As the woman sat reflecting in the burned out classroom, she could feel the tears that she had believed were long gone come back to fill her eyes. How could people have been so cruel! Looking back now, their paranoia was understandable, but what if those surviving in the sealed building could have provided some sort of remedy for the chemical poison contained in those vials? Yes, that’s right, a remedy was needed. There was more than just Origin. It was simply the first. After the school building, she had later come to find out that similar simultaneous and consecutive attacks were made around the world. The chemical agent in those vials was the deadliest and most destructive organic compound the world had ever seen. Completely unknown before the attacks, it was later dubbed Libitina, meaning “Goddess of Death.”
The woman got up from where she had been sitting and turned to her skeletal companion, picked up his hand and shook it, bidding him adieu. She went into the hallway again, and turned toward the lecture hall where it had all began, the Death Room, Origin. Taking a deep breath she managed to move several steps closer before an almost overwhelming desire to turn and run away filled her being. She shut her eyes tightly and grimaced. She was going to do this. She was still unsure as to why she needed this, but she did. She needed to return to Origin. She forced herself a few more feet down the hall. Halfway there. But before she could take another step, a shadow flickered in front of her. She shook her head to clear her vision. A spirit? Another shadow flickered by. Yes, definitely spirits. She forced back her tears, for their sake. They didn’t need her sorrow.
She was standing in the middle of the hall. Closing her eyes, she slowly sank to the floor, sitting crossed legged with her head bowed. She could sense the souls forming a ring around her. She stayed still and silent. Slowly, then, she looked up. The shadows had formed into something more substantial. They had taken on the shape of the people they once had been. Their faces… their faces looked so sad – so old and tired. She wished she could help them, and the pain on her face must have shown. Maybe they remembered her from before, recognized that she had been there with them, or maybe they just knew she was one of them. By some freak chance she had survived, and now had returned. They knew that she was not here for them, and yet, they acted as if she belonged with them and they expected something from her. The spirit directly in front of her kneeled down, and slowly reached a hand out to touch hers. She extended her own hand and their fingers interlocked, the soul’s image being much more substantial than she had anticipated. The woman looked up and met his eyes. “I’m not ready to die,” she whispered quietly. It seemed a small smiled quirked the corners of his mouth as he nodded his head, then stood up again. The spirits quickly morphed back to shadows and silently faded away. If she were to die, this was where she would come. The souls trapped here knew that, and now, so did she.
The woman stayed seated on the floor. I must remember more…
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