He's barely speaks to me. He pretends I don't exist. As do I. Four hours of silence and we've arrived to the District.
My breath trembles as the gates of the district emerges through the sand clouds.
"PASS."
Soldiers aligned by the entrance. A gate the height of fifty horses stacked together. The width of a thousand dead bodies. It probably took a thousand bodies to create it. There's a curved wall that surrounds the entire District. I wonder how many more bodies took to build it. It was created in a simple month. One full moon and it was done. How many survived? I ask too many questions.
I don't have a pass. And I don't think Mr here does either.
"I don't have a pass."
I don't think it would be a good idea to tell the guard that upfront…
"What about the Mrs here?" The soldier noted something down. Probably to report someone dead alive.
"She's not with me." He remarked bluntly as if it was an obvious statement. I wouldn't want to be his Mrs anyway.
"Ma'am, I need to see your face to verify your identity."
I hesitate. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to kill me. I can sense it. He's going to see my eyes.
"Ma'am, lift your hood."
He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes. He's going to see my eyes.
He's going to kill me. He's going to gauge them out. He's equipped with guns that can easily take my life in one blow. I'm staring at the sand and I can see a butterfly knife glisten in the pockets of his cargos. Should I take it?
There's too many soldiers. I'm going to die.
The soldier loses his patience and reaches for my hood.
"You don't want to see her face. It was burned off in a nuclear explosion. It's pretty nasty. It took us six months to make it back here to verify our survival."
"Can you confirm the site of the nuclear explosion." That wasn't a question. It was an order.
"The East Strillec Oasis."
"The authorities will be notified of your survival. Passes are given at the 1st station. rations are given after name and birth verifications. You will be assigned duties at the North Wing of the 2nd station. If you are caught disobeying the law, you will be labelled a rebel, and will be shot on sight. Is that understood."
Again, an order.
The Mr grunts and nods as his head bows down, and his eyes meet my eyes.
His ocean eyes.
They're nothing compared to Kallias.
I still dislike the Mr, and he still despises me.
There is no sand within the Revixit District. It's all metal. Developed using a certain technology only the ones at the top of the ladder would know. Though, that's what the rumours speculate. The people look deranged from malnourishment. A scent of chemicals lingers in the air, guiding the people towards the district in case they lost their way. Tall, metal boxes act as stations. Hidden behind the stations are smaller compounds made of what looks like a similar metal, but the closer you get to them, the more it echoes a smell of an acidic poison. The compounds are packed with people. I'm guessing it's their housing. The scent of rotten bodies mingles with the chemicals.
So they all die here.
The District of the dead.
He brought me here to show me what I had caused.