Page 23 of Neon Pestilence
The Doctor hasn't stopped looming in the corner, like some creepy ass stalker. He’s watching me through his mask, and it makes it so hard to gauge what he’s thinking. Is he curious? Upset? Or simply just watching?
I’m just watching you, angel,he replies.
I practically drop the body I’m dragging.
“How did you hear that?” I stutter.
The essence. I’ve been able to hear you since the beginning.
Shit. Shit. Shit. That means he knows everything. He knows I don’t trust him. He knows I think he’s hot as sin. He knows it all. Fuck.
You think I’m hot, little raver?
“I-uh, I…” I trail off, not exactly sure how to respond.
Come with me, angel.Reaching his hand out toward me, I hesitate for just a moment before intertwining my fingers with his.
We don’t travel far, just to the opposite edge of the clearing. He pulls me into the forest a few steps deeper, and I’m met with a view that takes my breath away.
We stand there at the head of the festival, on top of a hill positioned just behind the main stage. From here, we can see everything. Every stage, every vendor, every dancing body.
Lasers dance above the crowd, smoke rising high above it, like some kind of fog.
“They look…happy,” I sigh to myself. It’s almost overwhelming seeing it like this. I never realized how many people and how big the festival actually was.
They do,he states plainly.For now.
He waves his hand across the view, like some old-fashioned magician or something. A laugh nearly escapes my lips, but then I see it. Everything shifts.
Colors become muted, and the smell of rot and decay replaces the sticky sweetness of the weed smoke that was here just moments ago.
Like some kind of twisted mirage that hides the truth from the world. It’s not happy. It’s not beautiful.It’s infected.The perfect version of an uncanny valley. So close to being truly human, but something is just…off.
Warm leather slides between my fingertips as The Doctor places his hand in mine. The silence I have when I’m with him is something I could never take for granted. The quiet of us, just being. But something is tugging at my soul– my selfish need to hear him again.
I’m sorry I hurt you. The words swirl in my head.I never could’ve known that you were going to be the one who was marked. The way it showed Tommy wasn’t the same as what I saw. I only saw you; you’re light. I was completely blinded.And I forgot about the task I had given him last year.He explains, his voice quivers, but sounds remorseful.
“It’s okay,” I breathe out, the pads of my fingers running along his worn gloves. “Neither of us could’ve known this is what it would come to.” My words are soft, barely heard over the loud music blaring from the festival below.
You’ve become the cure I never knew I needed. I swore to rid this world of pestilence, a duty I’ve held since before I understood its weight. But now I only want you to take my infection. Rid me of it like a parasite being ripped from its burrow. I’m bound to you as infection is bound to the pestilence. I have no cure. I only wish for yours.
His words sink into my skin like how it feels to sit in a warm bath after a long day. I scooch in closer to his chest. He towers above me, his pointed beak pointing high above my head.
I don’t say anything. If there’s one thing I’ve learned by being with him. Silence isn’t as empty as I once thought. Now it’s filled with him.
The stillness reminds me of his mask pressed against my ear, his touch lingering on my body. He taught me to listen, even when something isn’t spoken, to feel the energy buzzing through the air before he finds my skin, to hear the confessions stitched between each other's heartbeats.
Our worlds were never meant to collide. But here I am, standing next to death above the neon lights, and I’m realizing it feels like home.
Chapter 22
The Doctor
“Take me down there.” It’s not a request, it’s a demand.
My little raver is curious. She’s seeing the world for what it truly is. No more rose-tinted glasses, no more illusions. Just raw, unfiltered infection.
I lead her down to the crowds, watching as she passes through like a ghost. Her eyes are wide, tracking every person, checking their differences. I know she can see their blackened veins, the sunken faces, the infection bleeding out of them.
