If we die in a dream, we wake up in reality. So...if we die in reality...do we wake up in a dream?Slumped into the uncomfortable seat of a rickety town bus, packed to the brim with people she was about to slaughter if they stepped on her feet again, a dark haired girl with ghostly white complexion and eyes crimsoned sat in a dismal, empty gaze out the window at the passing countryside.
Job For a Cowboy blaring through the black and red skullcandies in her ears, the city, dirty and dangerous, had faded from her sight a sparse few moments ago, the cracked, filthy pavement spattered with dry blood, the back alleys littered with trash and sordid deeds, the skyscrapers that played witness to many a gruesome and horrid spectacle, they were all but distant memories now to her, Evelyn Nazareth Thorne.
"The fuck are you looking at, grandma?" She hissed at an old lady giving her a glare that pretty much said
burn in Hell. Merely she ignored the other scrutinizing, condescending glances she received from the bus passenger, pushing past the crowds and shoulder checking a few people carelessly, on her way towards the front and out onto the sidewalk, clutching in her hand her prized guitar,
The Hymn of Thanatos nestled safely in a black hardcase crudely plastered with stickers from every band, from Anthrax to Butcher Babies to Dethklok, slung over her left shoulder a drab, olive green military duffel bag also adorned with several other stickers and patches from metal bands.
She was here, a new city, a new life....well...at least Evelyn hoped it would go that way.