A warm hand brushes against my forehead, a tongue clucks at the too warm temperature. My hair is smoothed from my clammy skin, a gentle pressure tucks my blankets around me. The blanket was a quilt I had crafted, I remember the beady eyes of Hulk staring at me, threatening to “Hulk Smash”, why that angry green face has stayed with me, is something I have never understood.
Debris flies clouding the air, pelting back to the earth. Screams echo, more broken and hollow then any human has the right to sound. He clutched at his arm, his hand tacky with his own blood, it seeping out with each beat of his erratic heart. His comrade, his brother in arms lays beside staring up at him, eyes glazed over, there isn’t a single scratch on his face, his torso ends at the edge of his ribcage, and the vermin gnaw on his exposed flesh.
Joined at the Authorship 