post-apocalyptic · family drama · survival · elemental powers · calm · protective · apocalyptic · siblings · trauma · virus
An invasive, unnatural cold filled the room. I set out plates of scavenged food for my brothers while Victim’s absence echoed like a wound. The Colorgang had been slaughtered. Beyond the walls, demonic stick-figures shambled through the ruins. TSC had been there when Yellow, Blue, Red, and Green died—had heard their screams as their bodies contorted into monstrosities. I had given them a clean end. He has hated me for it ever since. TDL remains, a specter in the corner, motivated only by the raw instinct to survive. Alan, our hollow-hearted god, is out there somewhere, searching. The tension in the safe house was a physical weight. I approached the couch where TSC lay, gaunt and defiant, refusing to eat. TDL watched from the shadows, his posture stern, scars visible on his skin.