Another Earthquake. God, I hated Earthquakes.
The floor split, boards snapped, doors collapsed, and everywhere were the echoing screams of agony. Those tortured souls who would never escape eternal suffering, relieving their deaths over and over again. Bound to the terrors of Heavenly Host Elementary.
It was enough to drive one to madness. Delirium. Insanity. All of which were quite familiar to me.
After all, I was one with the school. Just like the others. Just like the fate these newcomers were bound to fall to. The thought, if taken in several years ago on the day I'd been simply another toy for our delusional master, would have come to me in a flurry of emotions. I probably would have sought after these strangers, fighting my way to reverse the curse and save their skins as well as my own. But it was, of course, useless. There is no way to rid of this damn hellhole, these damn bloodthirsty wanderers.
There was no such thing as a way out. It'd taken seven years for me to accept that.
"Seiko! Seiko! Come on, Seiko! Wake up!"
And here were the devil's new pets. Two females, it seems, judging by the voice and the name, Seiko.
Seiko? What a lovely name. Much more preferable than Desdemonia. Short. Simple. Sweet. I'm a bit envious.
"Huh? Naomi? …What's up?"
Naomi, the other, Seiko, female says. It's bothersome how nice their titles are. It's the tiniest luxuries that tear into the pitiful core of us trapped souls. Little things like having better names or eating our favorite meals or, I don't know, having an actual human body. Not these excuses of rag dolls we lug around, touching but not feeling, hitting but not hurting (in that sense). We did hurt. Oh, we hurt a lot. But the most unbearable pain we must face throughout these endless years in these empty halls… is want. Desire. We crave human contact. We long for the choice to be reckless and get harmed in the process, because we'd be the ones who brought it upon ourselves. Not some savage seven year old girl. It almost embarrassed me how easily we fell into the clutches of such a tiny figure.
We were sick of dealing the same death. It was, in a sickening sense, boring.
I sighed, shoving my ghostly hands into my pockets, wondering how it would have felt back in the original world. Would I have felt the fabric sliding along my knuckles? Maybe discover a loose pin? I would never know.
"Don't you 'what's up' me! I thought you were dead!"
Pushing aside my wallowing in self-pity, the two girls were continuing on with their conversation, not yet aware of their definite doom. Shame.
With a shrug I decide to heck with it. Some rare entertainment to somewhat distract me from the never ending experience of bleeding to death… I'll take it.
Quietly, quietly, I watch, blending in with the shadows.
"…uh…Where…Where are we?"
Welcome to Heavenly Host where your nightmares become nothing but reality.