MAIN GALLERY/AI-ENHANCED GALLERY/WARLAMA

Halloween 2025 No Tomorrow 3D Render, Digital Artwork by Warlama

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Halloween 2025 No Tomorrow

AI-Enhanced 3D Render by Warlama

Ami: How you doing down there, Win? You ok? You still with me?

Winnie: I… I think so. My head really hurts. I’m feeling kinda weird. I feel nauseous, and I’m seeing double. Everything’s bright, then dark, then bright again. I can taste copper.
(Winnie blinks hard, trying to focus. Her fingers twitch against the pistol grip, smearing blood where her grip slips. A faint tremor runs through her shoulders.)

(Ami pauses, fingers fumbling the radio, then letting it fall. Static answers.)

Ami: Breathe. Focus. You are here. Stay in the fight. Aim for the one in the middle.

Winnie: How much rifle ammo you got left?

Ami: Rifles are dry. I’ve got three pistol mags, two glow flares, one smoke bomb. That’s it. What about you?

Winnie: Four mags and a bit. My hands keep slipping on the slide.
(She tries to reload, the mag catches, then drops from her shaking fingers, hitting the pavement with a dull clack. She mutters a curse, picks it up, and wipes it against her shirt and slides it in before slamming it against the cold metal of the car's rear passenger door. The slide sticks halfway; she hits it with the heel of her palm, forcing it forward. Her breath stutters from the pain.)

Winnie: Ami, you know what? The world is feeling smaller and smaller around me, like a door is closing behind my eyes.
(She rubs her temple, smearing dirt and sweat. Her breath catches, uneven, every inhale shorter than the last. With a sharp inhale, Winnie pops up just enough out of cover behind the rear door, peering along the rear windshield, and squeezes off a few rounds. The gun jerks in her trembling hands, each shot a jagged punctuation in the chaos around them. She ducks back behind the door, pressing herself close to the metal as her chest heaves.)

Winnie: Can we use the smoke to make a break for it?

Ami: Won’t work. They’ll push through it too fast, before we can get away.

Winnie: Anything left on the soldier?

Ami: Picked clean. Nothing worth taking.

Winnie: Radio? Any word?

Ami: Radio’s 86’d. Nothing coming through.

Winnie: Ami… who comes for the rescue team when things go to shit!? Who rescues the rescuers?

(Ami inhales, a long sound that catches halfway. For the first time her voice drops.)

Ami: Sometimes nobody. Sometimes the plan breaks, and you’re it. We were the ones supposed to answer the call.

Winnie: You know what scares me most, Ami? It’s not dying. It’s knowing there will still be a tomorrow. That the sun will rise, the city will wake up, people will drink coffee and laugh, life will continue on and I won’t see any of it. The world keeps spinning, and we just... fall off.

Winnie: We’re gonna answer that call with our lives, aren’t we?

(A distant car horn....A baby crying far off.....A radio playing a song that does not belong here. The sounds stretch and feel obscene. Winnie presses her palm against her eye, wincing at the throbbing pulse beneath her skull.

Winnie: I keep seeing the morning. Not like a place we get to, but like something without us in it. The sunrise comes for other people. I don't think I will see it.

(Ami breaks line of sight and ducks down beside Winnie behind the car, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her eyes to meet her own. Winnie’s pupils lag in focus, one slow, one trembling. Ami reassures her while quickly checking her worsening condition.)

Ami: Eyes on me. Hands steady. One target at a time. We get through this like we always do.

Winnie: My hands have stopped listening.
(She tries to rack the slide again. It jams. Her weak grip fumbles; the casing half-ejects and dangles before Ami reaches over and clears it with a sharp motion. The sound of the metal snapping forward is deafening in the quiet between bursts of gunfire.) My thoughts slip. I keep thinking of nothing and everything at once: where I left my lighter, a dog barking last week, my sister telling me to eat more. It all rushes up, then it’s gone.

(Her head lolls slightly; Ami steadies it with a firm grip.)

Ami: You are not forgotten. You are not lost to the dark yet. We hold this corner till we can’t.

Winnie: If anyone finds us, if anyone ever learns what happened, I hope they know we counted every breath. We kept our heads. We kept each other.

(Ami swallows audibly. She claws a smile into her voice.)

Ami: You did more than that. You kept fighting. You showed it and meant it.

Winnie: I can taste the city, the rust, the old rain. My ears are ringing, and everything is closed in, like a room with no doors. I am tired. I am sorry. I am scared.

Ami: Me too, me too.

Winnie: I do not want to be a story people tell badly. the small things..... I want them to know I was thinking of the sunrise even when I can't see it.

I’m not a hero. I’m not special. The real truth. I’m shaking and shivering, I want them to know I’m terrified. I’m scared. I’m afraid.

I would want to keep living. I don't want to die. I don’t want to die here. I want to go home. I’m crying. I want my mother. I want to be safe.

(They breathe together for a small moment. The noises outside creep closer. Lightning from tracer fire paints the side of the car in flickers of orange and white. Winnie’s hand, trembling, grips Ami’s sleeve. The pistol hangs loosely from her other hand, finger slack on the trigger. Their voices grow thin but steady.)

Ami: They'll know, They'll figure it out.

AI used for punctuation and spell checking purposes only.