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His congenial expression seemed genuine. What a creep.
He clapped with excitement, like we weren’t literal hostages being held in a cave against our will. I want whatever fancy Spartan antidepressants he’s on.
Now I suffered for my inactivity.
Relatable queen
I breathed heavily (asphyxiated) and concentrated on not committing amicide.
Vorex yelled something, but I couldn’t hear him over my suicidal thoughts. The path narrowed. On the left was a jagged cliff—one wrong step and I’d be dead. Hopefully.
How do I summon a Titan so he kills me? Immediately.
Mental note—physical exertion makes me homicidal. Avoid anything above a brisk walk.
Titus said something else, but I stopped listening, because I had free will.
“That’s it, let it out,” Nyx said. “Take deep, calming breaths. It’s totally normal to spit up blood. Very common.”
God had his favorites—I was not one of them.
Spoiler, he was deranged.
Vorex trailed off and muttered something under his breath about pathetic, weak bitches. I would have been offended, but I was too busy trying to find my will to live, like the aforementioned pathetic, weak bitch. The edge of the mountain was looking mighty tempting.
Nothing was humorous these days. People needed to learn to accept the energy of the dark times.
Time stretched as the sun marched slowly across the sky, a frantic melody played in my head, and I learned something very important: running downhill was not easier than running uphill. There was no justice in this cruel world.
I moved away from him. My roster of friends was full. Yes, Nyx took up every spot. She had a big (deranged) personality.
“I could eat that creature in three bites,” Nyx hissed, and I discreetly slapped her. “You ruin my life,” she muttered, then let out a loud, raspy snore as she immediately fell asleep. I envied her lifestyle.
It’s a dead language for a reason. Someone needs to kill it again. Also, whoever invented it should be stabbed twenty-three times in the back.
Why am I so hateable? I’m literally just trying to live a good (short) life.
I didn’t even have enough energy to die, if it came down to it (hopefully it would).
I didn’t run from my demons. I fed them, and now I was the demon.
I blamed my state of exhaustion for noticing the dozens of veins on Augustus’s tan forearm. It was unfair how attractive he was. The cute raccoon hanging off him also really helped. I wonder if there’s an inappropriate drawing of him on the Spartan Lifestyle Page? The baby onesie I’d been wearing when the orphanage found me also had “1/23/2080” embroidered on it in gold stitching. They thought it was my birthday, which meant I was an Aquarius. An ancient magazine at the library said I had an independent, loyal, quiet, and easily distracted personality. Apparently, I was distracted by smutty
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I prayed with everything I had, but in a highly upsetting turn of events, a Titan did not suddenly appear and violently murder me. There’s no justice left in this cruel world. Dark times indeed.
A man was speaking, so I stopped listening.
How the world worshipped the cruel man in front of me was beyond my comprehension. Sure, he was interesting to look at, but so was magma before it burned you alive.
Suddenly the old beliefs that women had “hysteria” problems didn’t seem so far-fetched. I could see it. Case in point, I was a woman, and I was hysterical.
Eat the rich.
The audacity of man persists.
My entire existence has been a fluke. Somehow, my life defies all mathematical odds, and it always gets worse.
Whoever he’s obsessed with should immediately kill themselves.
“If you dare harm yourself,” he rasped softly, high cheekbones glinting like razor blades, “I’ll bring you back to life and torture you for all of eternity.”
I opened my mouth to respond (plead for mercy and beg for a quick death), but he’d already disappeared down the hall.
During the day, the feminine urge to lead a fictional revolt plagued me.
Professor Pine gave us a thumbs-up, and the raven perched on his shoulder tilted its head to the side. Don’t give me that look, bird. I know you’re a surveillance drone.
I’d made a point of learning their names. It was always good to know the people you’d die in front of.
Maximum was short with brown eyes, blond hair, and blue highlights. (Also, apparently his parents hated him because they named him after a limit. Who did that?)
General Cleandro was at the front desk, idly reading a book, which was probably titled How to Effectively Torture People While Exerting the Least Effort Possible.
I would have done unholy things for a sip of water and ten minutes of sleep—like, sell my organs on the black market type of things. Who needs a gallbladder or a kidney? Not me. For the right price, I might even throw in some fingers and teeth.
Augustus said as he turned and glared hatefully down at me (not cute).
I learned something: grown men should never say the word tingling aloud. It made it weird.
“My longest is two hours—but who knows.” Theros winked (at me? help) and flexed.
Note to self: stand close to Theros when you try to kill him. I chuckled to myself at the thought, then frowned. Apparently, I now found murder funny. This was rock-bottom.
As an unsexy being that just wanted to rot in peace, the siren lifestyle was not relatable.
Free the nipple, lips (vaginal), and sirens from sexual servitude.
you’ll gain access to the local symposium.” Where all the buxom sirens are subjugated? I’d rather not. Augustus continued, “There will be food at the symposium.” Sign me up. I’ve always wanted to meet the sirens. They sound like good, hardworking, big-breasted people.
Is he trying to recruit me for a cult? I’d read that was a big problem happening these days. Dark times and all.
“I will bite the Titus kid for you...right now. You won’t need to worry about him ever again.” “No,” I whispered and grabbed at her invisible body. Nyx made a dramatic noise but didn’t struggle. “You stifle my creativity,” she said as she nuzzled her face against my palm.
“I’m an artist. The ways I can make a person scream with violent terror.”
Professor Pine greeted us with a big, toothy smile. What is wrong with him?
“You’re the next one to die, bitch.” Hopefully.
I missed my high school bully. Things were truly tragic.
