002.
//God is dead, but we still believe. What kind of sick joke is that?//
.
It's been three weeks.
Liria forgot just how boring things can be when you aren't scared out your wits or actively trying not to get eaten alive.
The house is boring.
They tried to animate several times, but the motivation that allowed them to binge aggressively for three weeks has died; all that is left is listless scribbling and poking as they check their phone almost obsessive compulsively.
A lot of the messages that Liria's gotten is actually warnings and amber alerts of people eating other people around the district. Not only that, but the goodbye texts from some friends three days before the cluster frickle and such. No sign of Lil, which made Liria's heart sink a bit, but Outsider just reported that he's safe and would probably conclude staying in the house is the safest option at the moment.
On top of that, Liria finally had the courage to look outside.
There's not much to look at.
The small house is located on a tiny sidewalk street, and the neighbor's houses are dark. Liria remembers belatedly that animals have better instincts then normal humans, and they search for any sign of the tiny yippy dog only a few blocks away from the window. It's small, white, and very, very obnoxious.
With the events, though, Liria almost wished that there was a small yippy dog. Maybe it could have helped in the whole "It's the END OF THE WORLD" thing.
None is seen, and Liria closes the curtains, taking precautions to shove furniture up against the door and the couch against the window.
After that, it's the waiting game. The all clear signal, the "It's okay" signal.
None were forthcoming.
With all of that happening, the phone lines blocked and Liria refusing to look outside, time passed. Slowly.
After the frankly traumatizing showdown between the terrifying rabid hell spawn from cucumber hell and the mod, Liria wasn't all that keen on returning to the television. But as hours blur into days and days into longer days, the remote control was flicked on after much deliberation.
It wasn't very pretty outside.
Most of the news systems are down; as a spectator, Liria really didn't have a chance to live out all the chaos that has reigned itself in the streets. There are some stragglers, though, and while videos have all but flickered out, there are lots and lots of audio recordings. Between freezing half the time and death screams, Liria has their work cut for them.
It didn't take long for Liria to recalibrate the television to only accept audio. It took maybe a few days for Liria to grow sick of beans as they sat down to listen to the daily news. It's like a radio all over again.
Apparently, rabies may actually be a legit cause. Mutant rabies; it's a blood borne infection, triggered by blood. It attacks a User's DNA and causes them to mutate into something that's blood thirsty, huge, and kind of terrifying.
People are starting to call the creatures "Glitches". It's a cute name for a not so cute creature.
Liria resolutely choked on a few beans, did a few meditation exercises that are worth jackshit, and then continued to listen, because they really aren't sure how to feel about giant terrifying raptor things, from what the Radio described.
YOU ARE READING
Glitched.
Fanfiction(AKA: I wrote over 60,000 words on a weak noodle man trying to survive not getting skewered by magic zombies. ) Sometimes, you are very small when faced against the world. Liria knows this- knows the smell of copper and rot intimately with the flic...
