinters thankfully didn't cut through the fabric, though.
Sitting back and dusting off his knee of stray grime, he looked down at what he had hit. It was a family photo, parents standing behind the kids where everyone was smiling at the camera wearing matching uniforms that seemed familiar.
He picked the photo up, brushing away the layers of ash that covered it. The old couple seemed distant, eyes clouded with other worries and thoughts with polite smiles gracing their faces. Their hair had Grey streaks, yet was well handled with a bun or a ponytail.
The eldest child, or just the tallest one, stood next to the father; a small turn of the lips is all that's given to the camera, sharp eyes crinkled, annoyed with the activity perhaps. His hair was neat, almost too neat for a child his age, probably around 16 if he had to guess.
The kid standing in front of him was most likely the youngest due to how he stood a foot shorter than any of the other people in the picture. His smile was wide and unwavering towards the camera, some missing teeth becoming noticeable.
Then the kid on the left, the only girl, stood next to the mother, no more than 15. He noticed her eyes first, hazel irises glinting with mirth at the camera as long black hair framed her face-
*CRUNCH*
The photo was crushed in his hands. He balled it up violently, throwing it towards whoever knows where. I got distracted. This is just a dream.
He sighed heavily, focussing back on what he came here for. The mirror was propped up on the crater's slope, covered in ash that he quickly swiped off, slanted not enough for a full body view but enough to see his top half when he stood up.
What he noticed first was how skinny he looked, like he was drowning in his own clothes. That wasn't surprising, but what was was that all his wrinkles were now replaced with baby fat, his hair now infinitely shorter as well.
He raised a hand to his face in shock, feeling to see if that was what he really looked like. He was a teenager again. His age back when this all happened. Back when he couldn't fight back. Back when he wasn't strong enough to protect his friends.
He didn't like that he looked like this again.
Leaning closer, he saw the bags under his eyes he still had today. That never changed, he supposed. The cracks distorted the image, though, with parts of him in all different sections of the broken mirror. He remembered when he broke his own mirror in a fit of frustration, back when he was still in Megatropolis.
That time seemed forever ago, when he sat still and carefully plucked all those shards from his knuckles. He had hit it square in the center, cracks forming and crumbling outward from his weak punch, but this mirror seemed to have a different start.
Trailing the lines of the mirror with his eyes to look for the source, he saw that the cracks led to a small hole in the mirror made by blunt force, maybe from a piece of wood or brick, making a focal point that landed perfectly on Tang’s reflection, right above his heart.
He supposed it was poetic in some way he couldn't think of, mind hazy from the carnage and smoke surrounding everything around him.
However, the little introspection didn't last long. He heard the walls creak eerily before he even knew what was going on, ash displacing from the remains of the higher floor as it started to tilt inwards. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly looked up at what could only be described as something utterly, completely, horrifying.
A figure was suspended in the air, obscured by clouds and clouds of smoke and fire that seemed to wrap around its very being. The only thing visible through the whirling grey and orange was its piercing white eyes as it stared him down through the rubble.
The supports around him creaked in displeasure as the whirlwind around it kicked up, consuming more and more smoke, ash, and blood from the surrounding area. Dust, grime, anything light enough was picked up soon enough, either crumbled or burnt to complete ashes as it joined the tornado above.
The smell of burnt flesh and blood had gotten so much worse, causing him to gag and cough even through the scarf. It got so bad that he had to fall to his knees, letting go of his scarf as he kept dry heaving into the crater now empty of any personal belongings. Only the ashes remained constant, whirling around him with the smoke only making his coughing worse.
The wind howled in his ears, thrashing his loose clothes every which way and deafening his senses. His throat felt like it was on fire, ashes and particles tearing the soft tissue apart in every breath. He had started to choke at one point, his hands clawing at his throat in a pathetic display of helplessness.
Those eyes never left him once. Staring and staring and staring and staring as he faded more and more. Never moving, never talking, never blinking. Tears fell from his eyes in waves, the droplets barely making it an inch before the winds took it away as well.
He was dying. This is what dying felt like. A slow, painful way to go in his memories. He didn't remember this. He was never near the demon who did it. This never happened.
That’s what he thought.
The pain was too real, too specific to be something his brain made up for no purpose, the feeling too familiar to discard as just another part of a wacky nightmare. The surrounding building cracking and crumbling to the clouds of smoke becoming a fixture in his brain as he trembled on the floor barely conscious as the last bit of restraint was pulled away.
Pieces of drywall, brick, and ash came down all at once. Tang closed his eyes as he trembled on the floor. The first time this happened, dread, fear, and helplessness had engulfed him, Allan’s determination being the only thing pulling him through that mess. The second time, he had Cian for support, a voice grounding him to the situation at hand so he could get his ass out of it in one piece with Zach.
Now, though, he only had himself: his weak, cowardly, pathetic self, and wasn't that just a terrifying, dreadful thought to have? That without anyone else to lean on, to rely on, to leech off of, he'd be left for dead even in his own head?
The building collapsed inward over its own weight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tang woke up with a start, an awful crick in his neck making itself known as well. He gulped in the air greedily as he reached a hand up to his throat on instinct. His throat was completely fine, no burning sensations to be felt as he kept breathing heavily.
However, he did feel stretches of raw, tender skin over his neck. Feeling a hand over his neck, it was most likely scratch marks from how thin the marks were, how they slightly burned, and how he could see some redness under his own fingernails, too. Did I do that in my sleep? That seems a bit concerning…
A smack on the side of the truck spooked him out of his stupor, making him jump in surprise and turn towards the noise. “Heya, sleeping beauty! Finally awake?” Rick jokes, leaning on the side of the truck with a piece of rope hanging over his shoulder.
Tang just blinked slowly in response, unsure of what to say. Before he could reply, however, Harrison came up to the other side of the truck with a clipboard, glaring across the vehicle towards the other.
“Step away from my assignment, Rick. I need to give instructions and you can socialize all you like after your head dismisses you back to your tent. Glasses, come with me.” He said curtly, turning away from the truck and starting towards a small tent on the outskirts of what used to be a city if Tang had to guess.
All that was left was scorch marks and rubble, he's guessing something caused by explosives based on the earlier conversation in the medical tent.
Rick rolled his eyes dramatically before walking off with a wave in Tang's general direction. Tang could only huff at the antics before scrambling to get out of the truck and running as fast as he could to catch up with Harrison.
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I made some small rewrites in the ending of the latest chapter. The vibe was a bit too hopeful, in my opinion. In my defense, I finished this in one sitting with no beta reader. Hope this version reads better!
Shadow Trails ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-- TW kinda detailed gore/violence and death ahead --
The being got pelted with rain as it walked along the sidewalk, trying to find some proper shelter. The rain never ended as it shivered in its torn clothing.
It briefly inspected its surroundings as it walked, seeing how the rain turns yellow and sizzles when it touches anything. Its brown clothes started to gain small burns from the downpour after a while.
The sidewalks were cracked with unknown stains, burns, and fluids stuck in the gutters. These discolored the puddles and small streams from the storm, making everything seem polluted and unsavory.
Everything else looked like your average town back in New Oreans, but something was off about this place. Everything seemed uncanny. Where small details should be, there were slights in what its memory provided.
It eventually found something when it passed a boarded up speakeasy with the name 113 Club. It had an alley with stone steps leading up to a side door, with a small awning it could probably fit under.
It immeadietly ran towards the awning before crouching down at the top of the stairs, barely staying out of the acid.
As soon as it no longer felt the burning sensation, it sagged onto the stairs slightly. It started to breathe slower and closed its eyes for a second of rest.
Then it opened its eyes again, seeing this place now with focused vision. It now realized what it had found odd about the place. The building had sharper angles and desigbs than what it had remebered, with many shades of red and black coloring the entire area.
Even the plants and sky were red from what it could see through the storm clouds. The clouds themselves seemed darker than usually possible, not even mentioning the precipitation that came from them.
It leaned back onto the locked door, feeling the rough wood and peeling paint against its back. It tilted its head up, looking towards the clouds.
'How did I wind up... here?' It thought. Closing its eyes, it tried to recall the events leading up to this, but all it turned up was blurry visions and static.
The being tilted its head down in thought, trying to think of anything from before it got stuck in this place. But its mind seemed scattered; as only bits came back to it.
It started to get irritated. 'Why can't I remember anything. What... happened to me.' The rain seemed to fall harder, hissing as it hit the ground more and more, becoming unbearable to the beings' sensitive ears.
It huffed, putting its head in its arms. Gritting its teeth, it tried to think back again. Anything to try and-
*BANG*
The being snaps its head up, ears flicking in alert. It looked to the sky.
*BANG*
Lightning strikes the open street, thunder crackling to life a second later. Its pupils turn to pinpricks, with the shadows lashing out, tearing up the wall behind it.
But the being didn't notice, as that strike finally jogged its memory.
A gunshot. It remembered a gunshot.
It... He was running. From who, he didn't know. He could only feel his shoes imprinting onto the soil as he fled.
He remembers hunting dogs barking in the background as he tried to escape; bullets flying past his head as he weaved through the dense forest.
His pursuer was never far behind, though, as the noise of the dogs seemed to only get closer and closer at every second.
He ran and lightly jumped over the protruding roots and shrubs that covered the familiar forest floor, some lowering or diverting their branches to make an easier path.
But the pursuer was never slowed down, it seemed, as the weighted steps of the hunter were still heard behind him.
Even when he was weaving between thick trunks and sheltered by the shadows cast by the moon, the hunter never let up. He supposed he could respect the tenacity.
Bullets often shot into nearby trees, throwing debris in every direction. He occasionally got nicked in the neck, arms, and torso, but nothing was too severe; he had to keep running anyway.
Yelling could suddenly be heard, curses of every scale being spat out in anger alongside the furious howels of those beasts the sloppy hunter had brought with him.
A certain click from reloading was all he got before he had to dodge again, bullets whistling by as he laughed at the absurdity, the noise echoing through the trees.
His grin grew as the soil turned to mud: signifying that the bayou was getting close. The smell of musk and stale water filled his nose as a strong breeze blew throughout.
His dress shoes were probably completely ruined by now: the mud sticking to his soles. The ground is now filled with small, muddy puddles as he kept going deeper and deeper into his bayou.
He could feel his power slowly growing; shadows flickering at the edges of his vision. Water splashed up to his pant cuff as he crashed through progressively bigger puddles.
Almost there. Another bullet whistled by his head, lodging into a tree a couple of inches away from his head. Just a bit more.
The footsteps behind him suddenly became silent. A sense of unease filled him as he continued his pace. He wasn't going to stop just because some Joe decided to-
*BANG*
White hot pain suddenly shot up from his left calf, causing his leg to collapse at the shock. He quickly had a face full of dirt, his brown framed glasses shattered on the ground.
What just happened.
He felt blood slowly run down his leg and onto the ground. He tried to stand up, but shots of pain from his leg quickly threw him back down again. Ha! It'll take more than that to keep me-
The world started to spin around him, the shadows from the trees growing in size as he failed to pull himself forward.
Then thosewretched dogs found him; they rushed at him with immense speed.
He felt the teeth sinking into his flesh, tearing out the muscles with ease, taking chunks out at a time. The pain flashed up in waves as he felt more and more blood flow down his limbs and soak into the mud.
He clenched his jaw, throwing his body, trying to get the dogs off of him. With the little strength he had, he was able to pull out a knife from his belt and slash one of the beasts across the stomach.
It fell back, and he focused his slashes onto the second dog. He was able to strike two of its legs before it finally staggered away. He took a quick breath, the comforting smell of murky water and moss helping clear his head slightly.
The mud stuck to his skin as he crawled forward. He was so close now. He just needed a bit further. He needed to get to the water.
He dug his hands deep into the earth, pulling himself forward again. But the pain from everything became too much; his vision becoming cloudy from the blood loss.
The blood created a dark trail as it colored the soil he was laying on, the deeper slashes on his left arm giving most of the scarlet liquid away. The scratches and bites on his body became almost unnoticeable.
He could barely see the swamp up ahead. The still water brought back some determination as he tried to crawl through the pain.
But he was never that lucky.
He remembers the boots stepping in the mud behind him, leisurely walking up behind, the hunter taking his precious time, as to drag on this entire dabacol.
He couldn't see the pursuer clearly, as his glasses werent for nothing and the blood loss obviously did some things to his vision. The hunter had pulled him to lay on his back, staring him down.
The hunter suddenly stepped onto his right leg, using his full weight until the bone snapped. He never screamed, though. Only an annoying grin plastered on his face with bloody teeth.
He cackled once again. That was a good show. A daring chase throughout his home territory, real riveting! He saw how the shadows crept in on the man, who stared at his face unknowingly.
His grin stretched farther. Oh, he had the urge to laugh right again! But, he couldn't without it becoming repetitive-
*Snap!*
A branch cracked in the forest. The shadows scurried away as the hunter jerked violently, seemingly out of whatever trance he was in.
The grinning man quickly looked to the sound. A deer stood tall bathed in moonlight. Staring at the duo with blackened eyes. His eyes widened.
The man had barely any time to react before cold metal collided with his temple, pushing his head back into the cold, smooth mud.
*BANG*
Another strike of lightning, the thunder echoing through the alleyway. It was farther away this time. The rain had let up a bit since he had been, well, reminiscing.
His breathing was heavy, body now rigid from the rain, mostly. He stared at the downpore; wondering. 'I... died.'
He closed his eyes once again, the notion absurd enough to be featured on one of those radionovelas he'd heard about.
'Beloved radio host, actually the Bayou Butcher of New Orleans, killed in bayou where he buried his victims!' He could imagine. He huffed out a shallow laugh.
The acid rain had let up almost entirely, leaving the slight smell in the air after a downpour. He looked out to the street again, seeing all the boarded up doors and windows and cracks on the buildings. His stomach twisted.
He huffed before standing up once again and walking back out onto the street. He smoothly jumped over any overturned concrete or piece of rubbish in his way, as he went in a random direction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The hotel had been going a bit slower than Charlie would have liked. A week after that incident on 666 News and not even one sinner had come asking for more details!
She even got Husk to help remodel the hotel a bit. Even if there was more green and purple than she would've liked in certain rooms.
Angel complained about the noise, saying he needed his beauty rest in order to keep the bucks flowing in. That caused Husk to mutter something she couldn't hear, and all of a sudden, she had to tear the two away from each other before furniture went flying.
They stayed away from each other the rest of the remodeling process.
Nifty also helped in the past week! Just, eh, in her own way. She was always skittering around the halls, stabbing the carpet after any remaining bugs. There was never any lasting damage to the floor, though, and all the dust and cobwebs were gone!
Now, besides remodeling, Charlie made many different posters for the hotel down in the lobby, just to stick all around Pentagram City and get the word out.
She obviously gave her drawing expertise to the design, but she almost always forgot to put the actual contact information, focused on the happy picture. So, she asked for help from Alastor, and he agreed! He never left the front desk, though; drawing and sketching on the bar counter.
However, he always forgot to put her phone number on there and kept writing 'Hazbin Hotel' instead of Happy Hotel. Whenever she asked, he just said, "I would never endorse those frivilous, jumbled picture cards! Anywho, the name is for your branding! No sinner with self-respect would go to any establishment called the 'Happy Hotel'. The other name fits the image of this city much better!"
She never really got what he meant by that. This was a place to help sinners gain happiness and reform from their sins to stop the extermination! But, she didn't change any posters out of politeness.
Vaggie was annoyed at her decision and started to grimace at the front desk whenever she passed through the lobby. She told Charlie that he was mocking them, but Charlie saw the effort Alastor put in to color and draw each poster for her.
So, when all of them were done, she called everyone to come to the lobby lounge for an important discussion.
"Ok! So, the hotel has been up for a bit, and no one seems to have noticed our hotel yet." Charlie starts, matter-of-factly to the group of people in the lobby.
Angel snickered at his perch on the love seat, with Husk giving a skeptical expression towards Charlie on the armchair.
Vaggie clenched her fists, narrowing her eyes beside Charlie, who seemed undisturbed by the feedback. "Now, I have made pairs to go out and put up posters up in the streets for the hotel. I will also be counting this as a bonding activity!"
Charlie poofed up some flashcards from a wave of her hand. "I'll list the pairs, and then each pair can go grab a stack to stick onto windows, walls, or electric poles." Charlie stated. "And only those things." Vaggie then emphasized.
A scoff from Angel is all they got in response.
"Ok, so the pairs start with me and Nifty, Husk and Vaggie, and lastly, Angel and Alastor." She read flipping through the index cards.
No groans sounded, so Charlie took that as a win, but Alastor did speak up. "Charlie dear, I'm afraid that at least one of us should stay at the hotel. To make sure no sinner tries anything while we're away."
"Oh, uh, that's a good point..." Charlie seems to think it over. Vaggie started to open her mouth, but Alastor cut her off.
"Well my dear, I think the best course for us is to leave the staff out of this little excursion." He casually suggested, eyes intently focusing on the glass he was cleaning.
"That does make sense... ok, that means that only two pairs will go out to put up fliers today. Vaggie and Husk can go to the west side, and I am now with Angel in the east side since Al and Nifty will stay at the hotel. Any objections?" Charlie asks.
No one put up any major fuss about the pairings, mainly waiting for Charlie to continue. Charlie seemed pleased with the results.
"Ok then! Let's go out and put up some posters, people!"
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Oh, I didn't know. Thank you for informing me.
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