26 June 2012
He ran... Bare feet through the ramshackled street. The once smooth road now littered with debris and rubble. His feet stung with the virgin sensation of unprotected soles clashing with untamed ground.
The distant sound of rumbling...an electric feeling of pure instinctual fear, the urge to flee, coursed through is small and dangly body. His eyes welled and hot tears, filled with bewildered fear and strife, ran down his cheeks. He snapped out of it, he knew this wasn't the time, this primal instinct could not even be overridden by something as powerful as human emotion.
He ran, faster and faster, he could feel the stitches forming in his side, he couldn't breath. He stopped in an exhausted splutter, he desperately tried to engulf the dusty, rancid air. He couldn't do this any longer....
Laying there on the broken ground, his mind processed this atrocity it faced. His heart pounded with panic, fear and grief. This place he was laying in was a street near a park, where he came to play with his mother, father and his little brother. Where were they? He asked this over and over, but he knew the answer...the cracking damns of his scarred soul finally gave way to the pressure; a flood of tears swept down his dusty face, he screamed in agony at his loss of his kin, of his world, of his hopes.
He lay there in this destroyed neighbour hood surrounded by the smell of burnt corpses. He lay there wishing he be dead, cursing himself... He should have stayed, he should have died as well.
Suddenly through his drowned senses he heard her. Her sweet voice it carried through the smoggy wind like a gentle fragrance, "Run! Darling, Run!" An explosive blast surged through the area, they were coming to survey the area! He needed to get away!
He heard the not so distant roar of a jet. He knew now that the feeling of glee and joy he once had when he saw these glistening metal birds was wrong, he knew now the destruction, misery and hellfire the disgusting machines would bring. He ran... *** He finally got to where he was sure they would be safe. His heart unburden slightly when he saw the sight of them. The only people he knew in the world now... His friend and his sister. The two seemed a cold and distant version of themselves. He finally reached his sanctuary, feet bruised and bleeding, his lungs scarred with the smoke and debris that filled the air, he let out a rusty sigh tinged with the bloody taste of iron.
At the top of this still green and forested hill, all three stood with their numb bodies unable to process the shock of what lay before them. A strong wind blew up this strangely unhindered island of emerald among sea of concrete and rubble, newspapers drifted past... It reminded him.
He looked at his friends, he saw their hollow eyes to weak to shed a tear and felt only what could be described as mixture between a yearning of sorrow and anger. He turned to face his once peaceful home, this grand city once full of families and life as far as the eyes could see, was now reduced to the meagre ruins of tomorrow.
He saw them; the hideous war machines, soulless and cold. The jets flying do proudly of their successful mission to commit mass murder, the tanks rolling through the rubble looking to eradicate any small child left like vermin and those humanoid machines bearing the insignia of that wretched country, they walked proud at themselves true homage to superior technology... How disgusting!
Without a glimmer of self-doubt the young boy held his chest high with the pain and despair of loss like no other in his eyes he proclaimed, "One day! I vow, one day! I will obliterate Britannia!"
The Horrors: Britannia Chronicles • Opuss № I