This blog is temporarily going on hiatus due to an overwhelmed writer.

It was the night before the great migration and many people were getting packed and ready for an early train out of the desert base - TeuFort. Amid the hustle and bustle of people saying their last goodbyes, it would be easy to forget the newcomers to the base. 

It wasn’t necessarily unusual for Ern to be absent from the base’s social scene. He was relatively unknown to many of his teammates, he was awkward, and he was shy - but he had still managed to make a couple of friends here. They might notice the uncharacteristically full sink of dishes, or the unmopped kitchen floor.

They might even notice that his door was slightly ajar.

Inside, the curtains had been pulled back allowing an outside flood light to illuminate a somewhat untidy room. At first everything looked normal, lived in, comfortable - though sparsely furnished. However, a more thorough examination would reveal that the papers littered on the floor weren’t merely garbage but pages ripped from a book. Boot prints pressed into them revealed a struggle that continued in scuff marks on the concrete. The bedspread had been yanked from its previously made state and was now crumpled halfway off the bed. Sticking out from underneath the plain blanket was the rim of the pyro’s heirloom frying pan - a nearly imperceivable coating of dried blood caked the bottom where it touched the ground.  

Ern was nowhere to be seen.

~~~

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