A SONG WAILS ACROSS THE ISLAND.
It is a song you have not heard of before, but... You know this grief. You know of it. You know it so deeply. The sun sets as the moon rises, but it rises with a bloodred hue. The nuns herd themselves like lambs to run back to their covenant, and you are left to your own devices. Moans bellow in the ocean, the forest creaks with agony, and the earth splits itself in half. The unloved weep, dragging their wretched claws as their heart breaks. Again and again. A chill runs down the back of your spine as you feel the air grow heavy. The ringing in your ears begins to grow— suddenly replaced with the shrill noise from the speakers— then, a voice.
" This is an emergency announcement. This is not a drill. All students and faculty members are strongly advised to stay indoors for the time being. If absolutely urgent, please be sure to go in pairs and groups, or ask for any of the faculty staff or nuns to accompany you for your safety. I repeat; do not venture out on your own. When you see them, do not engage. Do not make yourself known, and always run if possible. If injured, please seek medical assistance from the nearest staff member. Know that we will do our best to protect you. And above all else... ...Pray. Not just for your fellow schoolmates or for yourself... but for Her Mercy. "
You have until June 6, writers. Best to write your last words.
