stories
stories i write. some with assistance from others, some fully of my own
The ghosts have rejected Aura's application for afterlife once more.
Void's eyes snapped open to the sound of sirens in the distance and the cold bite of water pressing into her lungs. Gasping, coughing, choking, she surfaced like an airport terminal miraculously surviving the CrowdStrike incident - spitting river water and blood under a violet night sky.
Every nerve screamed like it was on fire...
Warning
This storyline is a work of fiction.
It has absolutely no connection to her personal life.
...right?
The bridge loomed like the spine of a dead god, crumbling and whispering ruin. Faulty fluorescent lighting flickered on the rusted rails, casting deep pink and violet hues across Aura's face - shadows of who she used to be. Her fingers hovered just above the ledge, cold and wind-burned, trembling with the kind of quiet that only comes after screaming for hours inside your own mind.
She was so, so tired...