A dull scrape echoed around the bleak and lifeless city. A few seconds later, the same sound again, louder this time. A few more seconds, and again, coming closer. The scrape turned to a screech, a twisted shriek of metal on metal. It brought images of tearing, breaking, iron fangs ripping through pavement and metal and flesh. A bright light, a blaring noise, and the skidding of tires.
The drip-drip-drip of gasoline, the cars slide to a stop, and the night is silent again.
"No one survived," a voice says to your left. You blink, feeling light, and open your eyes. You're in a white room. A man is leaning against the wall, staring at you. His boyishly handsome face is framed by, oddly enough, pink hair, and his eyes are a deep blue. You blink, and the words sink in.
"I'm sorry?" You say, asking for clarification. His face doesn't change.
"You remember the accident? You and your friend. A man swerved into your lane, and you slammed into each other while going 67 miles an hour. All three of you died."You stare. His nonchalance is alarming. Doubt rises in your chest, and you open your mouth, but he cuts you off.
"I know it's hard to swallow. It was hard for me, too," he says. Something in his voice makes you not believe him.
"But you died in the middle of Interstate 41.""Where's Haley?" are the first words that come out of your mouth. You say it in a rush, as if the answer to this question will make you feel that much better. He stares at you for a moment before replying.
"She's here, too," he says.
"The crash killed you, but your hearts are strong. You've been given a second chance. Will you take it?"You stare at him. It's too much too fast, and it's all so unbelievable that you want to stand up and scream at him, hit him, cry into your hands, run away and never look back. But you do none of these things. Instead, you sit up slowly, measuring the condition of your body.
"What am I?" you say eventually. You can't be human, you realize.
He smirks, the first expression you see on his face.
"You're like me. A Nobody." He puts a hand to his chest.
"I am Marluxia. What is your name?""Kaia." "Not anymore." He raises his hand and waves it in front of you. Your name floats there, suspended in midair, crafted out of light. The letters scramble and rotate, hurting your eyes as you watch. And suddenly, a large X appears at the front of the set of letters. They stop moving. A name floats, harmless, undeniably important.
"Xaika. Welcome."Credits:Profile and coding by
STARKProfile art by
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Darkmatter Montre
