❝how do you kill a monster without becoming one?❞
In the last city ruled by man, fish soar in the skies above and monsters lurk in the alleys below. Ten years ago, Jase lost both his legs and his mother to one such monster. However, tragedy couldn't...
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Jase stumbled into the kitchen, vision blurred by either the venom or the blood loss.
With fumbling hands, Jase threw open drawers, looking for the antidotal shot he knew kept somewhere in here. A Smile bite caused intense hallucinations and semi-paralysis. The victim wouldn't feel pain or want to escape from the Smile once they were bit. Focus, focus, focus. Gentle hands ran along Jase's shoulders as long milky arms wrapped around his neck. No. Not real. There was nothing there.
He needed that shot. Now.
"Why are you so worried?" a woman's voice asked. Jase froze. "Come on, Jase." He knew she wasn't real. He knew she couldn't be real. Because she had been dead for eleven years now. "Jason, look at me."
And for some stupid, stupid reason Jase turned his head. Maybe because he just needed to see her once more. She looked just as he remembered her - as in there were parts missing. They sort of blurred together and Jase only saw glimpses of her pale blond hair. Her pale skin. Her smile.
"There we go," she said, her lips haloed by the pink lip gloss that she loved to wear when they could afford it. "You've grown up so much."
"You're not real," Jase said, turning back to the drawer. He needed the antidote or the hallucinations would take over. His heart rate would get slower and slower until it finally stopped and he was kept in the dreamlike state forever.
"What are you talking about, Jase?" The hallucination of his mother had her voice. "I'm right here," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder as Jase pulled the shot from the drawer.
The hand changed forms. It became rough, callused from years of combat training. The grip changed in quality. It was stronger, firmer, more real than his mother's ever could have been. Jase didn't have to turn to see who the hand belonged to.
"Stop being a dumbass, Jase," Huraira said. "Just let go."
Jase didn't know why he turned, but he did. Huraira was wearing the same paint stained clothes she'd been wearing earlier this night. Her shoulders were set back and she looked more like her old self than she had in a while now.
"You wouldn't believe the cafe I found today," Huraira said. "We should go there. We have a lot to talk about." She rubbed the back of her neck. "There's so much I've wanted to tell you. I feel like a shit friend for keeping it from you for so long."
"No!" Jase said. The antidote slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. "You're my best friend, Huraira! I'm the one who should be sorry."
"Well you can apologize by buying me some tea," Huraira teased.
Jase nodded as the dream spun and his apartment faded. Suddenly, Jase was sitting beside Kova underneath the willow tree. Kova was staring at the river, flicking his wrist and weaving flower crowns with years of his life, before he turned to Jase and smiled.
