TITLE: The Faithful
GENRE: Science Fiction
As Raine opened his eyes, he could feel it creeping in.
Dodging to the left, Raine pushed off the table, ignoring the shattering glass to his left. A shout rang out from his right. He spun on his heels, slipping on the freshly spilled whiskey, narrowly avoiding a hard blow to his jaw. The breeze nicked at his skin, setting the nerves afire. Planting his foot, Raine came to a full stop and prepared for the next blow.
The curved lamps along the walls spilled golden light along the hunter green paint. The scent of stale smoke hung in the air, coating everything like the taste of a lover’s lips long after they’re gone. Somewhere off in the distance, laughter and conversation had once filled the building but had fallen away in light of the fight. Now hushed whispers flooded the air, silently dictating the brawl - issuing forth condemnations for their actions while envying their lack of inhibition.
Covered in darkness, Turrell raised himself from the floor. His face appeared for a mere second, wincing visibly from pain. His hair covered his forehead in a messy tangle of light brown. A single ray of light ran along his face as he moved past it. His suit, stained with liquor and newly shattered glass, shed the shards as he rose to his feet. Droplets of blood formed on his palms. He clenched his fists, causing the blood to rush from the wounds all the quicker.