volitaunt: (010)
α gσσ∂ sραcε вσү ғяσм α gσσ∂ sραcε ғαмιℓү ([personal profile] volitaunt) wrote in [community profile] bumfuckidaho 2017-04-17 03:59 pm (UTC)

No one else came with him.

That thought haunts him unreasonably as Poe makes his way deeper into the woods. No one, not one of those people, heard someone scream and wanted to do anything about it. He's not used to that, he realizes. He was once, but not any more.

He also hasn't been walking long enough to merit the fatigue trickling into his veins. This feels... familiar, almost. It feels like--

The start of recollection gets curtailed by the sight of a woman on the ground. He picks up the pace, trying to run, finding instead that he can manage a jog with disproportionate effort.

"Hey! Can you hear me? Sing out if you--"

The wall, suddenly visible through the trees. He staggers to a halt, dropping unintentionally to one knee. The wall, and suddenly he knows why this feels familiar.

This isn't a town. It's a prison.

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