Kenneth had always felt a bit different.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”
The idea was she would stand naked, or as naked as she could stand, in front of the mirror and read the words out loud every day.
…everything was going to be just fine.
“Never let it be said that the apocalypse wasn’t beautiful.”
“I know what you’re thinking.” He said as he slipped the last of his martini down his throat. “Does he come here often? The answer is no.”
Marcus wrote the words hoping that getting them out of his head and onto paper would somehow make the nightmare go away, but like the bite of hard liquor or the smell of rotten meat, that kind of isolation lingered.
The words scrawled across the walls read,
‘Only two ways to enter.’
If you were offered a potion that could make all your wildest dreams come true, but at the end of an hour you’d die, would you take it?
It had all happened to fast but had felt like the perfect storm, a breakthrough to a world he didn’t know existed.