It had been at least four days since exile, feeling like years and minutes all at once. Time moved strangely when all you focused on were the possible threats in the surrounding area, whether you were truly alone, if the noises deep in the woods were figments of a paranoid and over-tired imagination, or a hungry beast- just waiting for you to let your guard down. Out in the wilds, death was mercy. Kindness was nothing more than a concept we foolish creatures forgot long ago.
Edesta was a reminder of humanity's hubris- a world that once flourished lush and green, before war after war and decades of pollution turned her tired, broken, and gray.
We learned that we fucked up the hard way; much, much too late.
Adonis woke with a start, shooting upright in the dark. He didn't remember falling asleep; yet here he was, heart racing, blood rushing, in the tender quiet of the badlands. Birds cawed in a lulled melody that would have tempted him to sleep again- if he still had a bed to lay in. The brunette could only feel his brain screaming, alarm bells ringing to the very tips of his fingers, nerves stinging; he needed to move, but why?
He heard no footsteps, animal or otherwise, smelt no viscera, saw nothing out of the ordinary.
It was one of those stupid anxiety things, probably.
Or… was it intuition?
Something that had always been insistent and unyielding in its guidance of this lout despite his bull-headedness.
"God damn it," he thought irritably, chastising himself for passing out in the open.
His eyes narrowed, scanning the blinding shadow of night. Nothing spoke to him, or explained these violent shocks of unease. The trees stood tall, looming and imposing. Most were slim with a curious lean; few were thicker with rough bark, though all shared the tangle of vines binding their bases, forming the occasional wall that trapped Ado from moving recklessly in the dark.
Huffing as quietly as he could, the young man crawled through the underbrush carefully- not daring to make more noise than necessary. He had never considered how loud plants could be, how holly leaves and pine straw crunched and stuck into the skin. Not only did he will nature to quiet, but himself after every prick of those dastardly leaves.
Relief lifted the weight of uncertainty within his chest once he noticed the shape of a large, gnarled tree ahead. Ado urgently palmed towards it, hoping for a vantage point to locate whatever unseen hazard left his flesh rippling in discomfort.
Breath he didn't realize he held seeped between clenched teeth as the boy peeked meekly through the foliage above his head. Dogfennel and whatever other itchy, prickly, Godforsaken plants clinging to his unruly hair electrified a growing, venomous ire that tormented two decades of spite currently powering his will to survive.
The weeds were kindred spirits with Ado; tenacious to a fault, pertinaciously clinging to what little of a life was possible, no matter the cost. Adonis didn't claw all this way through such a wretched existence just to waste it all now by being careless. There was more for him out there other than the rage eating him alive. Whether he wrenched apart his accursed ribcage to discover what else caused this putrid heart to beat, or learned how to grab life by the throat- instead of being the one stuck in life's palm, forever kicking and screaming to find purpose. Either way, he would never stop fighting to taste happiness again, as fleeting as the sweetness may be, and has always been.
There was always a reason for everything; there had to be. Adonis prayed that humanity's cruelty was its own invention, not a trait shared with its creator. As much as he dreamed of not feeling alone, spiritually or otherwise, Ado would rather live on a hapless rock floating through space, suffering for nothing than be entertainment to a God that forsook him long ago.
Lovegrass tickled his mandible as he crept closer to the sizable trunk; flora taunted his temper, making it difficult to act sensibly. The boy fought the urge to rip the greenery that caressed his face with a perverse insistency to drive him up the fucking wall from the ground, halting momentarily to violently claw at his jaw and survey the area around him. There was a bare patch of ground before him, a leap to take before the chance of safety. The woods behind the overgrown trunk cast small rays of moonlight, entirely too far from him to be of any help. Light caressed the tops of more barren logs farther off, wind rocking them ever so slightly.
Getting closer to the trunk would mean leaving the underbrush and exposing himself to possible predators; there was no telling what could be hiding in the branches above. He scanned the treetops with a heavy squint, trying to catch sight of anything suspicious before he decided to take his leap of faith.
All for naught, the trees in his vicinity were lush, black as the void; bare outlines of moonlight barely conceivable in the limbs far above him.
After a few seconds of contemplating the pros and cons of murdering every weed there ever was, in tandem with debating his current predicament, Ado decided it was fruitless trying to identify every movement through the imperceivably inky gloom. He realized if a beast was in the area, it would have already smelt him. If that were the case, he'd be a red smear in the vines by now. As long as he stayed quiet and kept out of the few beams of moonlight, Ado might just make it through the night.
"If I'm fucked, I'm fucked;" he surmised, having taken as much caution as he thought possible. Swallowing the fear expanding in his throat with a grimace, the young man turned his head and unfocused his eyes, listening to the hymn of the woods sing a faux lullaby of cicadas and birdsong.
All seemed well.
Creeping forward, he gently pressed his hands onto the rough bark and exhaled shakily. There was a pitch-black shadow that looked to be a crevasse; the human scrunched his face to fight off the growing smile of relief in an attempt to not get too optimistic.
His back tingled as it faced the caliginous woods, fingers swiping downwards to find an opening that tenderly welcomed him in, causing Ado's lips to curl smugly upward in this small moment of victory. Crawling into the hole of the tree, the outcast was shielded by a mangled knot that concealed him from view. Safety was such a rare incident out in the deadlands, and this little shit was fortunate enough to find the perfect vantage point to observe the forest around him.
Perhaps it was an antecedent apology, wrapped in a pretty bow.
He was fortunate nothing lurked within the base of the tree already, not that he looked at all, distracted by the discomfort of unknown anxiety, those fucking seedpods and sharp thistles still stuck in his hair. Now, of course, spider webs and whatever else joined the fray. Pressure built in his throat as the thought of an unknown number of who knows what kind of creatures could be climbing in the sprigs of jagged wood above his head- just waiting to nestle in his hair. Ado felt a chill so intense he needed to violently shake his head to soothe it, clenching his fists and blowing air out of his nose to focus on the task at hand.
Torturing himself with what-ifs could wait until after the sun came up.
Surviving four days was a miracle by far.
Despite the momentary release (if you could even call it that), something in his gut still yelled to remain vigilant- to stay still. No matter how ridiculous he felt, the man obeyed instincts; they were the only friend he had out here. Muggy air caused sweat to wet his fringe, making it harder to pluck nature's confetti from his curls. The boy kneeled whilst listening to the daunting tranquility of the wilds dancing in the gentle wind. After freeing himself from the organic velcro scraping his scalp, he wiped his face with the back of his hand and adjusted his bag more comfortably over his shoulder. Ado nervously stroked the strap in tender circles with his thumb, trying not to think of home. "It's not home anymore." Something in the back of his mind harshly reminded the exile while he exhaled deeply. Adonis watched the wilderness from under the shadow of the unsightly knot, careening his head from side to side. He took in every detail of the thin, scraggly vines oozing down, cactuses entrenched at the base of trees- how they shifted into forms of unknown creatures thanks to his apprehensive inventiveness, ignoring how his heart stopped at every shadow that looked remotely humanoid. Every inch of nature swayed in the breeze, casting illusions of monsters and fiends in the night, sending more cold shockwaves of pins and needles up his back and arms.
Ado dejectedly glared into bleak nothingness as the wild grew deafeningly silent in a distressingly short amount of time. The only sound was his own blood rushing, heart pounding at an increasing tempo against his ribcage as if it were a prisoner fighting to be freed. Ado's eyes widened and glazed over, fingers clasping his bag with a white-knuckled grip. He forced his breathing to quiet, no matter how erratically his body responded. The grass the boy had been staring at became a blackened blur, swaying ominously in the dead noise.
Off in the distance, he finally heard the cause of his disdain: a guttural whooping, followed by clicking and ekking, along with a lurid noise that had to be some twisted sort of laugh. Ado felt the color drain from his face before a deep, strangled scream ripped through the woods. The sound was so visceral that it caused a wave of goosebumps to rise up the back of his torso.
"Oh, fuck;" The perspiration forming on Ado's skin was lost to him, only aware of dread's vice-like embrace ensnaring his lithe frame.
It was already too late for them; there was no saving whoever had been caught. Not that Adonis had a fighting chance in the first place- this wasn't a game of heroes and villains for God's sake; this was real fucking life. The only prize awarded for bravery in a situation like this would be having the meat torn from your bones; your stupidity rewarded with a ballad of death, the melody a mixture of dissonant notes of repulsive growls and teeth smacking that would haunt your soul for the next few lives you'd be unfortunate enough to walk through.
Terror possessed the young man; he'd never come this close to a beastman before, nor had he seen any humans outside the colony.
There was never a good reason to be out here.
"They're dead, they gotta be fuckin' dead;"
The stretch of silence to follow filled him with panic beyond what his body could bear, causing a bubble of air to form in his chest as terror seared his eyes and cheeks.
A divine will for survival kicked in, he crouched and pounced from his hiding spot. It may have been foolish to run, knowing beastmen can easily overtake a human without expending a lick of effort; but this was not a time of logic or strategy for the outcast. Sitting in place would have only cemented his end, caged beneath that stump promised a grizzly demise- the idea of what could have been was enough to make the boy shudder. Dread sprung him forward, attempting to sprint on all fours like a startled animal to avert the attention of those glutinous brutes from the stench of his humanity.
Ado couldn't tell how close they were, but that scream…
It had only been a moment since he heard it, yet, the paralyzing eight seconds that shriek filled the air played over and over in his mind, fueling his heart to beat faster than any Batá drum.
Too close…
He had no idea there were humans around; the area appeared utterly desolate. Not that Adonis even knew how to track or look for others in the first place, as he'd barely managed to feed himself these past few days. Ado wasn't certain if he was disappointed about missing out on the chance of meeting an exile or not; God knows the kind of person he could have run into with his luck.
What a filthy little hypocrite he was.
Racing onward, the human fought against his leaded being, kicking his knees ahead while allowing gravity to push him onto his hands, clawing forward, flinging his torso up, then repeating the endless, exhausting cycle. His shoulder throbbed from pinning his bicep to his side, attempting to keep his bag safely in place the best he could, not that the added tension was paid any mind. Elephant ear leaves slapped at him as he passed, not registering them as anything other than another obstacle to bypass.
The adrenaline consuming him made the sharp sticks and rocks embedding themselves into his palms impossible to notice. In this state of madness, the punctures felt no different from the dull sting of cloth digging into his armpits and ribs that he had long since grown accustomed to. A vine caught his ankle, making Adonis hiss in anger; the stinging of worn flesh was overrun by fear, unimportant as he bounded onward. He focused more on listening for the telltale signs of something large closing in on him- praying the presence clawing its way up his back was trepidation, and not whatever just let out another laugh loud enough to echo through the entire stretch of woods he bounded through. That deep, malicious sound was steeped in savage joy, causing the human to instinctually clench his jaw. Feeling a small noise of sheer dread escape him, Ado forced his limbs to propel himself even faster. His body was soaked in a cold sweat, hands and legs burning more than ever before.
"Pain is temporary." He thought to himself, unsure of why, exactly- not in the position to question what random thoughts happened across his fucked little mind while attempting to escape certain death.
The beastmen must have been content with their prey, because none appeared to trail after the young man.
That didn't stop him from running until his lungs felt like bleeding, of course.
Panting raggedly, body aching, he collapsed and rolled into the black dirt. Ado's bloodied hands trembled turbulently at the realization that he was blindly roaming farther into beastmen territory. The darkness of pre-dawn was oppressive, drowning him in more riptides of panic. He panted, lying on his side like a wounded animal. There was a mossy, amorphous boulder in front of him- or two? It doubled in his vision as he collected himself, his body staggering in its attempt to pull himself up. There was more moonlight in the area, exposing what could have been a lush, scenic jungle- if not for the shadow of death still nipping at his heels. Ado could not deny his humanity; his tomb of flesh was planted within the gift of Mother Nature as nothing but a vessel of flesh and fear.
After forever being told what to do, scolded on how to act and behave, after fighting his entire life to express free will, Adonis was finally granted freedom in the cruelest way.
Now, he floundered under the magnitude of possible decisions he could make, so many of which, if not all, would lead to his inevitable demise. Maybe this is what they wanted.
With no plan, no course of action, he was unused to having a say, unfamiliar with truly being alone- the outcast was lost, in every sense of the word.
This was life, though; one kick in the teeth to the next.
It may be a hit harder than he had ever experienced on his own, but the human survived worse. He would not keel over, cry, and whine about how unfair it was.
Ado wouldn't give those bastards the satisfaction.
"I'll live. I'll fuckin' live." Gritting his teeth, bitterness coursed through his blood as if it were laced within his very core.
There was no time to waste now that he could breathe again, regardless of how his legs and arms shook while he struggled to stand. Lifting his face, the exorbitantly green world around him spiraled. "Keep going." He growled internally, trying to keep track of where he was now that his head was somewhat back on his shoulders. He had never heard of a map for the deadlands; Adonis knew there wasn't one, not in human hands anyway. Humans rarely strayed from their colonies, hidden away from beastmen activity underground, on islands or in mountains.
There were rumors that a few roamed the mainland in small nomadic tribes;
Which had to be bullshit.
After spending such a short time out here, he couldn't imagine the survival rate was very high in the first place. There was no doubt why the human population disappeared so quickly during the initial fall centuries before. Ado recalled learning about Rena's massacre in school, how the entire community was devoured in a night by a handful of beastmen, those decades ago.
His mind was overtaken by hazel green eyes that had always been lit with righteous fire, Ado's shoulders slumped at the memory. Life really went to hell when that shithead died. The fool was damn determined to save the world, and look where it got him; in the stomach of a monster, surrounded by death and fire, miles from home. Adonis knew Som had gone down swinging; and God be damned, he'd probably end up doing the same. That man was an idiot, a crazy, idealistic fool. But he was still a hero, as naive as he could be… or had been.
What a sick twist of fate; Ado was now older than the man who raised him.
Why do the good go so early?
We didn't need Rena back. We needed you.
Visualizing what those last moments must have been like motivated him to stand, stooped and glowering. His hazy vision strayed to the past; Ado's feet scraped through the dull brown pine straw and old crumbled rocks as he pushed on.
What hell did you raise?
…Are you with me now?
Would we be catching frogs at the pond like we used to, if I stopped you that night?
Would you call me your brother today?
…Why? Why did you leave us?
The young man shuddered at the thought of how his kin must have felt towards the end. Envisioning running into a beast in his current state caused the hair on his neck to rise.
"Fuck." He mentally grumbled, ever the ray of sunshine. Som was a fighter, a damn good one.
He wasn't alone when they left for the wilds, not that it did them any good.
Kafele and Darius Malaika, Aren Araújo, Micah Guerra, Sam… it made him too ill to repeat the rest, even internally. The names had been ingrained into his consciousness after thirteen years of memorialization and deifying a man that needlessly risked and lost the lives of fifteen fucking people just to reclaim some stupid fucking land. As much as Adonis loved his brother, he could never understand what drove the bastard to do such a stupid fucking thing.
For pride? What good's pride, when yer dead? When you are all dead?
What's honor from a home that only loves you when you serve it?
Anger swirled within his battered body, ensnaring his heart and exuding a hot wave of regret down his ribs. The back of his forearm and side pressed against a spiny tree as he lurched forward, still caught in a tangled web of thoughts. He strayed through another dark patch of night, only seeing the thin lines of twigs and sweet grass around his feet. His mind reeled too fast to lift his head fully again; the rest of the forest was rendered unimportant.
Only Solomon's mark was recovered, even if no human went to reclaim it. As grateful as he was that it returned home, something wasn't right. "She said one of the Malaika's made it back to the head of the tunnels before passing, but they refused to send out search parties to look? Those caves were nearly 5 kilometers long, and it wasn't a safe or easy walk…" He learned that the hard way.
There was always something prickling at the back of his mind regarding Thetis. The colony leader always had an excuse, a perfectly crafted answer that everyone else was content to swallow- even if it made no goddamn sense.
Why didn't we have their mark too, if it was true? Why didn't she specify which Malaika made it home? Didn't Ayoka deserve the closure?
This was not the time to be distracted, pondering on the very civilization that sent him out to rot and ruin at the claws of these fiends. Adonis shook his head, ignoring the ugly ball of indignation churning in his gut upon the unwanted film rolling through his head. Ado wished he wasn't so shocked at the size of the crowd that gathered to watch his expatriation- or seeing the relief on all those faces before he had been pushed into the emigration tunnels that led into the very no-man's-land he traversed now.
Something was stinging in his body, a tension he couldn't locate the source of. Walking was difficult; his ankles and calves were unbearably tight, pulsating with every haggard step. But that wasn't what had been nagging at him, was it?
"How long's'it been since I ate real food? Drank clean water?" Trying to recall was enough to make his throat clench in realization, the dryness causing a raspy huff of air to break through his diaphragm. The small waterskin he'd obtained had been empty since the night before; he'd yet to find another water source that wasn't muddied or foul-smelling.
The young man stumbled, flinging his hands out instinctually; "Son of a bitch;" he cried out in a harsh whisper, his palm blazing lava as air hit previously unnoticed protrusions. "What the fuck;" he thought to himself, leaning against a thin, flaky pine tree that bowed against his weight. Adonis licked the roof of his mouth to lessen the dryness and gazed down at his hands; the bloody, trembling things. His upper lip curled into a pathetic frown, inner eyebrows raised in disdain and surprise: "There's shit in my hand," he thought dimly.
Once the shock passed, Ado shook his head to look around. The wilderness sang its lullaby of concealed violence and lovesong as always, leaving the human to mask his grievances and click his tongue with false bravado. Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Adonis glared at a shadow in the distance, dead ahead- his fingers pinched over the biggest twig making its parasitic ass home within his palm. "There're only three."
He gritted his jaw, hissed, then pulled it out without hesitation or decorum, leaving no time to second guess. He gasped through his teeth, snared and keeled over, then quickly reset to grab the second largest. "Two. Two. Two, it's just two." Each yank felt like lightning up his forearm, not only leaving a dirty wound and fresh blood pooling at the opening, but stealing pieces of himself with every splinter removed. The second was too close to the first; his eyes watered as a whimper strangled itself inside his throat. The sharp bark of the tree dug into his temple as sweat dripped down his jaw and neck, gluing his wild hair to clammy skin. His hand felt like it was falling to pieces. "It's okay, just this. It's small, it's okay. It's-" Adonis could feel himself wavering, the realization was enough to steel him. The exile scowled irascibly, shooting daggers at the smallest intruder, plucking it out without struggle.
Compared to the first two, it was the same as pulling a prickly sticker off a sock. The tears in his eyes welled and fell from the corners. He couldn't close his right palm or move his fingers; the agony of trying was enough to wrench out a stifled sob.
A nauseating heat permeated from within his head and seeped down, entrapping his clothing. Everything felt too tight, too wrong. Allowing more of his torso's weight to melt onto the tree, Ado leaned his head back, screwed his eyes shut and pressed his injured palm to his chest. He released a silent wheeze of discomfort at the sting of his injuries, trying to ignore the warmth of blood dotting his garments.
The wilds were alive, hell-bent on devouring every remnant of his ancestors' sins, the reparations being his very flesh and soul.
This was humanity's retribution, after all. The world writhed and quaked in agony in the midst of war, ripping open vast chasms that tore continents apart. We only laughed, unceasing in our hunger for destruction, gifting her carnage in a false promise of change. The fissures broke wider, and bestial aberrations crawled forth to enforce her long-begotten justice, bringing our reign as apex predators to a sanguine end- tearing our dystopian empire asunder.
Adonis was powerless compared to the extent of nature's fury, absurd enough to think the intensity of his yearning to live unbridled from the scrutiny and vehemence of society was enough to keep a weak, unprepared deviation like himself alive. He had always been keenly aware of just how unforgiving reality could be. Yet, despite that, a small part of his heart still sang beneath the pain, wearing an impassable, thorned mask of spite.
The wind was still now, but the trees danced.
Or was everything spinning?
It didn't matter.
Adonis still breathed; he still stood; therefore, he would keep marching.
The badlands had since returned to its natural melody of insect and bird warbling, but to the young man, it had amped up to a cacophonous chorus that made his head whirl- nearly drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. The brittle bark he flattened himself to splintered off down his neck, into his collared shirt, feeling unpleasantly itchy against sticky skin.
Ado's face was hot, stomach clenching as the taste of bile rose in his throat, mindlessly moving on. His legs dredged with the threat of dropping from beneath him with every precarious step.
"I'm not done." Words floated through his brain in a mantra, ghosting over his consciousness loosely, giving his body what little power was left. He was fueled by the defiant fire ever raging within his spirit. Ado would never admit how desperate the voice in his own mind was- allowing nothing to take away from the adrenaline forcing him far beyond his limits. Pushing off the tree that brought him no solace, the exile purposefully ignored his shaking arms and bloody hands.
His steps were slow, short and unbalanced, using other trees to pull himself farther away from whatever brutality he hoped to have escaped. The brunette blamed the dark spots growing in his vision on the time of night- or early morning, more appropriately.
The forest mocked Adonis, available trees spanning farther apart the more he trudged forward. Not that he realized, unaware of the break in the woods, his arms still swept cautiously in front of himself in the darkness. The unpleasant waves of heat passed, now chilled by drying sweat. Focusing on the task at hand was impossible, his mind murky as thoughts lost meaning- words now overtaken by something unwilling to be buried.
He knew he should have been paying attention to the world around him, but the pain plaguing him imprisoned his awareness, trapping the pariah to feel every ounce of emotion he'd been desperately avoiding in the name of 'survival.' His rage began to dampen, finding it more of a challenge to breathe. The physical illness he felt was nothing compared to the violent undulation of his heart.
Adonis's feet hit the remnants of a road, which had crumbled and turned into jagged gravel over centuries of neglect. Blinking blearily, his vision cleared enough to see moonlight casting a haunting glow over the wilderness. It was impossible to tell precisely what he was looking at, besides a heap of foliage and blurry masses obscured by shadows. His vision was shrouded by the weight of his limbs and the sensation of his stomach contracting; hunger gnawed at every muscle in his body.
The road was lighter than the dirt and grass; he had never seen asphalt before. His head drooped as he meandered; the boy wondered what this world once was, how beautiful Edesta could have been before the final war. How beautiful it is now. The crunch under his foot sounded just like the main roads of
"No." He steered his thoughts away, instead focusing on the delightful crunching beneath his sneakers that distracted him from his current distress. If he survived this, he had the whole world to discover.
Ado's hands hit something cold, heavy, and rusted. The young man's breath hitched in his throat, anxiety spiking. His injured palm screamed profanities as hellfire swarmed his arm. Steadying his breathing the best he could, the human's head spun. Swallowing thickly, the curly-haired boy leaned forward. He closed his eyes, resting on his uninjured palm while protecting the other against his chest. Feeling the cool remnant of corroded metal against his forehead, Adonis released a shaky sigh.
"I can't…" a small, timid voice dared to whisper within the depths of his mind before he cut it off. Wrathfully pushing it away, the exile exhaled sharply out his nose and opened his eyes, feeling the corners of his mouth weigh down.
He was tired.
It began to take more effort to hold himself up, his legs dragging harder with every haggard step. He inspected the old wreckage, using his elbow as support; Adonis leaned against the half-buried machine and shuffled around it until he found the cab. The doors were sealed shut by age; he knew he wouldn't be able to hoist himself over the hood in this condition. There would be no relaxing without working for it first. Trying his damnedest to nudge what was left of the roof up with his good forearm, the boy managed to lift a bit of the ancient, weather-worn scrap and crawl into the vehicle through a freshly made gap between the door and frame. The musty smell of the interior violated his nostrils; Ado attempted to push the scent out with a few forceful puffs of air, but it only worked for a fraction of a second. His surroundings doubled and swirled around him in a nauseating waltz.
Too lethargic to curse, he fell to his knees within the wreckage while tightly hugging his bag. Using the back of the uninjured hand to prop himself up as he crawled in, Ado finally settled in and reclined against the rotten upholstery, legs splayed in the thin patches of grass. What just happened sunk into him slowly, threatening to topple what semblance of a facade he was holding together. The night grew cooler, but remained humid; his body was damp with sweat as his eyelids grew heavier. Scowling miserably, a pang of disappointment stabbed him upon the realization that he couldn't see the sky from the position; was he not allowed the slightest bit of relief? The brunette's body was a boulder, arms slumped to his sides with his head leaned back, stuck to whatever you would call this Godforsaken hunk of rot he hid in now.
The crickets hummed, frogs sang, all other life went on.
Why is it only me struggling? No matter how brave a face, how genuine a smile, or how hard I fight, shit like this always happens. I'm the only one knocked on my ass, the only one forced to face the consequences. And not a single soul fucking cares.
"Actually, shut the fuck up." Ado stopped himself sharply, not allowing his melodramatic self-pity to fester into delusion. There was one person who always had his back. No matter how far, no matter how many seconds, days, or years it had been since their last meeting- he would always have faith there was good, somewhere out there. Even if only one person was praying for him, it was enough to keep him from spiraling down an abyss he'd seen so many dive head-first into before.
Nothing could take their years of shared joy from him.
Not death, no beast, nor God itself could steal his few moments of peace with the few who tried to understand him. Their efforts may have been awkward at the moment; it meant the world to Adonis now.
Breathing deeply, the young man squeezed his eyes closed to rid that burning sensation he abhorred, gritting his jaw again.
He couldn't think about this. Not now, not here.
Adonis's thoughts tormented him; no matter how swiftly he ran, they chased him just as mercilessly.
Thinking of his last moments in the colony caused his heart to twist; faces he didn't want to recall made it harder to breathe without heaving soft tufts of air that intensified the tingling of his cheeks. Ado gritted his teeth before sighing a pathetic sound and swallowing it. He watched a trail of ants wander over the trim of what once was the heap of metal's windshield, the insects' bodies weaving and swirling. The movement only distracted his thoughts for a few moments, reminded by his shoulder bag's strap digging into his neck. It simultaneously ground him to reality and pulled him farther into the past. Ado let his fingers trail lightly over the soft fabric, staring vacantly through a small hole in the roof of the wreckage he nestled himself into.
"I need to find water tomorrow, more than anything." He tried to avoid his memories with rationality, but the bottle he'd been stuffing with shame for years had already begun to leak, eyes growing wet.
His bloodied hand snaked up to his neck, where the necklace he shouldn't have had was still safely tucked into his bandages. Feeling its strings was enough to push an involuntary gasp of relief from his lungs; he closed his eyes while removing it from the hiding place. He clenched the sage green crystal hard enough to feel it digging into his wounds; a few more drops of blood dripped down the side of his wrist from the underside of his palm.
The pain wasn't enough to keep his tears at bay.
Nothing mattered in this moment, other than the debilitating grief weighing down his weary mind. The brunette sat, anger and dismay filling his eyes with water that burned the skin. Pressing his good palm on one eye and knuckles in the other, Ado tried to mash the weakness out of himself. Tears defied his will, still falling through the intense pressure of his filthy hands.
That necklace was all he had of home; no matter how much he hated that place, nor how empty this wretched thing made him feel- it was the only connection he had left. The echoes of his life from before filled this dull crystal, buzzing with a warmth he never received from mankind itself. Another sharp intake of breath left him reeling, holding the artifact to his forehead with his eyes screwed shut as he fought the thoughts that tore him to shreds.
The man's shoulders shook; years of pleading to be accepted now dredged into an unfathomable candle of wrath that scorched his being.
All he ever wanted, was to be himself.
Who was harmed by allowing such a thing?
What made his existence such a sin?
Adonis was lost to melancholy, silent sobs wracking every breath before he began to hiccup.
What a pathetic show of a man he was.
Maybe they were right.
Ado no longer cared to hide his cries of anguish, praying for a violent end;
anything to cease this harrowing ache in his chest.
Having faith that he would one day live a better tomorrow was something that always foolishly drove him forward.
Yet today, as dawn approached, perhaps the young man had grown a bit wiser.
Unsurprisingly, his celestial-bound pleas went unanswered.