"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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MurderWeasel
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Somehow we drifted off too far...
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Josh said something about moving. Everett couldn't even pay attention. Every facet of his being was focused on rejecting the horror in front of him. This was his new reality, though, and boy was it grim. Sooner or later they'd all end up like Remi. They'd all be dead, stinking up the air. Everett didn't know if he believed in an afterlife. He hoped there was one. That meant, when this was all over, he'd have somewhere to go, something besides nothing to look forward to.

He sort of doubted it, though. No deity, well, no good or kind one, would have allowed Remi to be lying there headless.

Various fluids, primarily tears, spit, and puke, were oozing down Everett's chin. He couldn't focus on anything. He was trying to push himself out of this place, retreat in his mind to somewhere better. He could be back at school. At school, waiting for Mrs. Bishop.

Wait. Wait, she was dead. Dead, just like Remi. Oh god. Oh god. Dead like Everett would be soon.

What could he do? There was nothing. Not a thing. He just stayed there, heaving again and again as the smell of blood assailed him.
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Dude, how come I feel like i'm not in Kansas anymore? · The Mountain