The sun snapped out of existence, and the daytime cacophony faded into nothing but silence. Stars and darkness crept into the daytime sky, and the clouds disintegrated like flesh rotting into the ground. Maige raised his head in the absolute silence. He stared at the stars. They looked normal. But somehow, from the bottom of his heart, Maige knew - they were evil. They were invaders. They were parasites that blighted the sky.

  The silence was broken by a collective hum. The stars sang and sang as the sky wept blood. Bleeding raindrops fell from the cloudless canopy, dissolving into his flesh, seeping into his eyes. But he could not bring himself to look away, because the stars were beautiful. They were chaotic, yes, but they were shimmering. Maige embraced the rain, which was already making his skin melt. He itched violently at his neck until his nails reached bone - still, he could not look away.

  The stars sang louder and louder. Soon, the general's eardrums shattered, his brain too. But he could not look away, even if he felt his brains seeping out from his nose and ears.

  The stars were too beautiful.

  Under his gaze, a star fell from the singing bunch. It whirled and spun, its voice grew louder. Maige could now see it clearly.

  It was a clump of maggots, each tied and knotting into a ball. It glowed gold and white. The maggots were covered in beautiful mouths, and they were singing an even more beautiful song. They were screaming and screaming like they were enduring the most horrific pain possible.

  Oh, if I could be them...

  Maige thought to himself as he frantically gouged his eyes out at the amazing sight.

  Oh, if I could lie here and listen forever...

  Maige involuntarily thought. His heart was in dread, but his brain wouldn't listen. He felt his heart beat faster and faster in fear... until it popped out of his mouth and hopped away on the fields in hopes of escaping. Maige held out his hands.

  Oh, heart, don't leave me...

  He thought to himself. He looked at his escaping heart with his empty, bleeding eye sockets and yelled for his heart to return. But he had heard the singing, the tempting.

  "I could be your heart..." the maggots sang in harmonic agony. Maige stared at his escaping heart one last time, as if to say farewell. It stared back, raising its bleeding arteries to wave goodbye.

  Maige swallowed the ball of maggots. It crawled into his stomach and laid its eggs, which hatched in a quick breath. Soon, Maige was infested.

  The Maggots had become his heart.

  Maige woke up. Under the same sun, on the same field. Alessandre was no longer here. On the floor was a handwritten slip. "Once you processed everything and talked to 'it', come to the bookstore. Your Alessandre is waiting."

  Maige stood up, legs shaking, and he stayed still for a good while, until servants and medics began to rush in and around him. He temporarily dropped his chaotic thoughts and held up his hand, raising his shaky voice, "No one will search for Alessandre other than me. This is for his and our safety. This includes you, Elysande." He glared into the panicked head maid's eyes, "This is the highest order of command. But I will bring him back safely. Lay your trust in me."

  "Oh, what a demanding voice you used there, dear~," a voice of a woman rang inside Maige's head. But Maige did not panic — he knew this was 'it'. "Do you...have a name?" he asked in his mind.

  "Oh~ a name already? You can name me whatever you like, dear. Anything for you, of course~"

  "Siren. Your name is Siren. Keep silent."

  The crowd slowly backed away, but Elysande turned to Maige, her eyes painfully worried.

  "Maige...I knew this day would come. Go under the library. I believe Severin has left something for the both of you." She lowered her head, wiping a tear off, "Whatever is happening...please stay safe. You and Alessandre. This is my only request."

  "My brother... he knew?" Maige grabbed Elysande's arm, "Has he been on his own ... this whole time?" Maige shivered. "I can't imagine..."

  Elysande only nodded, her shoulders trembling from tears.

  The servants all returned indoors. Maige stood outside, watching the descending sun as afternoon faded into evening.

  "Siren?"

  "Always here, my dearest!"

  "What exactly do you want? What exactly are you?"

  "Dear...I-I don't remember. All I know is that...I was falling, falling from...a really, really loud star. Then, someone put a bandage on my head...and then...I fell into your mouth. And then...and then I just feel this hunger..."

  "Dear...I don't know anything, it's so dark in here...I-I can't feel anything."

  "Feed, feed me...stories..." Siren's voice faded into silence. Maige furrowed his brows. He didn't know what was going on. But he quickly came to the conclusion that the intruder must have known something about it. With that conclusion, the old general quickly hopped onto his horse and sped off along the pebble road.

  ________________________________________________________________________________

  [2021/02/07 12:57 am], Harbourview Docks - The Third Manifest, 12th arrival.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Little brat, got our goods?" the man in pure white yelled from the main deck, leaping lightly onto the docks, "Because we've got exactly what you've been desperate for..." The man let out a wicked chuckle. His shoulders shook as he did so.

  The boy tilted his head up to look at the man on deck, then pulled out a small deck of cards from his pocket, wrapped in wrinkled paper. The deck of cards looked old and worn; the ink was saturated and washed, but the man in pure white was satisfied regardless. He waved his hand around and shrieked loudly, "Black! Black! We got it! We got it, hahaha!"

  The man in pure black appeared from thin air - or rather, he remained where he was, but decided to disclose his existence. His shroud of gloom seemed to cover the cards immediately as his attention was directed to them.

  The man in pure white immediately held out his hands to grab it from the boy's hands. But his arm was met with a sharp 'crunch' and was twisted grotesquely; some tiny bone fragments pierced through his skin.

  "A jester you are. Put more work into etiquette." The boy smiled politely. He stared directly into the stunned man's eyes, which reflected neither pain nor fear, but only the flickering streetlights and the distant advertisement screens.

  "Apologies, Master Thomas Edwin. It is unprofessional on our end. Allow me to retrieve your items from the ship." The man in pure black said, adjusting his pure black gloves. He turned back to assess the ship; the words 'The Third Manifest' could barely be made out from the worn-out paint and the countless dents.

  "Please, come with me. I believe you would like to see it yourself first before we complete the transaction." The man in pure black continued, his leather shoes and cane clicking the docks lightly but firmly with every step.

  Soon, the three made it into the interior of the ship, which was incredibly shabby compared to a modern ship of its magnitude. Old, moist, and almost mossy machinery filled the ship. The floor was disgustingly slippery as well, almost like snot was poured directly onto the floor as some kind of adornment. Thomas wrinkled his nose - he's smelled worse living in the streets, but this ship was on another level.

  The man in pure black stopped abruptly in front of a large, round metal door — sealed shut by numerous hydraulic locks. From all the old, worn machinery on this ship, this metal door seemed the most polished - and new. The man turned around and gestured towards the boy.

  "Here, Master Edwin. Shall I?" He glanced at White's twisted arm, "Though one who crushes White with such ease..."

  Thomas smiled thinly, "I'd appreciate it if you did open it for me. Thank you." A glint of anger and instability flashed in his eyes, "I'd not appreciate you making any comments regarding my abilities."

  "Then it would be my pleasure." Black waved his hand at the locks, which began to churn — almost like a living creature. "Allow me."

  The door opened, and inside lay a delicate ring of flowers. Although withered, it seemed to still flourish with life. Black took out a tiny spray bottle to moisturise the ring. "Be sure to moisturise it once in a while. Preferably, with your own blood. This will keep it thriving."

  Thomas carefully scooped the ring of flowers onto his palms. The petals danced and weaved between his fingers, and the thorns sank into his wrist as the ring of flowers slowly merged with the old watch on his left wrist. Thomas nodded, satisfied. He turned and headed for the door, but a large hand grabbed his shoulder. The nails dug slightly into his flesh, drawing blood. He turned around, his heterochromatic eyes met with two pitch black dots, and Black's chilling smile. Thomas shook the hand off his shoulder before slapping the deck of cards into Black's chest.

  The night air was crisp but wet — as usual. Thomas leaned on a rubbish bin, taking an exhausted deep breath. He looked at the neon-painted alley, the small stalls' sizzling food and the cheap second-hand clothes store just a few meters down. His stomach growled, but he stayed silent. However, he found himself unable to avert his gaze from the sweet smell of stir-fried noodles placed into cartons. He checked his pockets for the ninth time for any amounts of change. But it was always stubbornly empty.

  Thomas stood up, his black almost crooked. He looked at the stalls one last time, licking his lips with his dry tongue before taking a dark staircase next to a dodgy store. The staircase led straight to the roof of the apartment, which was about six floors high.

  The roof of the apartment was Thomas' favourite place to spend time. From here, he could see the central city - the heart of Harbourview. It was an amazing sight: the blinding cityscape adorned with the dazzling 'stars' on the canopy. It was a colourful, dreamy place. Thomas gritted his teeth, and watched the advertisements roll on their screens, hanging from the sides of buildings, or even the canopy. Whether he would admit or not, jealousy was an emotion he'd been feeling for far too long. Longer than he could remember. He felt it whenever he saw the others his age who lived in the central city laugh and smile. He felt a sickening disgust at their innocence, at their cluelessness. He would pity them for not knowing whose corpse they had to step on to live in such a beautiful lie. He would clench his jaw as he continued to work his life away for his sick little sister, every day and night. Then, he would come to the rooftop and momentarily forget about all his problems, watching the city and imagining a future where he didn't give up on university, where he wasn't starving day and night. Where his little sister was healthy.

  Thomas was dazzled by the city lights.

  As much as he hated this meaningless life, the constant struggle against the invisible hand of starvation, as much as he hated the constant fighting for the never-enough resources, as much as he hated this neon abyss that swallowed morals - He loved this city, and he loved this rooftop.

  "How do you like this...city, so far?" Thomas spoke to himself, or rather — the one inhabiting, "It's been a good few weeks since you gained my eyes. I just wanted to know-" A hungry growl of his stomach interrupted his muttering.

  Thomas sighed, biting his lip before continuing again, "I just wanted to know if you think this city is beautiful too, even after all these struggling days." He leaned on the fence, staring up at the nightless city that lit up the skies.

  "I think it's stunning. Just as you do." A voice spoke back, in his head, "But it's suffocatingly so. The question lies — would you let yourself suffocate in beauty, or would you seize the relief of ugliness?"

  "I wouldn't take either." Thomas chuckled to himself, gently massaging a bruise on his back, "But I would definitely take some money and some food right now." He continued mockingly.

  "I envy your ignorance. Even as we share the same eyes, we don't share the same world." The voice chuckled too, "Whatever it is, I want to tell you that, um..." Thomas choked a little. "I really appreciate you...and your company since you arrived." The boy rubbed his reddening eyes, clearly not used to being so vulnerable. He muttered, "Sis would have died without you. Because of that, I... um... I need to thank you."

  The voice went silent.

  "Thank you, so much, Father..." Thomas pushed out his final sentence, face red as a beet.

  "Sure you want that name?"

  "I'm sure. Do not doubt me."

  "Yo, Thomas. Want a bread?" a voice interrupted, and a packet of bread with fillings and a can of soda landed in Thomas' arms. From the door leading up to the rooftop came a thin girl. She had short hair, just past her chin. She was holding a large stack of blood-stained cash. Her black eyes were dull and worn, and there was a determination that only Thomas could see.

  The determination to keep on living. Like a nobody.

  Because what else is more important than life?