The Salvation

A harsh, chilling wind sweeps across my cheeks, numbing the torturing twinge of pain. Blundering, I wrestle the invisible foe. My coat thrashes in my wake. The sun descends in the sky, collapsing into crimson horizons. Gales shriek in the distance. Daylight would soon yield and pave the path for the moon… I raise my head examining my surroundings as a grin etches itself on my face. I gaze at what stood before me: an abandoned building. Tiles encasing its frame, caving in some places, but the roof remains predominantly intact despite years of weathering. Tonight, I needn’t succumb to the expectations of the world. For the first time in a while, I could be safe. I all but embrace the beaten door, shuddering slightly from the bitterness. As I falter the door gives in. Battering shut behind me, it generates a raucous ring, provoking me to call out; the replies, echoes of myself.

The airlock is functioning, regardless of its decayed appearance. Exhaustion escapes my lips as I remove the claustrophobic contraption that had previously suffocated my respiratory system. Dumping its flaccid form like a mutilated corpse; it served no other purpose than filtering the air. Warmth smothers my mouth and I hold it there. Reassurance. This is real, it’s not some fanciful refuge. Glancing down, I grimace when I catch sight of my gloves, even now they bury my past, abolishing the deep slopes of lumped skin, both old and new, but it’s the price we must pay. 

No one can reach me here. I am free. My shoulders plunge at this realisation. Safe. I snort in disbelief. Safe-the word providing the comfort I could only imagine as a child left to scavenge this wasteland, slaughtering to sate my starvation, and you, you have no idea what that can do to an innocent soul. How it taints the pure of heart and tears them inside out. That’s what happens in a ravaged world.

Noiselessness sulked in every corner, confirming my alienation. My complete isolation. I was outcast by my own, forever alone. The red rust covering every surface fades as my eyelids fall and sleep sinks its fangs into my form. Only in unconsciousness can I truly hide.

I jolt from my stupor, my sorrows tormenting my stirring moments… I could’ve helped, last night. I could’ve saved another. Why? Why didn’t I? The answer to my question continues to elude me…. I would find no answer, not here. 

A clattering escapes the far corner. Surging up, I notice my palm ghosting over the weather-torn hilt of my dagger. My eyes dart frantically around the unaccustomed gloom, seeking something, any explanation for the intrusion. Nothing followed the interruption except the wails and howls of the cursed. These once human beasts walk with the dark, killing the few of us remaining. They rule the night. Some entered their folds willing, praising it, our salvation. During this, I move from where I formerly lurked; better cautious than dead. I hoisted myself up onto the beams supporting the ceiling. The steel joists, like the beam I’m occupying, flow through the building, joining every wall. If I glanced skyward, I would see a geometric maze, dictating my focus…. People first sheltered in masses, crowding structures similar to this one. They made easy targets. It would not surprise me if the murky concrete had once been pools of blood feeding the earth with flesh. But that was long ago when people with full bellies discussed for hours the rescuing of the planet. Instead they caused the Downfall. The very destruction that created me. There is no need to trouble myself; we don’t have that liberty.

The solemn sound of footsteps erupts, clogging every crevice of the building. As the footfalls attain distance, I can distinguish two sets of feet. No one should be here. Unless they’ve found me. They have my scent and a great reason to want my head. It’s not every day one comes across a bounty from the free cities. I attempt to remain concealed. Let’s just hope this works….

I peer down after disconnecting my thoughts to see the bobbing heads of the hunters. An irritated murmur emits from one of the figures beneath me. So much for safety. You’ve saved yourself before. You can do it again. The hunters are dressed in leather swatches, weapons filling the empty spaces. But these, with the heavy panting, fresh faces, and ever increasing heart rates, are amateurs; it’s unlikely they’ve seen battle. However, if they’re here, it won’t be long till the regulars appear. They pose a threat. It is now their mutterings become clearer. They don’t even know and the cities don’t want the truth to be spilled.

Moonbeams now splinter through the roof, highlighting my location. They fall silent. Nothing moves except the dead. Pointing at me, their faces tense, as I meet their ogles, I realise their apprehension. They didn’t expect me. No one does. A slight smirk emerges on my lips. The hands of the hunters reach for their holsters with fumbling fingers and stiff movements. Not even the newly initiated are this idiotic.

I watch, waiting, judging every movement. Every howl from the wind reaches my ears, every scream racing with the moon. More will fall tonight, more will die and those already dead will feast. The creatures. The faceless beings who roam the night. They are vultures sinking their teeth into any morsel of bone-ridden flesh that happens upon their gathered wake. The only way to survive here is to become better, or worse, than which haunts us.

We must find the will to be the predator.

At that moment, I decide the fate of my hunters. They dress in false trophies. Wrapped like presents. Lucky me. Soundlessly plummeting to the ragged, stained concrete, I land in a crouch with my coat billowing. My fingertips drag effortlessly along the sharp surface. Tasting the iron of blood as teeth pierce my tongue. My hunters split. One in front and one behind. The phantom of a sneer is drawn upon my smirk as I reach forward. The hunter is facing away, searching for me. The shadows cover my descent. The shift in the air brings a disturbance to our roles. They are not yet aware.

I reel in disgust as my flesh latches onto the thick soaking blubber of neck. Wasting no time, I place my other hand into the greasy slop atop his scalp and yank. The satisfying crunch is symphonies sounding as the mangled wreckage falls. I watch, relishing in the exact second the spark vanishes as if it had never been. And you thought you were safe. Secure. You wouldn’t have to do this. Well, aren’t you a fool.

I look up at his friend. Turning, my neck stretches so I can connect our eyes. My soul stares into hers as her jaw falls and cries of anguish explode into emptiness. One down, one to go. I hum an old rhyme that I picked up some time ago…. I believe an ally of mine. I fight against stroking the indentation covering the width of my face,my debut artwork. Don’t worry I still served my revenge.

I allow my sneer to take over. My heart gallops. But I am not content... I cannot enjoy my accomplishment. There is work to be done. Jack may have lost his… think! The rest of the rhyme... crown. But, Jill is yet to follow. 

My blade is unsheathed and anticipation crams into the leather. Rejoicing with each step, I saunter over to the sobbing, scrambling fear-filled frame of the remaining bounty hunter. One swift single stab is all it takes to conclude her suffering. I continue to hum brushing her hair out of her face, analysing her blank eyes. Humming, now aloud, I let the dead hear of my accomplishment, not faltering as an extension of myself delves deeper into the corpse.

And Jill crumbled. Exuberance unfurls throughout my skin, extending to the verge of each limb, all stained red. Standing, I walk over to where I left my gas mask and approach the door.

I saved them, freed them…

I launch open both doors, feeling the bodies of the cursed staggering around me, swarming the entrance. I glance up and smile at the moon.

Now you know, there is one solution to ensure safety. One answer for survival. A single resolution.

Be the salvation.