Alone

By: N

    The forest ends abruptly, and the first time in a long while, I can say I’m truly alone. Not a sound is made, excluding my pained breathing. It’s ragged, and I know I am not long for the world. A small piece of metal, something innocent in it’s true nature, turned into a blade that turns me to nothing but prey. My lungs are on fire, matching the rest of my muscles, all screaming out in dying shouts. I’m supposed to be a hero aren’t I? Why am I like this then? Why am I the one who dies? A million miles away from home, and I die with nothing accomplished, nothing gained from my sacrifice.

    My mind wanders like my body has been for the past hour. Lost, that’s all I am, physically and mentally. It all hurts, everything’s gone wrong and I’m losing feeling in my body. It’s funny, to think I was freezing a few minutes ago, and now I am tearing my clothes to seek comfort from the raging inferno in my body. I remember that the final stages of hypothermia was a sudden rush of warmth, and I’m not fazed by this revelation. I’m dying anyways, this only puts the icing on top.

    I see things now, all of the horrors that I’ve hidden away in a deep realm within my mind. Large creatures, blobs that cannot be blinked away from sight. They’re burned into my eyes, even if they’re truly not there. They reach but cannot touch, for they are just nightmares. Even as an adult I’m plagued by them.

    Decimated bodies lunge towards me, and I know these are real, they’re the reason I’m this walking mess. I pray they don’t make me one of them, to be so unlucky. The sword I once carried, the pride of my family, is now buried in the snow miles back. I’d lost it a time ago. A dagger is all I own, which is nothing when fighting these things.

    They fall one at a time, tripping over each other to get a mere chance to sink their teeth into my skin. Animals that were once something greater, each one having a family that loved them and a spark that made them unique. Now all they had was a fire that never died, and always desired to consume everything that my own spark was.

    I’ve lived a long life in terms of the post-apocalyptic survivor. A good twenty two years before all of it, and a solid fourteen year run afterwards. I might even be remembered by people back in town. They might praise me for my duties.

    I blink my tired eyes and find nothing in front of me. I’m at a steep cliff, dropping far beyond my sight. The mountains offer no safety for me. The snow picks up and turns into a blizzard, visibility dropping rapidly. Everything is just a pure white, and it would be beautiful if it wasn’t for my imminent demise. Behind me I can hear the dead near. No snow or terrain can stop them when they have their sights on something so promising as me.

    A quick glance around offers no escape. The only option is death. I back away slowly, hitting the edge of the ground. The wind whips my hair, the long having come undone, the black strands obscuring my vision. With little time left, I act, kicking the ledge I stand on, the dirt cracking and breaking free from the frozen ground. With this final act of defiance, I tumble into the darkness below.