IV: Cult Fiction (V for Vendetta mask)

At this very moment, life began to stand still. Time didn't exist. The universe seemed to disappear

It was just The Boy...

BOY: R O S C O E’ S W E T S U I T

Panic began to grow in the pit of The Boy’s stomach

BOY: R O S C O E’ S W E T S U I T

That obsession with Roscoe’s Wetsuit had slowly grown into a beast that he couldn't handle

BOY: (Angry) R O S C O E’ S W E T S U I T

He gasped for breath but, couldn't feel anything

*Silence*

Dude 2 can be heard faintly. Just think about one of those scenes where there’s an explosion and the main hero is slowly regaining consciousness. Like… A soft piano to a grand fortissimo

DUDE 2:
(Gasping) He… Help…

Blood was splattered on The Boy. Dude 2 was on the floor looking at The Boy emptily. He seemed to have multiple bullet wounds, gasping and hanging on to whatever amount of life he had left

What happened in that moment of anxiety?

Who “saved” him?

Who wanted his pointless existence to continue?

The Boy got up and looked for his wallet. It was under the couch he was sitting on. There were no bullet holes in it, but it did have blood on it from Dude 2

BOY:
(Disgruntled) Fuck

The Boy walked towards the kitchen only to find Dude 1 on the floor. He searched him to find his phone. It had cracks on it due to Dude 1’s
Body weight collapsing onto it. Dude 1 wasn't breathing

BOY:
(Emotionless sigh)

His phone vibrated in his hand and the screen flashed. The number was private

The message read…

*Silence*

**ROSCOE’S WETSUIT**