Welcoming Committee “It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” - Jiddu Krishnamurti “Wakey, wakey.” Gerrit opened his eyes. They were worn, but it felt like he was just getting used to them. They were the only part of his body he was able to move. He looked around in abject terror. Before him loomed a full-length mirror. He was in a posh dressing room, sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a tuxedo and a large, ugly helmet. From behind, the sultry voice struck again, emerging from the shadows along with a faint trail of smoke. “Welcome to Earth. I’m sure you don’t remember it. At least not yet. Those rebels really did a number on your brain.” She walked up to the liquor cabinet before Gerrit, heels clacking the floor with each loud step. The woman looked to be in her early thirties, clad in a very elegant ballroom gown. Her touch on his arm sent shivers down the boy’s spine, and it’s no wonder, he thought as she downed a glass of brandy.
What do You think about Raine VS The End Of The World?
