"Uh oh."
If Riley thought the breeze from the window had been strong, then the violent wind now slamming against his face as he plumted from the sky was a storm.
Falling from 1,500 feet, most people would’ve been screaming. Panicking. But Riley felt only a strange, serene calm. Perhaps even... relief?
Perhaps this was the universe’s way of telling him that he had enough fun. Now, it was ti for...
Peace.
His only passing thought was that Hannah and his adoptive parents might think he had committed suicide.
And maybe that wouldn’t be so far from the truth. He could die right now, and maybe the world would be better for it. No.
The world would be a better place.
He was young—but not naive. He was fully aware of what he was becoming. Or rather, what he was losing.
Humanity. He was losing whatever humanity was even in him in the first place.
And even now, as the wind howled past his ears and his reflection flickered in the windows speeding by, he rembered.
Alice. His biological mother.
He didn’t know why he rembered it so vividly—the mont she tried to kill him. The way her hands crushed down around his throat, the way his fragile bones cracked. The mont before he passed out, seeing her eyes filled with terror. Not fear of losing him. Fear of him.
She called him a monster.
And maybe she was right. Maybe she had killed him that day—and whatever rose from that tiny, snowy baby boy... was sothing else. Him.
But before that, there had been warmth. Alice cradling him. Smiling. Refusing to let anyone else touch him unless she fully trusted and knew them.
She loved him, until she didn’t. Until she saw sothing no one else did.
Now, the ground rushed up to et him, hard... cold.
Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe Hannah would be better off without .
But not like this.
You said you hated , Sister. I know you didn’t an it. But I don’t want you to think I committed suicide because of you. I don’t want you to be sad. Never. Not like this, Sister.
He stared at the hard pavent again, before the scream of the wind dulled in his ears as he exhaled, drowning every other noise but himself.
He extended his arms outward, feet together, eyes closed. He tried to lift himself—he stretched a telekinetic arm from within him. To float.
But it wasn’t working.
Of course not. His own physical limbs wouldn’t be able to lift him, so why would a telekinetic arm coming from within him be any different?
He was doing it wrong.
Cars, planes, elevators—they could carry him because they were separate from him. External.
The buildings, the mountains—the Earth holds them.
And the Earth is held by the universe.
Then shouldn’t the universe carry too?
Arms, hands—these are rules. Forms. Limits.
I don’t need rules. I don’t need form. What I need is... to be nothing.
Riley opened his eyes.
The windows beside him vibrated violently. The air between them shimred, warped, and then—it beca silent, and everything beca still.
All that remained was him, floating in the air, as if the very fabric of the universe had caught him in its palm.
He stared at his reflection in the glass—a faint outline of a face, stark and pale against the black of his hoodie. Because he was dressed in all black, his face was all he could really see; his impossibly white skin, like a ghost floating in the night.
Behind him, the city was inverted—buildings towering below him, and the sky stretched out beneath his feet.
The scenery was beautiful, surreal.
But Riley ignored it. He wasn’t here for beauty. He focused on what lay beyond it—fun.
Stephanie, I do hope you received my letter.
He inhaled deeply, letting the universe reorient him. Slowly, he spun in the air until his feet pointed toward the Earth.
He could have let the universe carry him through the sky again. He wanted to.
But he chose not to.
Because the skies were dangerous—for up there... was Her.
The boom in the clouds.
gawoman.
Riley stared at the sky as his feet finally touched the ground, and with a sigh... he decided to walk and commute instead. The location he wrote in the letter wasn’t that far off anyway.
***
9:00 PM. Renwick Smallpox Hospital. Roosevelt Island. I am two hours early... but it stands to reason they should be, too.
Riley now stood pressed against the crumbling wall of an abandoned building, almost invisible beneath the cover of night.
This place wasn’t exactly deserted—people still passed through the island at night—but no one ventured near the ruins. No one but thrill-seekers. Or those with darker intentions... like him.
Renwick Smallpox Hospital.
Once, it had been a place of hope. A line of defense against sothing no hero could stop. Sickness.
Even gawoman, who’d stopped wars, torn asteroids from the sky, couldn’t prevent what happened here.
And so the world let it rot.
No ceiling. No doors. Barely walls. The very stone seed diseased, and even the rats avoided it. Or...
Are they avoiding ?
Riley exhaled. The dust that had more than likely been there for years scattered from the wall beneath his breath. And then, without sound, he rose into the air, drifting upward like a shadow.
From a distance, he might have looked like a cockroach scaling the side of a tomb.
He stopped at the very top, on the last surviving stretch of roof clinging to the wall. Well, if it could be called a roof at all—he was only standing on a large piece of stone, a brick.
Still, he stood there calmly; his white face glowed faintly in the dark, reflecting the distant city lights. But he wasn’t interested in lights.
He was here for darkness.
The Renwick Ruin, in all its glory. No ceiling. No doors. Not even the plants co near. A place built for dying... now long forgotten.
He looked down at the untad dirt beneath the walls.
Do you feel it too, Mr. Hospital? That hunger in your bones? That thirst for misery? For death? Do you miss them?
Don’t worry. Tonight... you’ll drink your fill.
He scanned the grounds one last ti.
Surveillance? None. Visitors? Far. It would seem it’s only you and , Mr. Hospital. And tonight... you are mine.
And so he waited.
A second.
A minute.
An hour.
Two.
Until finally, a quiet voice broke through the stillness.
Right on ti. Not early, like he’d expected. Not clever enough to scout ahead.
But on ti.
I suppose even a useless woman like you has a redeeming quality. I will make sure to rember that, Stephanie. I will make sure to rember that when you are long gone in this universe.
She crept into the ruins cautiously, holding the letter he had left for her like it might burn her fingers. She stepped past the barricade the city put up probably five decades ago, and wandered deeper inside.
Unaware that she was already standing in Riley’s shadow.
"H-hello?" She whispered loudly, and from the darkness, Riley replied—
"Hello, Stephanie."
Reviews
All reviews (0)