Inked Wings
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE - Accepted Doom

/ Noel’s POV /

My brain’s buzzing. Everything’s cold and dark.

Someone just pushed a pole through my throat and pulled it outta my uncomfortable ass, feels like. Do I even want to open my eyes?

Last thing I remember is getting shit on emotional wise and body wise.

Can’t even feel the mask on anymore. Lost that too, that’s absolutely great.

What the stars did I ever do to deserve this torture? This layer of anticipation makes me want to rip off my skin.

It’s like when you haven’t continued a series you’re invested in in a while and now you’re too anxious and dead inside to want to live through it. Dogshit.

My life is a literal shit-show lately.

...someone’s mumbling.

I open my eyes to bars. Behind them is meditating an old dude.

Why’s he – wait...I’m the one behind the shock wall. That’s about right.

He must be some soldier or some crap. Not in the mood for this but okay.

He looks me in the eye and smiles.

Creep.

He says some stuff but my head is whirring with pain, I can’t make out nothin’. My vision’s blurry now and then. I must be drunk-all concussed.

Definitely not high. I wish I was high as balls. None of this would be real.

I would wake up to Abi’s intense stare.

But that ain’t happening.

Every time I even think of his corpse a little I wanna bash my head into the wall.

I wanna end it.

That ain’t happening either.

I catch a few fancy words spoken by this hag in front of me. Kinda talks like Abi. Uttermost literate you can’t help but steal some of his speech.

Just now, I said “utmost”. ....right?

...

I wanna die. But Abi didn’t die for nothing. I tried to continue his work but I’m useless.

I don’t know how to save people. My helping has been nothing but seen as a burden. By that turd with wings outta all dicks.

Can you believe that?

I snicker.

Hag suddenly isn’t here anymore.

I feel dizzy.

I wanna – ugh – kill something.

Not really. Imma barf.

...

I want to wreck stuff up. My body too weak to do that though.

I’m too out of it to know if I’ve fallen asleep or disassociated for hours.

My vision isn’t as blurry. Instead everything’s pale like I’m going to the afterlife right now.

Some shadows drag me out of the cell.

Is this a dream?

The stench of my stomach juice imprinted on my clothes is too strong for it to be fake. My knees hurt, keeping on cleaning their cursed floors.

I want home.

Lights are blaring, argh.

I want Abi.

Even shitty Angel’s company is better than this nonsense. He is so annoying.

Right now I don’t feel real. I want to feel something. I want to feel.

Bit by bit I become a little more lucid.

Shit-stains throw me headfirst in some small room. I legit don’t even know if it’s that small. It’s all me in here.

I sigh...ain’t bothering to get up.

I’m falling asleep.

I probably should try and stay aw –

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