Ever After [Tom & Brik]

It was nice being taken away from the hell of the Games, but then there was the frightening journey into the unknown. Death.

[/color] Surprisingly surreal and serene – you knew you were okay and safe, and yet you were still nervous. What was ahead? Where were you going? It was just a swirl of colors, splashing of white flashing across swirls of grey and black. You felt a rushing sensation along with the feeling of weightlessness, and then everything was still.

Coming to your senses, you open your eyes to a very familiar sight: a dark and moldy roof. For a moment you’re confused – I thought I was dead?[/color] – and as your gaze drifts around, you notice that nothing in your basement “bedroom” has been moved at all. Everything is just as you left it that morning before – even your torch. You quickly swing your legs over the side of the blanket hammock and hop down, making a bee-line to the torch. You reach out to grab it but it just slips through your fingers. A gasp sounds from you and you swipe at it again, only to get the same result. Why can’t I grab it?[/color] You stick out your other hand and are not able to grab it again. Then the panic sets in.

Scrambling, you dart up the stairs, putting out your hand to catch the knob as you always do – but your hand glides right through and, from the velocity of you moving, your body quickly followed straight through the rough wooden door. Coming to a quick stop in the hallway, your gaze turns back to the door you always tried to sneak through in the mornings unnoticed. What…?[/color] You look down and to your horror your body isn’t the solid scarred thing it used to be; instead, you see through your body, right to the floor.

Your hand absentmindedly shoots up to your neck, feeling nothing but an eerily smooth surface. I really am dead.[/color]

Falling from your neck, your hand rests against your chest, clutching at invisible fabric. If I’m dead then where is everyone else?[/color] Slowly and completely soundlessly you creep down the hall, searching for any signs of life. Tempus is abnormally quiet and that puts you off. Step after step carries you past the empty stage, through the lifeless kitchen, and eventually to a row of doors that you know so well. Deciding to check each of them, you quietly approach Rio’s and, remembering your previous experience, don’t even bother trying to grab the doorknob. You hesitantly lean forward, closing your eyes as your face closes in on the wooden body of the door – you never hit it despite what half of you was saying. You just faze right through; opening your eyes, you see people and your breath catches in your throat.

”… Rio?”


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