Writingggg! (Reallllyyy long)

Story Idea

Murder at a café (not the major plot)

Dystopian

Characters

Nyx: 27, hotheaded, unemployed, Ace, prefers to bike or walk over driving, used to live with their roommate and romantic partner until “Hellrise”. Religious beliefs: Hellenist. Short, messy, jet-black hair,

Esmeralda: 53, hid away in the sewers during “Hellrise” Believes she is humanity’s only hope, destined to take over her country with the aid of her growing robotics army. She knows the cure to cancer and has vowed to end war and famine, and to rule with a gentle hand.

Azrael: 25, gentle, unemployed, Demi, lives in a perpetual state of derealization and age regression (coping techniques used to help deal with trauma), roommate and romantic partner to Nyx

Vix (Vixen): Nature Primordial, fox anthro, kind, sees everyone as her child, non-binary being, embodiment of birth and life and nature

Ereshkigal: The embodiment of death, takes a vaguely humanoid form, digitigrade legs, Bird skull mask, raven feather cloak, contrary to popular belief, they are kind, gentle to those who’s soul they reap

Events

Hellrise: The day the earth split open and hellish creatures invaded and wiped out most of humanity

Time frame: year 2056

Plot

Nyx finds himself alone again. Only this time, it wasn’t his fault. Not entirely. The earth split open, swallowing most of East Linebourne, a small city on the outskirts of Minnesota. Beings of terror and destruction seeped into his world, sowing seeds of chaos and death throughout the Northern continents. Nearly a year has passed since that fateful day. East Linebourne looked so different. The once towering skyscrapers had toppled, scorched by skrills, beings that looked somewhat like dragons. They were small, with scaled bodies and a head shaped like a deer’s, with four eyes and a long, snaking tongue. Their jaws split in two, spewing lava and green flames at will. During the evacuation efforts, Nyx and Azrael were separated, and both, while holding onto the brittle hope that they’re wrong, presume the other to be dead. After nearly dying in an encounter with a soul reaper, he retreats to the sewers, his body on the edge, and he passes out. When he comes to, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. It’s cleaner, warmer, and smells better. He meets Esmeralda, who had found him near death, and brought him back. Ez teaches him her ‘magic’ (herbology, medicine, herbalism, and robotics). Once Nyx heals fully, he returns to the surface with Ez to look for Azrael and fix the world. They find themselves at an abandoned café, searching for food and shelter. While scouring the abandoned building, they’re jumped, and Nyx ends up taking someone’s life to protect himself and Ez.

(Play script ends after the murder. Ends on a cliff hanger, where Azrael walks in, dishevelled but alive, horror-struck at the bloody scene before them)

Script Writing: Free Write

Nyx is tired. He hasn’t eaten much, hasn’t slept. He can’t sleep. Sleep means dreaming. Dreaming of them, of that day, of what could have happened to Azrael.

It had been almost a year since he’d seen them, heard their voice, felt their body close to his. He’d never admit it out loud, but he missed his Rae. He’d never gone this long without them.

Esmeralda puts a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. Despair and chaos swirled like the smoke and ash in the air. What had this city come to?

“Where’s your mind, dear?” Esmeralda’s voice is soft, grounding.

Nyx looks over to her, his gaze hardening. “It’s dangerous out here,” he gestures to the burning city. “Are you sure you want to come?” His voice was softer than intended, his eyes filled with genuine concern. He was worried for her, terrified of losing someone else.

Esmeralda nods, her gaze fierce. She was tough. Tougher than most men he knew. But she also hadn’t seen the surface in nearly a year. Was she truly ready for the danger that was laid out before them?

Nyx shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the agonizing thoughts that plagued his mind. What if he couldn’t protect her? What if he failed to keep her safe and alive, just as he’d failed Azrael? He turns back towards the city, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart and mind.

“If you’re sure, then we must keep moving. We’re sitting ducks while out in the open.”

They walk the deserted streets, Nyx taking the lead. He’s wary, his movements slow and careful. After nearly two hours, Nyx finally stops. He turns to Esmeralda, his voice low.

“There’s a café up ahead. It looks like it may be a safe space to rest. You should stay here while I scout it out, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“No.” she said sharply, shaking her head. “We go together. I may be old, but I’m not helpless dear.” She hobbles forward into the street, looking up at the café. Mo-Mo’s Boba and Bakery. She looks back at Nyx, waving her hand. “Come now, dear. Maybe they’ll still have some food we can salvage.”

Nyx sighs, his chest twisting with worry he refuses to acknowledge. He follows Ez into the café, his senses heightened.

The interior of the café is surprisingly clean, with tables set and trinkets on the wall. It looks untouched by the devastation outside. Behind the counter, there were cups and napkins and utensils.

While Esmeralda admired the décor, Nyx stalked into the kitchen. He didn’t trust this place, not one bit. This place was too clean. Something wasn’t right.

The kitchen was fully stocked, cakes and muffins and bottles of boba pearls piled on high shelves. Most of them were fresh, like they had just been pulled from a freezer.

Nyx felt a sudden sense of unease. They weren’t supposed to be here. They were in danger. He turns on his heels, bolting out of the kitchen. He jumps over the counter, grabbing onto Esmeralda’s sleeve and spinning in front of her.

“Ez, we need to go,” his eyes are desperate, his words breathy and panicked. “It isn’t safe here.”

Esmeralda looks down at him; concern etched into her weathered features. “Nyx? What’s going on?”

“We’re in danger! There’s someone else here! We have to-”

Nyx is cut off by the sound of metal scraping against metal. In one swift motion, Nyx moves Esmeralda behind him, unsheathing the karambit he kept concealed at his hip. His gaze locks onto the kitchen his body tense, ready for an attack.

“The runt is right, missy,” A low, raspy voice slithers out from the kitchen. Out of the dark steps a hunched figure. His eyes are crazed, his teeth bared in a demented smile. His face was twisted into something sinister as he stalked closer.

“You are in danger!” A grating sound leaves their lips. Was he… laughing? Nyx didn’t have time to think about it. The man lurched forward, knife held high above his head. Nyx deflects the blow with this own blade, kicking the man hard in the stomach, sending him flying backward.

“Ez! Run!” Nyx shouts, his voice high and terrified. He didn’t dare turn his back to that man. He knew better than to leave himself vulnerable to people touched by the Demon’s Tongue, a root-like plant that released spores into the air. When breathed in, these spores infected the brain, causing the creature to develop an insatiable hunger for flesh. This place had been set as a trap.

The man lunges forward again, his movements sporadic and jerky. He was fast, inhumanly so, and his attacks were random and harsh. He caught Nyx in the side, the blade digging deep into his flesh.

Nyx screams, feeling the warmth of his own blood soaking into his clothes. He swings down, his own blade grazing the man’s shoulder. He spins around, clutching his karambit in a defensive position.

The man lunges again, a guttural cry reverberates off the walls as he swings the knife down.

At the same instant, Nyx swings his blade in a deep arcing motion, feeling the sudden impact and resistance as his blade catches flesh. He cries out as the mans knife plunges into his shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle. He feels the warm splatter of blood on his face, and his breath catches.

The man staggers back, choking and sputtering, his hand flying to his throat. Blood seeps from between his fingers, the crimson liquid glimmering in the dim light like some devastating art piece. He drops to his knees, his chest heaving, lungs begging for breath that won’t come.

Nyx stands there frozen, the knife falling from his hand. He stats to shake, his vision tunnelling. “No…” The word comes out in as a breath, the sound broken. He takes a step back, his gaze locked on the gory sight in front of him.

The man falls forward, rolling onto his back. He chokes, the horrible sound filling the small space.

Nyx is frozen in place, unable to look away. He watches as the light leaves the man’s eyes, watches as he stops fighting for breath. He stands there, covered in blood, watching the very life essence spill from the man’s torn throat. He feels a sudden sense of numbness spread through him, his eyes glazing over.

Esmeralda comes out from her hiding spot, her face pale. “Nyx…” Her voice is quiet, her hand trembling as she reaches for him.

Nyx feels Esmeralda’s hand, but doesn’t truly register it. He can’t take his eyes off of the man laying before him. He had just taken a life. He steps forward, his movements mechanical, like he was on autopilot. He kneels beside the body, closing the mans eyes gently. He leans down, resting his forehead against the man’s, whispering a small prayer to the gods, praying for his soul to travel swiftly to the heavens and be at peace.

“Ἑρμῆ, ἵνα ἦς ἥπιος ὡς ἄγεις τὴν ἐν ταῖς ἀχθίαις ψυχὴν εἰς τὸν ὑποχθόνιον κόσμον. Ἐᾷ ἡ ψυχὴ αὐτοῦ ἀναπαύεται ἐν εἰρήνῃ νῦν.”

(Hermes, that thou mayest be gentle as thou hast led the soul in the depths into the underworld. If his soul rests in peace now.)

A moment of silence unfolds, neither Nyx nor Esmeralda daring to break the sacred moment of one soul acknowledging another. After several long moments of deep silence, Nyx stands, his heart heavy. He turns to Esmeralda, his eyes filled with guilt. His body sags as if carrying a heavy weight, his heart and mind now carrying the burden of grief and guilt that comes with taking a life.

“Oh, Nyx…” Esmeralda reaches out, her eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. “You did what you had to…”

Nyx looks up at her, shaking his head. There were no words that could console him. Instead, he lets her wrap him in her comforting embrace, her arms a sturdy rock amidst the storm in his heart. After a long moment, he pulls back, looking back at the body.

“We should… we should give him a proper burial. He deserves one.” He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his shaky voice. “The violence wasn’t his fault.”

Before he can finish his thought, bells chime cheerily through the café. The front door opens, sunlight filling the room. Nyx looks up, his whole body going rigid.

A figure stands in the doorway. They were small, their body thinned from weeks of living off rations and the occasional wild game. There was something childlike about them. Something familiar and comforting. She tilts her head, taking a step forward.

“Nyx…?”