Part 1: Denial - Episode 7

 A light whistle shot quickly through the forest, the purple leaves rustling slightly in the loose, light breeze. The air had a small hint of biting cold as William glided a magenta cloth over the small windows. Elias sat inside, his head in his hands – yet not in a form of disappointment or sadness; his time in The City District had enabled him to be extremely aware of what his surroundings – what people around him thought, then being dumped in a forest, expected to just… move on. He thought, his cherry lips pressed together in a tight line.

I just have a feeling, Elias thought inaudibly to himself. A small beat ran through his head, it was a tune, one he commonly listened to before he ran from home. To the woods. Ran, he thought. He could not stop the music, but it simply always echoed through his mind, every so often switching songs. 

A quiet thump came from his right, as Elias looked to the window, a cloth, soapy water spilling out of it and running down the glass, pooling on the ageing wooden windowsill. Ah, William was cleaning the windows. Elias let out a small squeak as he got out to help William, though predicting William would deny the assistance, loneliness crept up on Elias, he scoffed. Ridiculous.
Opening the door caused William to come to a stop, his chilling glare turning to Elias. “Need help?” Elias queried with his jovial tone, to which William groaned slightly; turning his head. Elias laughed light-heartedly, running his fingers through his fluffy hair, watching William.

It had been at least five minutes – maybe more. Elias idly sat on the concrete steps outside the cabin, leaning against the wooden door slightly, an absent expression rested on his face. As the chilly atmosphere seemed to finally settle, without warning, a scream – a scream like feedback from a microphone tore through the forest. William dropped the cloth, unintentionally kicking the blue, plastic bucket over as he jumped away in concern. Elias immediately shot up in a discombobulated mix of terror and surprise; standing but a few metres behind William. The soapy water sunk into the ground, a plethora of delicate bubbles rested on top, a brilliant array of shining colours on top of the bubbles. The scream neared, echoing harshly through Elias’ head as he reached for the brass doorknob. Moments after he’d opened the door, William ran hastily through, dragging Elias with him – the slam of the door awoke Elias – made him aware of the situation, as he sat on the ground, left to think about the events that had just occurred mere moments prior to his complex thoughts.
“What was that?”
“Thy Bad Habits,” William said coldly, yet the coldness of his tone was unusual. Less condescending, standing more with an acute tone of fear and regard for Elias’ question, not a disinterested answer as Elias expected. Lloyd stepped into the tall doorway of the kitchen silently. As he opened his mouth to speak, Thy Bad Habits came closer.

The sunlight from the freshly cleaned windows was completely blocked by its muscled, large figure, leaving the three in darkness, as the buzzing white creature passed slowly. It’s mic-scream louder than ever. William caught a glance of its eye, a void black instead of a pupil. Its eye… just black. Elias sat, his heart pounding in his ears while he was sitting on the wooden floor. Thy Bad Habits was gone. A deafening ring lingered in Elias’ ears. The light returned to the room. The golden orbs of light shuffled and stirred. Elias’ eyes darted to William as he climbed off the ground to reach for the door, Elias grabbed his shirt and threw him to the ground.

“Again?!” Elias screamed with anger flowing through his veins. “Get a grip!” He continued. Taken aback by Elias’ sudden outburst, Lloyd fully entered the room, his face remained still as Elias started again, “Don’t fucking run after that thing!” He cried. Lloyd had experienced yelling. At this point, nothing could make him flinch. He remembered that night, in the city. “Calm yourselves,” Lloyd began, his voice annoyed as he came closer to Elias, gently pulling him away from William, who rose slowly, straightening his shirt and belt. “What was that?” Lloyd queried, being ignored. “I’ve only heard that once before,” Lloyd breathed.

“Thy Bad Habits,” William murmured. 

Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. Habits. 

Thy Bad Habits.

. . . 

Lloyd stood idly in the alleyway. The frigid stone bricks of the towering wall were stained with a dried, dark red substance. A cigarette half hung out of Lloyd’s mouth as he fiddled with his earring. A bright green lock of dyed hair was haphazardly tied back along with the rest of his shining blond hair. A figure, tall, muscular and intimidating stood in front of him. “You did it?” the figure breathed under their breath.

“I did it.” Lloyd replied quietly, “He’s dead.”

. . .

Lloyd stood, once again, all those years later, the memories flashing before his oddly coloured eyes.

“He’s dead,” Lloyd muttered.