What can I say, August, you inspired me.
The Loop affects most people pretty bad, but…well, given my relative sensitivity to Mr. Thin, it never fails to throw me off. I was in the back of the van (I left the ute somewhere outside of the warzone that is Detroit) when I felt a wave of nausea spread from my chest, until my entire body tingled and ached. I let out an emphatic “Fuck,” and Doc looked at me strangely. “…Nevermind.” I spoke shortly and sharply, not wanting to have my mouth open for too long.
“Stop, I need to take a walk.” I breathed in deeply, not wanting to let that precious lungful go for fear of the coughing starting again, the terrible, debilitating, rib-crushing coughing where I felt every strained hack might be my last.
“We’re here anyway.”
I pushed my way out the back of the van and landed on my knees and palms, retching slightly. Deal with it. “I’ll catch up, eventually.” I (rather intimately, if not for the rising bile) told the ground, as my compatriots skipped over me, their lack of sickness registering as undue sprightliness in my mind. How dare they mock me like this, how fucking dare they, I’ll fucking show them what a cripple like me can do, just as soon as I can stand, I’ll show them that Mr. Thin isn’t the scariest bloke out here…
I blinked, and shook the thought crimes from my mind rather physically. That’s not you talking, mate, that’s Him. You’ll be right, just get up and grab your medicine bag, then we’ll see about being a productive member of the team.
Heaving myself up off the ground was a challenge, but I managed, and reached back into the van, patting around for my satchel, the stabbing sickness replaced by a throbbing malaise…
And then, moments later, I was artificially healed. Strange what a difference a minute can make, hmm?
“Where’s the drop-off?” I asked, expecting an answer, right up until the moment the road twirled and closed in on itself, a Möbius strip of trials and tribulations. Figuratively speaking, the oddities of the loop were not quite that striking, though I was detecting a particularly abnormal curve in the road ahead, which was lumpy and looked as if it was disintegrating into blackness before my eyes.
Though that said, this is Detroit, it looks like that on a good day.
Even as I stared, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and I could tell that others were staring back. From the rooftops, two white faces with blackened, soulless eyes, gazing, observing…Watching.
“We’re not alone, my lovelies.” I murmured to the group, looking away and admiring the ring on my finger with my palm facing outwards. “Don’t suppose someone else would mind dealing with that, hmmm?”