The black and gray particles swirled as a gust of wind swept through.
My city lay in ruins, but its population kept growing.
Here I was feared and welcomed by my faithful, a world made possible through words and dreams, of death and departure.
This in-between world, suspended between the void and the land my army once walked, was their haven - my sanctuary.
I entered the crumbling concrete building that I called my 'office' and was greeted by my right-hand man. Its walls were charred and there was no roof.
But I liked the row of metal cabinets that lined one side and a desk made of a stone slab that always felt cold to the touch.
"Peter, how many this week?"
The man bled from the wrists he had slit himself. Foolishly.
Good thing I got to him before he was wasted into nothingness.
I was particularly fond of those who took their own lives. They were hard to catch, but once I did, they were often more capable than the rest.
"Six, sir."
Not even one per day.
I was in no hurry, but laziness is a sin.
"Are Chris and Thomas getting along?"
"They are getting along very well, sir."
"How wholesome."
That made me chuckle.
People here forgot the joy and pain of their lived lives, but humans were resilient. They always found ways to adapt and find new ways to bond.
Social species and all that.
"So if I'm correct, we have 127 in total now."
I did not need verification. I just wanted to give Peter a chance to answer.
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Keep the records."
I stretched my neck, tilting it from one side to side. I could hear the clicks of my bones.
"Sir, may I ask something?" Peter was already asking a question.
"Shoot."
"How many do you intend to collect, sir?"
"As many as we need."
"And how many is that…sir?"
I poked his chest with my finger. He winced in pain, because here, I could inflict it.
"What, are you going to help bring more people here if I told you I needed one million?"
"One… One million?!"
"I'm just kidding."
I shrugged and sat on the leather chair.
Maybe my dad had a similar one in his office where he worked.
I placed my elbows on the table and rubbed my temples.
I had been feeling increasingly tired lately.
Chris was running outside the school building just yesterday. If I continued like this, I might have a horde of this miserable bunch tailing me through the school hallways between classes.
Then I heard a girl's voice call me from behind. A sound that didn't belong here.
"Hi…"
"What?"
I was startled by the voice that shouldn't have been here, and as I turned, I was back in the classroom, sitting at my desk, now facing the diminutive girl - Katie the Squirrel.
"How… did you do that?"
I asked her, my voice uneven.
She looked at her shoes, fidgeted, and mumbled something I couldn't hear.
Just a coincidence - I realized.
The squirrel just happened to call me at the exact moment I was back.
"Do you… really like history?"
I blinked a few times, puzzled.
Was this because of what I said yesterday about Nagasaki?
"I suppose I do," I decided to entertain her for a bit.
"That's really cool." She rubbed her fingers against each other.
"Do you like Nagasaki?" I asked her this time.
"No… I mean - yes, I mean no, I wouldn't know. I've never been to Nagasaki."
I wouldn't be so cruel to bully her the way the three abhorrent girls in my class did, but I could kinda see how some people would enjoy at least toying with her.
"But I do like history too."
"I see."
I didn't quite know what more to say.
"Do you… do you…"
The girl started to blush, right up to the tip of her ears, then I saw Jacie approach her from behind, then the squirrel fell to the ground as she was shoulder-bumped on the back. Hard.
"Ha! Watch where you are going!"
Jacie yelped. Vicky and Mel, her two lackeys, stood behind her and giggled.
I thought about getting rid of them, not for the first time, but I didn't want any girls in my sanctuary.
I rose and reached to help Katie up.
Mel looked at me with the face that said, 'Why would you do that?'
She didn't ask, of course, but my response would have been just a return of the same question.
People are cruel.
The world is cruel.
And it is an even crueler joke that people are led to believe there is such a thing as justice and karma.
Then I felt it again - a slash through the air.
Before I could do anything, the thread cut through Katie's head just as I was picking her up. Her body fell into my arms as her head rolled. She didn't even get to close her eyes.
Blood splashed all over me - and onto the Three Whores from the East, which is what I sometimes called them as they sat on the east side of the classroom.
I didn't like this at all.
Another vision - but how? And when?
Once I blinked, Katie's head was back on her neck. She found herself at the mercy of my embrace, freaked out, and ran away. The Three Whores laughed their heads off - metaphorically, this time.
Is it you, Mary?
There were no answers.