A Dark Collection

A few months had passed by since the fog had settled in. Each one of the days drove Montie further into darkness as the cuts on his arms started moving up from his elbow. It was a growing collection of scars that mark each and every moment that his mind slipped further into the darkness. He stood in the dim, dying light of his overhead lamp, staring into the mirror. He was unable to recognize the man in the mirror. A man standing shirtless covered in scars with sunken eyes, carrying only a mask in his hands.

"Montie!" The voice shook him from the trance he was in.

"Coming mother!" He yelled back putting a shirt over his body before walking out of his room.

"Montie, look at the news." His mom pointed at the T.V. that showed a news helicopter flying over figures marching down a road, barely visible through the fog.

He walked as they pulled people from their houses and shot the ones that fought back. It shocked him to see the events that unfolded on the television. Out of nowhere, a flash of light came from the fog before an explosion caused the helicopter to go into a tailspin as one of the reporters fell out. The screen turned back to two shocked people sitting at a desk as the sound of an explosion marked the end of the helicopter live feed.

"Holy shit." Montie whispered out of shock.

"I would tell you to watch your language, but I agree with you." His mom sounded the soberest and the most coherent she had in a long time.

They watched as they read off a story about how people in Sicily are being pulled from their homes and killed. The military had to retreat out of Sicily giving it up to the invaders before they blew up the bridges cutting the only ways off of the island. Soon the President was on the screen with a solemn look on his face.

"It brings me great pain to say that we have lost Sicily and I know that I abandoned the people there. We are working on getting back into the island's borders. We want to rescue those people and bring them home to us. These families cannot be left separated." He exited the screen after those statements.

A man in a formal military uniform came onto the screen that gave off a sense of arrogance. The teleprompter announced that he was the general of the Italian military. They also said he was there to talk about their failure to hold onto Sicily. When he came onto the screen some of the people in the crowd booed him for several minutes holding him in a silent stare with the camera.

"We apologize for our failures to hold onto the island of Sicily. We will reunite the families that have been separated. For now, stay away from our southern coast. All of the towns in the south are now under martial law and masks are being sent out amongst houses that have been found out to clean the fog. The fog has been found to be holding a deadly virus that can and will kill you quickly. Stay within your houses and if you go out make sure to put on your mask and take filters. When you make it to your destination go within the filtered building and change your filters if the destination is ten or more minutes away. Make sure to stay safe. We hope this will pass soon." As he walked away the crowd began to boo again.

Montie found himself walking out of the room silently in shock. He was trying to sort out what he had just learned on the T.V. It buzzed around his mind like a hive of bees. He felt himself slipping again as he began to run to his room. He collapsed in front of his dresser as he reached for the razor blade he kept there, dropping as he met the floor. He began to panic as it slid behind the dresser and collided with the wall.

"Fuck." He cursed smacking his hand open palm against the floor.

"Come on you need it." A voice said in the back of his mind.

"I know I do." He said not knowing who he was speaking to.

"Throw the dresser out of the way and take it from the darkness." The voice said as it began to echo all around his mind.

"You're right." Montie said as he pulled the dresser away from the wall and grabbed the razor blade.

"Use it!" The voice hissed aggressively.

Slowly he pulled the blade across each biceps, shaking as the stress left his body with the blood. He gasped in a euphoria that came with the pain that he felt. He didn't do what he did to seek death but to seek a form of escape that no one could ever understand as he did. He sat back on his bed letting his blood slowly down his body. The room started to fall apart as he fell back into his own mind. The roof broke away to a hallway that was lined with doors as it stretched into infinity. He walked free from his body down the hallway hearing conversations and noises from behind each door. He walked straight from the only open door in the hallway.

"What are you doing here boy?" Montie watched as a man stepped from behind a nearby dumpster.

Montie found it weird that he was watching his own memory as a third party. It isn't the first time he had done this, but he could never get used to the event when it happens. He watched as the man pulled out a damaged briefcase and opened it. inside was several vials of a brown liquid. it was a liquid he knew all too well about.

"I want just one vial. I am trying to quit." He heard himself say as he saw a bundle of cash come from the bottom of the doorway.

"We all want to quit, but our addictions always come back to us." The man said taking the money.