He Was Dying

Chapter Nineteen

 The halls echoed as our feet tapped down the rickety staircase, the steps creaking at each shift of weight. The boys were talking with Brock, asking simple things like how he's been and if he's all right. Replies were positive, and I couldn't help but smile about how he was always so cheerful, despite the unfortunate situation we all were in.

   We decided it was best to not search for the other group, since it could take hours if we were going in circles. The five of us sat on the porch and hung around the foyer, waiting for the sun to swallow the sky. That wouldn't be for a long time, sadly.

I sat on the stone porch steps, knees tucked to my chest. I had retrieved my suit earlier, the upper half of it tied around my waist, exposing my torso. The chilled wind made me shiver, but I didn't mind it all that much.

The dull red sky stood still above me, the stars barely able to shine past the thick grey clouds. It's odd to think that for all I can remember, it's never been blue. I've never seen the sky painted a peaceful turquoise or the clouds dots of white. The sky always looked... angry, almost. It looked as if it were displeased and enraged at everything, at the world we lived in. Was it angry at us? Or for us?

  I felt a tug on my ear. I turned, facing a pair of gleaming blue eyes. "Hi, Bryce."

He sat down beside me, leaning his head on my shoulder. "What're you looking at?"

"Nothing, just thinking."

  "Thinking 'bout what?"

"The sky."

  I could feel him turn to look at me, but I remained gazing up at the vast above.

"Were you looking at the sky?" Bryce asked.

  I shrugged. "Maybe."

His stare moved to look up. He stayed silent. I could imagine the sky, a bright blue like he told me about a few days ago. A magnificent azure spread like a blanket over the earth, not the rust red that I've been cursed to familiarize. The night would be a deep navy, speckles of light reflecting throughout the heavens like a lighthouse in a lost sea.

The sun rise and set would be radiant. An elegant array of colours, mixing into oranges, yellows, pinks and purples. The clouds would mirror this, representing bright hues of beauty, no combination the same as the previous.

"What about it?"

  I turned to Bryce. "Huh?"

His hair was partially folded over his eyes, which were half open. "What were you thinking about the sky?"

  I returned my focus to it. "It looks angry, doesn't it?" Bryce didn't seem to understand, so I tried my best to explain. "The darkness. It has such a furious colour to it, it just seems like something's angry at us. Or, maybe not. Maybe it's angry at what is happening to us. Red is commonly recognized as anger and fear to humans, is it not?"

"In movies, yeah, I guess," he replied. "It could mean violence and danger, but it could also represent positive stuff, like love and passion."

"I doubt It's passionate about us."

He turned to me. "It?"

"That thing in the sky."

Bryce blinked. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ohm. You alright?"

  I turned to him. "Have you ever seen those claws when a person gets hung on one of the hooks? Ever seen someone die, then their body is pulled into the sky as if they were a sacrifice to something? That's It, Bryce. That's the thing in the sky."

He goes silent, looking down at his lap to avoid eye contact. I'm afraid I scared him, but I continue. "Humans have gods and goddesses, correct?" He hesitated, then nodded. "Whatever in the sky is our god. Like dedicated followers, we sacrifice things to It. I know normally people sacrifice foods, and plants, maybe clothes or objects or coins. But we.."

I hesitated. "We sacrifice humans."

  Bryce's eyes lift up to look at me. I can tell he sees the regret plastered all over my face. "We don't do this voluntarily, Bryce," I explained, my voice lowered in a near whisper in hopes to calm him down. "If we don't, we die. It makes sure we stay in the yards, so we keep feeding it."

"But.." he mumbled. "Why haven't you killed us yet?"

  "I don't know. That's probably why the sky's always red."

"It's angry?"

  I shook my head. "Maybe it's proud.