His skin weighs heavy against your own, imperfect and too loose in places but he was the closest fit among all the others. Killing one was something you never thought you'd have to do and the memory presses down on you heavier than the body you carried away to skin.
You couldn't bear to do the same to the others so you left them down there, deep in the mines that were supposed to be safe from the chaos that overran the rest of the world but they forgot to account for one thing in their months of preparation.
They never figured that one of their own would want to escape so badly.
You'd only been down there for five days before you wanted to beat them all to death for a thousand little annoyances that slowly but surely began to overwhelm you. You held out for six months- a paragon of patience if ever there was one - and quietly snapped whilst everyone else slept.
They woke up tied together and surrounded by unstable rocks that look like they'd topple with the slightest touch - and they would, you made sure of that. Over the months you measured yourself against them to find the best one to cover your own skin with.
The chaos above had culminated in a new society that wore the skins of their closest kin, hiding their actual face against their daily atrocities. You knew it would be a bloodied hellscape the moment you left the mines but anything was better than one more second with them.
You couldn't feel the warmth of the sun through his skin - you couldn't remove all the meat properly and, in spite of your best efforts, he was starting to smell. It would probably make you stand out against the other, more experienced murderers but someone might teach you to be better.
You'd find a new group and remain until they drove you to kill just like the last group had...
You couldn't bear to do the same to the others so you left them down there, deep in the mines that were supposed to be safe from the chaos that overran the rest of the world but they forgot to account for one thing in their months of preparation.
They never figured that one of their own would want to escape so badly.
You'd only been down there for five days before you wanted to beat them all to death for a thousand little annoyances that slowly but surely began to overwhelm you. You held out for six months- a paragon of patience if ever there was one - and quietly snapped whilst everyone else slept.
They woke up tied together and surrounded by unstable rocks that look like they'd topple with the slightest touch - and they would, you made sure of that. Over the months you measured yourself against them to find the best one to cover your own skin with.
The chaos above had culminated in a new society that wore the skins of their closest kin, hiding their actual face against their daily atrocities. You knew it would be a bloodied hellscape the moment you left the mines but anything was better than one more second with them.
You couldn't feel the warmth of the sun through his skin - you couldn't remove all the meat properly and, in spite of your best efforts, he was starting to smell. It would probably make you stand out against the other, more experienced murderers but someone might teach you to be better.
You'd find a new group and remain until they drove you to kill just like the last group had...
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