Tales of the void

 [warning for gore, body horror and horror mention]

 Clara somewhat disliked going into the city train

That did not mean she did not like it sometimes, the lady right next to her left with the terribly heavy furnace stuck on her back alongside the coal wimps helped her distract herself from the seemingly dead gentleman, who would look like he was simply passed out if not due to the large red stain in his suit, clara was not someone to cause a mess out of what the common folk that frequented the station considered normal, so she kept her mouth shut, held tight onto her mask, listened to the radios chattering about the recovery of the ruined zones and holded on until she reached her apartment

That was going to be a busy day


____________

Clara slammed her apartment door open to the smell of old paint, rotten trash from the kitchen and her yellow jacket, which had gotten stained with the man's blood on the train, which she quickly threw in the back of her closet, clara quickly got into the mirror to see if she had any stains on herself

Clara  was quite a thin young lady, with arms and legs as thin as sticks, she looked over her white and black pattern shirt. Which thankfully was untouched of any messes, her baggy shorts?, clean as a hotel floor, her mask?, as she analysed the poorly drawed on face she had put on it (that was two cat like eyes big as Golf balls and three sticks above them for eyebrows) she found just some scratches on the edges, nothing anyone out in the streets would notice anyway,

"Thats.." she looked over her hair, smacking her lips mindlessly "good!..No stains.." she said to herself as she analyzed her curly black hair, tips as spirarelled as the  water vortex in the fountain  around the park, she sighed, everything was fine, no dead body juice had creeped its way in her body, although she had already dismissed most of the things mother told her about the dead back on the hospital as simply things to make her stay quiet or obey she still shivered at the tales of necrosis slettling in on perfectly healthy limbs, fault of one single drop of decayed blood, worms being taken out of abandoned  pets from the ruins and more which she wished to stop thinking about and forget

She looked over the radio, still  with its battery pack left out in the dresser