Our Future is Bleak

My eyes flash open to screaming; bloodcurdling, heart-jolting, straight from a murder movie. Springing out of bed I spin around, trying to take in my surroundings. It seems that I am in my apartment but it is different, aged and deserted. The bed, my bed, that I was previously lying on, has moth eaten sheets. The frame is crooked, as if it has been jumped on one too many times, and is slowly decaying from rot. Junk litters the ground forming a maze to maneuver as I push through cobwebs to get out. 

I rack my brain to figure out how I got here. The last thing I remember is struggling to turn my clock ahead an hour for daylight savings. Earlier that morning, I may or may not have flung that defective alarm clock halfway across my room due to it waking me up at an ungodly hour. A few screws and springs came loose, but nothing unfix-able. Another yell of complete and utter horror shakes me into the present. No matter the reason or cause, I am stuck in some sort of alternate reality with a monster roaming the streets.

Shoving open the entrance door, immediately my eyes begin to burn, and I quickly realize it is because of the ash and smoke drifting through the air, dulling all my senses. Seeing five feet away is difficult, the white noise of consistent yells is deafening, and smoke envelops my mouth and nose. I am a sitting duck for the creatures in the shadows. I stumble through the rubble and reach a newspaper stand. This is always how characters in movies figure out what is happening, and hopefully it will do me the same justice. March 8, 2174 is smeared across the top in faded ink. Who knows when the last paper was printed. That when it struck me, a slap across the face, I am in my world, only 154 years ahead in time.

¨There must be some logical explanation¨ I think as I pinch myself, praying that I wake up safe and sound, in my own timeline. Nothing happens other than a slightly purple bruise already surfacing on my forearm. The usually breath taking skyscrapers look menacing while they tower over my head, making me want to cower under the nearest bench. Restraining myself from doing just that, I force my legs to keep moving, in hopes of finding other life. Unfortunately, I come upon the very thing that is destroying my chances of finding someone else. 

 I cannot tear myself away from the graphic scene. The monster rips through an innocent human's neck, letting the body dangle loosely as they struggle, to no avail, and eventually flinging the shredded head straight off its shoulders. Tossing it behind them, the rabid creature continues to devour the lifeless body's blood, draining it to the last drop. The head bounces and then rolls, coming to a stop at my feet. Empty eyes stare up at me from the puddle of dark wine-red blood. I dreadfully bring my gaze back to the murderer, who is human, or at least very close to one. The only noticeable variations are its pale papery skin, veins pulsing underneath. Oh, and its blood-shot eyes, which are now staring right into my soul. Seconds blur into minutes as we partake in an intense staring contest. I can't move. 

When I see the monsters leg muscles tense I grimmance, awaiting my impending doom, only to be yanked backwards. My savior, a flash of auburn hair and black clothing, shoves me behind her and, with perfect accuracy, embeds a gold knife into the heart of my would-be-killer. He crumples to the ground, hitting the pavement with a sickening thud. 

¨We are lucky that it was just a newborn,¨ she spats, turning heels and striding away. Shell shocked and bewildered, I chase after her, terrified of being alone. ¨Wait, please help me,”I stutter, pushing out words between my labored breaths, ¨what was that thing?¨ 

 ¨You're not from around here, are you?¨ She questions, looking me up and down, critiquing with shockingly electric blue eyes. After taking in my lanky legs, bony arms, and tangled brown hair she nods and seems to accept that I am a damsel in distress and if left to my own devices will be dead in mere hours. Taking pity on me, she motions for me to follow and explains as we do. 

If i'm understanding this correctly, the government tried to create some sort of superhuman for the war against the islanders and it backfired, badly. Instead, it genetically mutated the subjects, and they turned into, as far as I can tell, vampires. The natives here call them Sykuri, which roughly translates to ¨soul snatcher¨ Apparently, these things don't need blood, as a vampire would, to survive, but the souls of other creatures, including humans. To obtain the souls, the Sykuri first completely mutilate their victim, and then they crush their heart with their bare hands. This doesn't allow the soul to be at peace and fuels the Sykuri to further killings. 

Flustered, I try to explain about my time traveling, but she doesn't seem to buy it. Whatever the case, I need to get out of here. I'll stick with her until I can find someone who knows how I can get home. 

¨This is where we part¨ she states ¨best of luck¨. 

Before I can even utter a single word, she is gone with the wind, leaving me to my own wits, which, I must say, are not very good. Alone again, I try not to freak out, but my sweaty palms and shaking knees say otherwise. I catch myself on the nearest wall and drag my limp body into an alleyway. This is where I am going to die, I just know it. 

As if they heard my dark thoughts, two Syukri appear at the mouth of the alley, trapping me. I fall backwards, tripping over my own feet in my hurry to put as much distance between myself and them as possible. I halt to a stop when the inanimate objects begin to move, revealing more Syukri. One of them jumps from a rooftop, while the others shimmer out of the shadows, enclosing me in a circle of death. That's when it all goes black.