THE BLOODY FOOTPRINT

For reedsy 2.

THE BLOODY FOOTPRINT____by Mara Masolini

A woman, all disheveled, her face scratched, a woman without arms, sunk, rather than sitting, into one hole of that kind of lava haze which is all that remains of what the earth was, she, spitting saliva, was   barking  that the sun had fallen on the earth, that is why the catastrophe, the hecatomb which destroyed animals, plants , buildings, and which exterminated much of the human race. Indeed it exterminated most of the humans, but, it seems, not all humans, since I have been wandering through these lava islands for days and, like I have seen, there are still men and women who survived the destruction.  And I have seen that most of the survivors are either legless or armless, there are hardly to find survivors with a whole body.                                                                                                                                                                                      I have said that I have been wandering for days, but I should said instead that I’m running away. Well, yes, I, who is among the survivors of the almost total destruction, I ‘m on the run, chased by  my killer. Of him, of my killer, I know  neither the name, nor the face , but his bloody footprint has been following me relentlessly since the day of the global catastrophe. Now I’m not able to realize how many days have passed since then, when , from the bed in which I lay down____I was sleeping___I found myself thrown on a gray mound which might have been ash or lava. The bed was gone, and with the bed the roof was gone, the house was gone, of which not even the rubble remained, it had been pulverized.

Impossible to realize how much time has passed since then, because not only the clocks are gone, but it seems the sun is also disappeared. There are no more sunrises , no more sunsets, the sky is a gray and  leaden hood almost completely devoid of light, if not for certain flashes, which look like flames, appearing and disappearing, intermittently, on the horizon.                                                                                                    The sun fallen on the earth, how that very scary looking woman was barking……How many times I have seen in my dreams the sun which was going to fall on the earth, immense ball of fire, flaming ,which , rolling, was getting closer and closer to the earth.         But no, responsible of the catastrophe could not have been the sun which would have fallen on the earth, otherwise no survivors would be. And instead some of us humans are still alive. No, the sun did not fall on the earth, rather the sun disappeared, and who knows where it has gone.                                                                                                                                             But the bloody footprint has followed me. It is advancing, at a slow but firm step, even if I see the imprint of only one foot. Ah, it’s approaching ,I see the imprint standing out , bright its red, on the gray of this dusty slime. Few steps and it will reach me. I have to run away again. Of course I know that in this post-catastrophe world, with the destruction of everything, it is impossible to find a hiding place to escape my killer, inevitably his bloody footprint reaches me wherever. Oh, then, where to go among these heaps of...no, we can’t even call them rubble, since it is rather a dusty and, at the same time, viscous material ( matter) mixed with a kind of ash which, however, is not even ash,  since it seems rather made of crumbled stones.                                                                                                                                                                                   I happened in this time to see also a hand of him, of my killer, a hand dripping with blood , which was about to grab me by neck, when I had stopped to walk with one of the maimed survivors of the catastrophe.         I noticed the hand,  ___it was dripping blood,  as befits the hand of a killer, perhaps a professional killer____just in time to be able to escape. That hand was very close to my neck, ready to grab it. I noticed  it by chance, turning  only a little my head. Then I ran away very very quickly, while the maimed one started to smirk. “ Oh, but what’s wrong with you? Oh, but where does this silly woman go? Ah really she is crazy!”

Now I can’t even say if the bloody footprint chased me even before…..before the world was reduced to….a gray dusty and slippery desert. Ah, I don’t know, that is I don’t remember. Probably that the catastrophe has affected my memory, my capably of memory.

I can’t even complain about the loss of anyone ,I cannot say that I lost my family or someone I was living with because of the catastrophe, of this end of the world which, however, and it is not clear why, left at least some of the humans alive. No, I had not lost anyone, since I lived alone and I had no friends. Ah, I was living with a cat, but he had gone away from long when the catastrophe hit our planet. Unfortunately among the survivors of the catastrophe there is also my killer.

Oh, I’m running away, I’m breathless, but I have keeping on running as fast as I can, at breakneck speed, to escape my killer. A little ago I managed to get away, so I gained some distance from my stalker, but I have to see that the red footprint is still following me. For a moment, oh, just an instant, it seemed that it was

wavering, so that I could hope, just for a brief moment, just for the minimum time of a sighing, to see it disappear, perhaps to sink into this kind of slime, which can no longer be called ground, this gray slime which  we step on.  But, damnation, bad devil, the step which leaves that bloody footprint has straightened and now is keeping on following me at higher speed.  I slide out one of these gray heaps of gray matter, a dusty and, at the same time, slippery matter, yeah, it seems just made to make those who walk on it fall….

Ah, but I has  slipped , and I find myself floating in a viscous and smelly liquid which extends from one heap of gray matter to another No, these heaps of gray matter cannot be called islands, since they are not made of earth, or even of stones or rocks and the dark liquid which is between each of them and the other is not at all water. No one would really ever think of washing with this liquid, which instead is good for getting dirty. Despite the not light discomfort of being all smeared with this smelly liquid, as I fall into it

I still hope that the red, bloody footprint of my killer , which continue implacable to follow me, sink into this great and almost deep puddle of dark liquid, Ah, what a relief if the bloody footprint would sink in it and would disappear. I see it throwing itself, with a leap, on the surface of the dark liquid ,as soon as I can reach, all dripping with dirt and smelly, another heap of  gray matter. But, alas, the bloody print, instead of sinking into it, walks confidently on the surface of the dark and foul-smelling puddle.

I barely glance, fleetingly, turning my head just a little, behind me, ready to start running again, and running as fast as possible. The footprint, the only visible sign with which my killer reveals his presence,

has already settled on the heap of gray matter, it is approaching me, at a few centimeters from me.

I start again to run, with a lift of my legs like I should take a leap high, and I really would like I could fly.

Oh, I could lift my body up in the air, my killer’s damned foot , with its blood print, couldn’t keep up with me.

“ This…this bad damned one must be killed” I hear a voice blowing  on my neck. A hallow, hoarse, terrible voice, gushing from a very deep , black abyss.” We absolutely need to take her out as soon as possible…..Our good name is at stake. She must die! Otherwise goodbye to our reputation and to the consent we can enjoy….If this…this very bad one stays alive, we all will be despised “ The hoarse, black voice is blowing on my neck, on my head.

Oh, but listen! Are there still someone who care about the  good name and the consent after the terrible catastrophe? I can’t help but wonder, as I keep on running out of breath,  with ny heart rising in my throat.

Something like the point of a pin pricks my nose and, soon after, oh terrible feeling, it gets into my eye. It must be a torture carried out by my pursuer, as well as my killer, to make me collapse. It cannot be insects bites, since the huge catastrophe even destroyed them all. “ You know, you’re wrong” the black voice

from the abyss roars very close to me, blowing its frightening grin into my ear.

“ You’re very wrong” the raspy, rusty voice sneaks , hissing, into my ear. “It was not me who stung you. What caught you was the exterminating virus which, yeah, survived the catastrophe.”                         

Ah, I can’t believe it, since I know that viruses don’t sting. “Ah, you must know that …” my pursuer’s voice

starts again to say, chuckling, “that the terrible exterminating virus not only survived the catastrophe, but it was also empowered by the global destruction. The survived virus has acquired the capably to sting, as a mosquito , or, rather, as a wasp, since it stings causing pain.”

The voice of my stalker, as well as my killer, reveals all his joy, all his enjoyment, while is saying that the sting of the virus causes pain.

The exterminating virus, of course….now I remember that not long before the global catastrophe, which, at least it seems, no one knows what caused it, ah, months earlier the catastrophe a terrible virus had caused a global pandemic, killing millions of people. Even then there was talk of the end of the world, or, at least, of the human race, decimated by the virus. And, look a little, the exterminating virus has survived  the catastrophe! But I can’t think about the virus, now. I must rather try escape my killer, who keeps on pursuing me implacably, with his bloodstained step. While I’m  running at breakneck speed, damnation, I hear a buzz around my head, just like the buzz which wasps and bees make when they are about to attack with their stingers. Alas, I must also care to escape from the assault of this army of insects, and perhaps  they are a team of the terrible scourge virus of humanity.        

Suddenly I see a group of legless men and women , seated in wheelchairs, who are advancing towards me. Now that I think about it, it is at least strange that the huge catastrophe, which destroyed buildings and cars, trains and airplanes, streets and bridges, furniture and utensils, did not destroyed also wheelchairs.

“But where are you running so madly? Stop!” The legless yell at me. while they surround me. preventing me from continuing my desperate escape. “Let me pass! I have to run away! My killer is chasing me! Let me pass or he’ll kill me!”I scream.

They, the legless people, laugh with evidently satisfaction. “But what killer? There Is no killer who is chasing you” As they say so, I see the bloody footprint in front of me, as if it had climbed over me.

“ Ah this…but this is just a game we play for fun! AH! Ah! Ah! No need to escape! Nobody wants to kill you” they say. The bloody footprint suddenly disappears.

The legless, who now seem to have become much more numerous, continue to surround me. They are becoming more and more close to me, closing me as between walls.

I try to make my way among them, to continue my path, but I cannot go through them.

“But let me pass! I want to go away!”I shout. A narrow space, between them, opens in front of me, so I can

running again. And I get stabbed on my back, as soon as I start to run, while the legless giggle around me.

“ Ah! Ah! What a nice joke, eh,we have made for you!” they say, giggling, while I fall to the ground, I’m dying.