(WChaos Fanfic) The Nature of All Things Prologue

Hello~!! Man it’s been so long since I’ve written anything here eh? Gomenasai!  *bows*

For those who are wondering, WChaos is the Cross(callmeawota) and Neko combi. So anything with WChaos on it means that it’s a collab fic from both of us. If you’re interested in checking out Cross’ work I recommend you to check It’s a network we started and has some great writers and artists there.

This was written by Cross.

Well then, on with the show!


Drip. Push. Pull. Slam!

What was once a rowdy land of losers, ones who fell short of life expectancy with a jail sentence, was now filled with silence, though set aside the chirping of birds louder than ever heard before since the prisoners ends. The leaky ceilings of the building were beginning to show their insidious destruction. The liquid that hit the floor splashed in every direction, though small.
What’s so better than the sounds of footsteps in the halls in a peaceful morning such as this? Locked limbs and muted mouths were the next best thing. In a content whisper, the man in the lead conveyed, “Already compliant to their futures, I see.”
Chuckles echoed along the hall, with dragging feet and assisting men, one after another, pushed into an empty room of darkness. It was taunting— the darkness. With secret whispers along the walls of ‘No Escape’, it was another funeral— a darker one. Only, they felt it was harder to cope. Yet they see, the room is better than a damp jail cell under the prison. So during their clueless stay, it was silent and eerie, dark and damp, cold, and lacking all of light and hope. Oh, such irony.
Trailing from behind, lighter, quieter steps, sure to keep secrecy but unable to escape the ears of one girl. Miyu’s eyes twitched to look back, resisting the temptation to look back, and risked the harassment of a guard. However, she failed to resist her curiosity and temptation. A hard smack hit her, pushing her out of line, only to be beat again for being out of line.
Then as the last one to enter the last cell, she looked as back as much as she could— far as she could— so that she could see the heads of those once like her. They were hard-headed, stern, cold, and heartless— sealed from all emotion. Her eyes trailed down to the insignia on their chests, baring one that, of all her years as a cleaner, she feared most of all.
The Elites were here.

~ by sleepingneko on March 10, 2014.

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