As the sun sets in Mofocity, the town slowly recedes into darkness. Most of the town's residence had returned to their homes, closed the curtains and locked their doors. There was nothing to see under the moonless sky.
For others, the day had only just begun. Every night, before going to work, he walked along the pavement as the street lights turned on and off. The censors enable them to sense when somebody was right underneath.
The Edge of the town was his favorite spot. A place where he can quiet the noise, contemplate his life and that small gap that was missing from his memory, a place of total blackness. Right on this spot was where Mofocity had been cut off from the rest of the world 33 years ago. It was the edge of the world.
Burning stars can be seen flickering in the sky and from their dim lights, vaguely he can see the silhouettes of The Floaters, floating still in the sky like hanging shadows of corpses … waiting … waiting to attack or waiting to disappear.
No one in town dared to visit the edges of Mofocity. Not this one, nor the other ones. This place bore myths and legends straight out of horror fictions and nobody wanted to see what's under the moonless sky.
But for Adrian, the dusk was when he started his day, in silence, as he glides into the night, sat quietly by The Edge, staring into the great big nothing. Sometimes he can hear a whistle or a hum, sometimes a crackle like a grinding of the teeth, they all came from the hanging shadows that had always been there since The Day of The Separation - as they call it. The sounds that soothed his ears while he drifted away in his thoughts.
Once he's filled his cup, it was time to go back to the neon lights. He kept his pace while listening to the taps of the soles of his shoes and his steady breathing. Passing by the same windows of shops and diners along the way back to the club where he worked, where he lived.
He tucked his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie, counting backwards 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and watched the street light behind him turned off while the one above him turned on, guiding his way back to life.
About five street lights away from the club, he saw patrol lights of a police car. It was parked right in front of The Dungeon. He stood under the lamp to see what was going on. Chief Colby Jones stepped out of his car and took a quick glance at him before walking into the club. He was alone. At least it's not a raid like dozens of times before. But whenever Chief Colby Jones came with his patrol lights on, things were never 'just fine'.
For others, the day had only just begun. Every night, before going to work, he walked along the pavement as the street lights turned on and off. The censors enable them to sense when somebody was right underneath.
The Edge of the town was his favorite spot. A place where he can quiet the noise, contemplate his life and that small gap that was missing from his memory, a place of total blackness. Right on this spot was where Mofocity had been cut off from the rest of the world 33 years ago. It was the edge of the world.
Burning stars can be seen flickering in the sky and from their dim lights, vaguely he can see the silhouettes of The Floaters, floating still in the sky like hanging shadows of corpses … waiting … waiting to attack or waiting to disappear.
No one in town dared to visit the edges of Mofocity. Not this one, nor the other ones. This place bore myths and legends straight out of horror fictions and nobody wanted to see what's under the moonless sky.
But for Adrian, the dusk was when he started his day, in silence, as he glides into the night, sat quietly by The Edge, staring into the great big nothing. Sometimes he can hear a whistle or a hum, sometimes a crackle like a grinding of the teeth, they all came from the hanging shadows that had always been there since The Day of The Separation - as they call it. The sounds that soothed his ears while he drifted away in his thoughts.
Once he's filled his cup, it was time to go back to the neon lights. He kept his pace while listening to the taps of the soles of his shoes and his steady breathing. Passing by the same windows of shops and diners along the way back to the club where he worked, where he lived.
He tucked his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie, counting backwards 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and watched the street light behind him turned off while the one above him turned on, guiding his way back to life.
About five street lights away from the club, he saw patrol lights of a police car. It was parked right in front of The Dungeon. He stood under the lamp to see what was going on. Chief Colby Jones stepped out of his car and took a quick glance at him before walking into the club. He was alone. At least it's not a raid like dozens of times before. But whenever Chief Colby Jones came with his patrol lights on, things were never 'just fine'.
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