When a rare epidemic spreads throughout Katolis and Xadia, everyone is caught off-guard with a disease with no cure- called Verum accumsan, causing you to reveal the true parts of yourselves. Sounds alright, right?
Nope. Wrong.
Dead wrong.
Control i...
(Heyo! Keep in mind that the writing style of this might change because it always sounds SO DARK. Especially in Soren's, his POV will be a lot better. Anywho, time to torture Callum!)
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Callum ran.
He didn't even bother to take a second glance at Rayla, afraid that she would curse at him, in which she obviously would. In denial, Callum ran outside the attic, busting open the door and sprinting as fast as he possibly could away from anyone who might see him.
He was so afraid of himself, afraid of the things that he had done, afraid that he might cause even more trouble and hurt the people he loved most.
The wind mercilessly slapped against his face, light snow beginning to fall. The tears falling down his face seemed to freeze.
Callum's heart raced against his chest, his lungs burning from running for so long but he didn't care anymore.
He didn't care that what he was running so much that he couldn't feel his feet, he didn't care that his sketchbook pages were all ripped up from running, and he didn't care that he he was running barefoot across the snow.
He just wanted all the pain inside his head to subside, to run away from the realities of everything that was going on. He was willing to take any other sort of pain so he could get his mind away from what happened.
But Callum kept on running.
He honestly didn't even know where he was at this point, but all he knew was that he had to get away from anyone he might hurt.
"Just... a little more," Callum urged to himself, begging his feet to continue sprinting. He was probably miles away from... heck, he didn't even know where he was. Xadia? Katolis? Neolandia?
But suddenly his bare feet gave way once Callum realized there was a small make-shift shelter out of trees someone had once built. It was nothing too fancy. Just a couple of scrap pieces of wood that were crossed over each other- it made a shape that was kind of like a triangle. It didn't even have enough room for his entire body to fit, but Callum persisted.
Callum sat inside the shelter for a while, not even daring to think. He just stared off into space, when he suddenly couldn't feel his feet.
Oh no.
He looked down to find his feet slapped over with scrapes from stepping on twigs, and his toes were blue with frostbite. That was deep frostbite, and that was not good.
Callum yanked his scarf off in an attempt to wrap his toes around to stop the bleeding, trying to keep his feet warm.
But it didn't work, and that frustrated him until the point that he screamed.
His scarf blew away.
No, nonononono- Callum thought, searching frantically, trying to get out of the shelter. But his feet didn't work, they didn't cooperate with him.
