E V E N T : [ covet ] & happy snowtide.
a wish for the impossible; a wish that both could not and should not have been granted, for the false angel who desires it most has committed the foulest of sins. it is one that cannot be forgiven. the only one possessing the power to offer even the briefest of salvations is no longer present. besides, in this world where he, too, has been judged as a sinner, what right does he have to speak against the twin beings presiding over the festival called ‘snowtide’?
i want my parents back. i wanted to be loved by them.
that desire is taken, twisted, and left on one young girl’s doorstep in the form of a small, pink parcel ( a cruel accessory to the other item given to her by this city—that pink bike which rests outside her apartment ). when rachel opens her eyes that morning, when she gets ready to go about her day and sets one foot out against crisp white snow—she sees the gift, sees her own name on it, and not suspecting a thing, opens it.
it is that moment where she evokes hell itself.
a gasp tears its way from her throat when the smoke first clears and warm arms wrap around her; it soon spreads into an expression of shock when naught but the scent of her mother’s perfume envelops her. “what… ” and then she sees her father in the background as well, his lips spread into a wide grin to match—
she sees the foot-long, giant needle come to rest against her own flesh before fully comprehending its meaning. eyes wide, not processing the situation but looking down to see a pinprick of red beginning to seep through into the white fabric of her cardigan. it has pierced the skin, but just barely. her mouth opens once. closes, then on the second try releases a weak: “mom… dad… ?”
they’re saying something about punishment—about giving her back the same things she’d ‘given’ to them. as her father holds the needle in place, her mother begins looping red thread through its head; the world starts to spin then, and when both of her ‘parents’ erupt into frenzied, hysterical laughter, she squeezes her eyes shut.
this wasn’t what i wanted.
unseen by any of those present, the tag on rachel’s gift flutters to the ground, revealing a single name scrawled on the ‘from’ side before vanishing: jesenia.
zack holds in his hand a small little box, neatly tied together with a little bow in his hands. he stares at it, confused how it got in his room in the first place. could it have been one of his asshole roommates barged into his room to steal something and accidentally dropped it?
well, that’s a little far-fetched.
there is a little tag with some letters he barely recognizes. there seems to be a ‘z’ and a ‘j’. there are many others written, but even if he can recognize them individually, there’s no way he can piece together the meaning. he never learned how to read. his little scribbles back in the room didn’t help him learn at all.
but whatever, he found it so he gets to open it, right?
first, he shakes the gift, trying to figure out what’s inside by sound. there’s nothing -- which is strange. did someone think it was funny to get him a little box with absolutely nothing inside? is this some sort of prank show that the city he’s in was hosting? he’d be piss if that was the case.
but, no point in speculating. he unties the ribbon and then lifts the cover of the box--
“ow....” zack sits up. his ears are ringing loudly, drowning out the sounds of the world around him. his head also hurts... a lot. “what the fuck--” he starts, before he stares at the snowy white city around him.
this isn’t where he was a second ago.
“what the fuck!” he repeats, this time way louder. he couldn’t figure out what happened. how did this happen? why is he here and--
“ray!” he calls out, looking around him, unable to see the girl he was with mere moments ago. his eyes widen, his heart pounds against his chest. there’s a sense of dread that something has gone wrong -- something has gone extremely wrong. “ray -- where are you?!” he calls out, walking off to a random direction in hopes he could find her. he held onto that slither of hope he can despite the unknowns in his situation.
zack wanders for a long time, trying to figure out where he is (the residents he talked to provided little to no help and he would’ve killed them if he wasn’t looking for ray) and trying to figure out where ray is. is she not... wherever he is right now? did something happen to her as she was climbing out of the window with him?
he stops in his track when he crazy, maniacal laughter. he stopped mostly because he’s absolutely ticked off by others having fun. can’t help it but kill them, even when he’s trying to find the most important friend in his life. a friend he swore an oath for. he resists, he really tries, but old habits die hard.
zack looks over and -- there she is. white stained with a growing red.
“ray!” without much hesitation, he starts running towards rachel. she can’t die here. she can’t die by someone else’s hands.
“goddamnit, you fucks!” without a weapon, zack resorts to his fists, punching with every bit of his strength the man holding the needle. it knocks the man off balance and he stumbles from the blow -- but it doesn’t last long. a moment of surprise flickers across zack’s face. his blows usually would knock someone down (for longer, at least).
the man’s face twists into an unholy expression. the lady nearby makes a similar face. the killing intent is almost visible.
but, there’s no time for zack to deal with these people -- not when ray has a needle in her stomach. he scoops her into his arms... and runs. she’s as light as he remembers. “hold on,” he says, turning to run the opposite direction and find somewhere safe to take care of her wounds. “you can’t die here, ray,” he tells her.
“you can’t make me a liar!”
