3 August 2012
Seems like a long time ago.. But I had intended to write stories.. Here's an early one
My senses are heightened. I feel their presence nearby, watching. They are getting bolder, ready to pounce. You may think me paranoid, but it's not the first time their kind have come for me.
I'm weak, tired and scared.
I haven't slept for days and it's been a week since I have been able to keep down what little food I eat.
Maybe I should give up; let them take me. I might be the only one left anyway, so where is my future? Will it always be this way? Hunted and alone.
I turn a corner, stop and look back down the street I left. Two shadowy figures duck into a shop doorway.
A wry smile passes my lips, are my stalkers shy? Afraid? Why do they hide in the shadows? Why not just get this over with?
I consider confronting them. Take this fight to them. But the fear comes back like a knife filleting my spine. I run.
I feel my feet slap the pavement, jarring my knees and sending bolts of pain all the way to my jaw.
The street is deathly quiet. Ahead, nothing moves. Behind, I hear the footfall of those no longer worried about secrecy.
I run despite my pain wrecked body because the alternative is unbearable. I haven't survived this long to surrender now. Maybe it's only pride that keeps me alive.
My feet slap the Tarmac, my arms claw the air as if to pull me faster through space.
Pain courses through me, the stench of their flesh clogs my nostrils as i try to force oxygen into my screaming muscles and my jaw pounds as my body thuds down the deserted high street. Pain and rotten flesh, that's all there is.
I am given a little hope when I hear a yell behind me. My two pursuers are reduced to one. I glance back. Bad mistake. I see the figure of my hunter, close enough to discern his features below his hood, twisted in malice.
I keep running, desperate for a way. Pain and rotten flesh.
Do I risk trying a door?
There's no time. I can smell his fetid breath . My throat is raw, I start to cry and feel a hand grab my coat.
Shrugging him off, I change direction, jumping over an abandoned car.
I can see an open window. The pain is unbearable, all my instincts are telling me to stop but I can't give in.
The window isn't open enough, but I think I have enough precious seconds to make it inside.
A roar from behind startles me, I look back. He smiles at me, little stalagmites of spittle in between his grotesque lips.
Turning, I see the kerb too late. My foot clips it's edge, sending me toppling.
He is upon me and I can fight the pain no longer. I crash into the wall. My jaw dislocates and I scream. I must survive. I am the last.
As my jaw reforms I turn to my foe. The hunger is unbearable now.
I look into his eyes and am free of all guilt. Before he can cause any harm I bury my teeth into his neck and rip it open.
Pain and rotten flesh. That's all I have. I am the last and I make sure it stays that way.
I will survive.
I feed.
I curl up against the pebble dashed wall and sob. I feel so guilty. Not really because of what I have just done, but because I enjoyed it so much. The ecstasy still courses through my bulging veins and it thrills me. Every nerve in body pulses to a rocking beat, yet the guilt of my shredded humanity fights to maintain a presence.
For the first time in weeks I am strong and completely satisfied. Eating random animals might keep me alive but who am I kidding? I can not and should not deny what I have become. There is plenty of scum in this world to feed upon, even more so since the changes. Its kill or be killed.
I look at the remains of what was my hunter, the gnawed bones that once held this sack of shit together. My face is caked and my hair matted with gore.
I will survive.
I am evolution.
My mother gave birth to me twice, the second time only a few months ago. I like to think she believed this change a blessing rather than a curse and who am I to dishonour her?
That was before we were discovered and hunted to virtual extinction. I do not honestly know how we began or what numbers we were, but after a few stray new-borns were consumed by greed and lust the public were forced to acknowledge our existence. They were afraid and did what humans do best, destroy. It was quick and brutal.
That was when I started running, I left my mother screaming as she burned.
I will run no more. I am standing tall. I will find and create companions, but I will learn from the mistakes of my family.
My thoughts are disturbed my something being knocked over nearby.
I look up and see the second of my pursuers catch up. Before he can register our eye contact I jump. God this feels good. The world flies by in a blur as I land in front of the out of breath hunter.
I am not hungry, but I am angry. I stand over him and allow him enough time to utter a small prayer, then I slam my hands against his ears. I hear bone splinter, feel warm blood and brains escape from his destroyed skull.
I deny my guilt. I am not human. I am better.
I will not run.
But I will hide.
For now.
Chased • Opuss № I