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The lack of progress he was making on this whole “finding his friends” thing was really starting to annoy him at this point.

((Jeremy Frasier, continued from If You Don’t Like What We Say, Try Living Here A Couple Days))

Jeremy had been moving. Through the asylum. He’d been here since he left the bridge and he’d been lurking the hallways and yet everywhere he went he couldn’t seem to find anyone. Friend or foe. Maybe if he’d headed into some more of the rooms he would have found people, but the ones he checked had nobody and the ones he didn’t check had noises he really didn’t like coming out of them. Sure, maybe those rooms actually had the people he was trying to look for, but what did you expect him to think? ‘Oh, there are gunshots and shouts coming from this room maybe I should go check it out but wait no maybe I should actually because maybe it is someone I know in there and fuck I don’t even know at this point just go just and figure it out.’

Point was, he was on the roof now. He’d climbed the stairs thinking that they’d lead him to another floor but as it turned out, no, this was it. There was a brick surface surrounded with a slope which Jeremy presumed would lead to certain death, and there was nothing else above it. Well, there was the sky - grey or purple, Jeremy couldn’t really decide what the colour was supposed to be - the clouds, and probably the wind as well, but he couldn’t reach any of those. No stairs. No ladder. At least he supposed nobody was up there. Unless they were dead and you subscribed to that theory that all the dead people were in the sky. It was a cool one. Meant that this life probably wasn’t the end. Ideally. Hopefully, at the very least.

He didn’t know for sure, though. Maybe there wasn’t a place like that.  It was why these last days were so important. It was why now was so important, and it was why this constant inability to find anyone he was looking for was really starting to get to him.

Point was, he was up here, and he still hadn’t seen anyone.

“Oh, uh…”


Except for the corpse and the person standing right behind it.

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Miss Atomic Bomb · The Rooftop