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'IB' - Chapter Two
Dib found himself completely frozen again as the other approached him slowly. It was almost as if time had just stopped completely as each step created more and more anticipation and fear. He could hardly even bat an eye as his gaze was glued on to Zim with no intention of looking anywhere else.
Zim took agonizingly slow steps to him, the laughing dying down to weak 'e' sounds of an eerie laugh. He stopped when he had reached him, eyes turning wild almost instantly. He leaned forward and continued that grin of insanity, looking like he was a wrong breath away from a total meltdown. "I...want to....." The rest turned into garbled nonsense, but he paused, as if he were waiting for an answer now.
Dib didn't seem to catch on to this though as he was too intently focused on the other's horrifying expression, sending shivers down his spine the longer he stared at it. He considered running, but of course his body wouldn't even allow him to move a finger as he stood perfectly still
longdead leafa longdead leaf
burnt brown in the depth of green
cups a handful of fresh water
a leaf left behind
holds something of worth
forgoing death with its dead body
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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