Still don't know at what point the story is actually going to end; might be at the end of the Desert, might keep going past that. There's going to be alot of chapters though, so making them short makes it a ton easier to release these consistently. Anyway.
Crystal's POV
The healing salve soothed the pain coming from the cracks. I sighed in relief, as they slowly closed. I honestly don't know how I even feel pain anymore, being completely made of crystal; but the fact that I can even move at all has kind of dissipated any questions that pop up in my head. Wrapping the healing areas in bandages, I leaned back against the log; the revolver that Fish had given me held tightly in my grip.
I didn't really know what to think of him. He's the first mutant or creature I've encountered that didn't want to kill me. Deep down, I wanted somebody to trust, but letting myself do that was a different story entirely. My eyes wandered over to his guitar, leaned up against a dead tree stump. He'd left after giving me the med-kit to continue looking for supplies, saying he'd be back in an hour or two. I asked him why he bothered keeping it; I mean, while I'm actually a music person myself, carrying that thing around everywhere seemed like a lot of unnecessary weight. He said he'd rather not talk about it.
I lied my head down, closing my eyes. I hadn't slept in days; a quick nap couldn't hurt. I was out within minutes.
...
"...Hey, you." My eyes shot open, the voice shocking me awake. A disturbingly mutated face filled my field of view. I did the thing anyone would do in my situation; freak out. I scrambled to my feet, pointing the revolver at the thing's head.
It was actually still very much human looking; or at least, the most humanlike thing I've seen in ages. There was no hair on its head, and it was... melting. At least, that's how it looked. Half of its face was gone, with baggy flaps of skin hanging from its face and other parts of its body. The expression on its face was hard to interpret, but it made no reaction at the weapon pointed at its head. It loosely held a shotgun in its grip. It spoke again, its voice heavily strained and tired. "Look, I just was going to ask if I could have one of those med-kits." It... no, that's a he, I'm almost sure; pointed to the stack of boxes with red crosses on them.
"Oh, um... they're not mine. I'm sure the guy who owns them wouldn't mind sharing them though." I partially said that because it was true, and... partially because a shotgun usually beats a revolver; not that I'm sure he would use it anyway; if something didn't shoot you on sight... well, that doesn't happen. So the fact that he'd actually ask me instead of just taking one was baffling; maybe some of his brain had melted too. I snickered internally, as he nodded and took a seat next to where I had been; I re-took my seat myself.
Opening one of the packs, he took the healing cream and spread it all over his face and chest. The look of pure relief was obvious even on his screwed up face. The two of us sat there for a while in silence, until I finally spoke.
"So..." He glanced in my direction. "What's your name?" He shrugged lazily.
"Don't remember, and don't care enough to try to remember. Hurts to think too hard. Most others I've encountered usually just call me Melting. It fits, I suppose. Let me guess; you're Crystal?" Fish had called me the same thing.
"Irony can be a bitch sometimes; it actually was my name. Seems nuclear waste has a sick sense of humor." He laughed, which turned into a coughing fit. I felt sort of bad for him; it was like looking at someone trapped in time, in their last few seconds of life. Constantly in pain, always tired enough to drop dead. "Where were you when the bombs dropped?" He sighed, the air making a slight whistling sound as it passed through his skeletal teeth.
"Was working at a nuclear waste plant. One of the ones that got hit." My eyes widened. He chuckled bitterly at seeing my expression. "Yeah, you can probably guess how well that went. I'm pretty sure everyone else died. I watched their skin, muscles; even their bones disintegrate with my own two eyes. It started happening to me; but I got knocked into one of the waste vats. Dunno what happened; but I woke up later, like this; all the waste gone." He looked downwards. "Been wandering ever since." He turned back to look at me, a half smirk on his face. "Kind of a heavy question for someone you just met, huh?" I glanced over to the side, tapping my fingers on my chest.
"Uhm… I guess this is one of the first real conversations I've had with anyone in years. Just out of practice." He just shrugged, leaning back on the log.
"Well, you're not pointing a gun at me anymore; that's a good start." I laughed a bit, for real; and it felt good.
Melting is surprisingly enjoyable to write. A sarcastic, tired, bitter person without much to lose; constantly in pain. He's watched the world burn, and honestly doesn't have much more to live for. Sad, but the way things played out in the end.
