Fog settled snugly over the town, swirling lazily around light poles and through the leaves of trees. It stretched out for infinity, blocking out the sky and muffling his footsteps. He shivered, his hair dripping and his clothes sticking awkwardly to his skin. The humidity was uncomfortably palpable as he shuffled aimlessly through the wreckage of broken down cars and weeds who diligently worked themselves into the sidewalk cracks. All around him was an expanse of grey, and he could make out chimneys and unkempt front lawns but only just.
He was lost.
How he managed to find himself here, he didn’t even know. He didn’t remember arriving in the town, much less walking to the middle of it.
Although he knew it wouldn’t help, he pulled his cardigan closed and rubbed tanned hands together. Wide eyes took in all they could through the fog, through the deafening silence. After what seemed like an hour of wanton walking, he stopped at what looked like used to be a bazaar, before whatever had happened to the place. Restaurants lined the square, and he could discern a few words from the signs on the buildings. It seemed normal, relatively, but he didn’t feel secure yet. Something was off.
And then he realized. He thought it was his head messing with him, but it wasn’t. There was a faint booming in the air, coming from one of the joints along the path. He paused.
With little resolve, he drifted towards the noise, his breath bated. It was loud enough for him to feel the vibrations with his feet by now, an incessant beat that pounded into his head. He froze in front of the building in question, a run down Taco Bell that struck him as a place that wasn’t maintained even when it was in business. From the looks of it, he would be able to squeeze his body into the building through the smashed door window, but barely. He hesitated.
He stepped gingerly through the doorway, littered with glass. Luckily, his lithe body allowed him through without being cut, and he released the breath he’d been holding for who knows how long.
Looking around the room before him, he picked his way past little bits of glass, vibrating from the volume of the music. God forbid he tripped and fell. He shuddered at the thought.
The commotion seemed to be coming from under his feet, and looking around, he could spot a questionable stairwell. The wood at the base was rotting, and the whole thing looked unstable. A calculating step followed by another, and he decided it was safe enough to pass.
The pounding grew ever louder as he reached the bottom, his head starting to ache horribly. Hissing, he rubbed his temples, wincing from the sudden pain. He glanced up to see a door, one you would expect to see in a Taco Bell. There were grease stains splotched over it, and it was chipping and rusting at the bottom. As soon as he saw it, his headache, along with the volume of the music, tripled. He doubled over, choking out a sob. He didn’t know why, but he had to open the door. Crawling over painfully slowly, he grabbed the doorknob and suddenly he was being shaken awake and looking into the tired eyes of an older woman.
“Hey, bud, we’re closing.” Her nametag read Abby. There was a dirty rag in her hand, and she paused, her eyebrows furrowed.
“...Oh, and your friends kinda left you here too.” She scratched the back of her neck, seemingly uncomfortable to break the news to the young man in front of her.
Through the throbbing clouding his head, he lowered his eyes to a half empty
glass in his hand, and behind it several more. In the background, obnoxious pop music boomed incessantly.
He dropped his head back down on the counter.
Oddly enough, he was craving Taco Bell.