Elysium

A putrid stench assaults his nose, forcing a wave of coughs and splutters from his throat. It is the same stench that engulfs every part of this city. The same smell that has engraved its way into every fibre of his clothing, down to the very last stitch. The same sickening stink that follows him wherever he goes.

The smell of death.

He should be used to it by now. He tells himself this everyday. Perhaps stating it over and over would make it be. Maybe one day, he'd no longer notice. What if one day, he'd be able to close his eyes at night and pretend things were as they used to be? To be able to sleep, temporarily blind to the world, with no smell to act as a constant reminder. A reminder of all that has been lost.

Standing by the entrance to a dimly lit alleyway, it is here where the stench is especially strong. Against his own will, he is forced to double over and retch. The odour is so intense that he nearly faints. He can almost feel it soaking into his skin, staining his bones. Again, he retches, but nothing surfaces. There is nothing left in his stomach to bring up.

It's as this point where he comes to a conclusion. There is no getting used to this smell. How could one possibly adapt to such a thing? How could it be possible to become used to such a disgusting, vile and deeply sickening stench? An odour that digs its way into every item of clothing, every strand of hair and every piece of food that you touch? You could not, no matter how much you pretended otherwise.

An echoing perpetual hum can be heard, roaring from the alley. The noise rattles within his skull, hammering off his eardrums. If he was to simply stand here for a single hour, there would be no doubt that the sound would bring him to the brink of madness.

It is the sound of a thousand buzzing flys.

Once a solitary nuisance, they now inhabit every crevice of this once great city in droves. The luckiest of people - the rich and noble - have nets and newly invented repellents to keep them out of their homes. The poor however, are left to suffer. Flys inhabit almost the entirety of the slums. With nothing there to repel or stop them, they invade the homes of the poor with ease; devouring their food, laying more eggs and spreading the sickness further.

Giant rats run in and out of the alley, all around his feet. If it were not for his thickly leathered boots, they'd be biting into his toes and devouring him in seconds. A single bite would spell his end, even if he were not eaten alive. The rats are the true carriers of the disease. One bite, one little nibble and it would not be long until you are coughing blood and slowly dying.

The rats would normally be swarming him aggressively, despite his boots, if they were not distracted by what lay in the shadowed alleyway. A treasure trove of food for them to feast upon to their heart's content. He nearly retches again at the mere thought.

A light, warm wind blows in his direction and he stumbles back, covering his nose. His eyes begin to water and he nearly trips backwards over a rat that emits a squeak of protest beneath his heel. How he wishes to become used to it all. For it to all end would be a better dream, but even more foolish. There is no end to this until the people are all dead. At the rate at which the disease is spreading, that will not be long.

In that darkened cesspit of filth to which he stares, lay the rotting remains of his parents. He had come here to bid them a final farewell. He had missed their passing and their bodies were removed before he had managed to make it back home.

Now, however, he realises there will be no more goodbyes. He had heard of this place before and had known his parents would be taken here. Here, to the deserted district, to the forbidden slums and to the source of the plague.

Foolishly, he had snuck in upon the Corpse Wagon just to see his parents' shining faces once more. Now, upon seeing the current dumping alley, he immediately regretted his decision. Their faces would no longer be shining. Not anymore. A horde of rats and hungry flys will have seen to that.

No. Here, he would find only death.