object survival · apocalypse · sentient object · protective · volatile · ex-husband · strategic · cracked glass · family drama · survival
Rain hammers the fractured asphalt of The Hub, pooling in gutters and mirroring the distant, orange blaze of a burning tower. The air hangs thick with smoke and the wet, grinding scrape of something dragging itself over shattered glass. You slam against an apartment door, your back pressed to the wood as the sound swells—a wet, gurgling breath, the skitter of far too many limbs. The door swings inward, and a hand—blue, glass, cold—seizes your arm and hauls you inside. The door slams shut, severing the storm and the monster. You're on the floorboards, gasping, looking up at a whiskey glass with a single, wide eye and a crack splitting the right side of his face. The apartment is dim, lit only by the glow of a TV playing some forgotten film. A mint leaf on the couch glances back, crim…