Desolate Days

Submitted into Contest #74 in response to: Write a story that takes place across ten days.... view prompt

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Adventure Fiction Fantasy

10 Days left and a journey to complete. His life was a game of cat and mouse and his bittersweet lifestyle was coming to an end. The faint pitter patter of the rain on the roof of his trailer fell like a dagger upon his mentality; small noises like this drove him closer and closer to insanity however he focused his mind-set on his conquest and persevered throughout the deprived landscape. Elijah set forth northbound towards the congruous structure settled skywards. His previously mentioned quest was a journey of willingness and integrity; destined for failure since 7 months ago when he set forth upon his travels. 7 months, a very long walk and a drastic decline in salvation. Elijah’s current choice of location was that of a miniscule shambled hut providing him with a roof over his head when the clouds cried.

Stepping forward, one foot at a time he sauntered along the treacherous mudstone as 8 days remained. However 8 hours may remain due to a distinct lack of nutrients. Elijah’s previous food situation was that of the lonesome remains of a wild boar located just a mile back of his humble establishment. A hebetude sense re-immersed the atmosphere as Elijah’s feet collaborated with the ground. The structure of solitude sailing in the sky pulsated with a crimson glow emanating the surrounding land reducing it to nothing with its radioactive aura. Unfortunately the ultimate destination of Elijah’s quest was that of the ominous ruby obelisk. The purpose of his quest was an unfortunate and unwelcome one, put lightly it was for his own salvation…

Years ago in an oaken cabin Elijah resided with his wife and child, until his rent overcame him and the streets took his life. He fell into a vast depression with nothing beside his clothes and his melancholy personality. So he only had one choice. A discrete man lurked in an establishment erected from the ground skywards on the 13th of February 2049. This man was known as Baltimore and he provided great rewards via great risks, Elijah wished for his old life back before the agony and unfortunate financial choices. However that was the past, the present remained of upmost importance.

6 days left, 6 days and a dream, 6 days to grasp at the conservation of his mentality. He ventured further and further only stopping when rain of the acid variety corrupted his temple scorning his willingness and imprisoning his integrity. Step after step, breath after breath, pained grunt after pained grunt, yet he persevered and continued northbound. A lonesome shadow stood as still as stone wielding an antediluvian rowan bow. Elijah turned with a worrisome look upon his visage as a streak of sycamore struck overhead. A nanoscopic detail yet to be mentioned to Elijah was that he was not alone in his voyage, he would be competing and only one would remain. Figures emerged omnidirectional moving towards his position sometimes in groups and sometimes forsaken. He had to leave…

Throughout his travels he had come into possession of a vast variety of medieval based weaponry, some of which consisted of: Pikes, Lances, and a lonesome rustic battle-axe. His favourite of which was his battle-axe deemed ‘Crystarium’ by Elijah due to its diamond/amethyst structure. 

4 days remained as Elijah’s escapade escalated into an armada of bloodshed and brutality, due to the everlasting threat of humanity. Whilst for the past 7 months he had evaded conflict at all costs, his past caught up to him, as no man had ever lived past Baltimore’s quests. However Elijah was optimistic, yet naïve. A gladiator emerged northbound wielding weapons unknown to mankind. Streaks of sweat strolled down Elijah’s cheeks as he sauntered towards the unnamed figure awaiting a skirmish. And a skirmish was what materialized. Crystarium hit his shield with a deafening blow, whilst a grizzled blade slashed and swiped at Elijah. All hope began to decline, until a stalemate arrived when both parties fell to their knees out of pure desperation and exhaustion. Elijah was the first to move as Crystarium found its way into his opponents nape. His pursuit prolonged.

The ruby glow of the obelisk reiterated the everlasting sense of hopelessness as a deafening irradiated blow blasted Elijah into a chasm of magma and igneous boulders. For a split moment his internal organs coexisted as columns of tangerine infernos, yet he clutched onto the last remaining shreds of hope and willingness. Climbing heavenwards grasping his waist to prevent the loss of more blood he let out a final sigh of regret as his he drifted throughout the realm of consciousness. Was the everlasting struggle that was his life finally concluding? “Not just yet young one.” He heard a voice below him as his spirit began to fade, his grandfather stood below him in an opaque form encouraging Elijah’s mind to persevere. And persevere he did.

2 Days left. 2 days to achieve an unachievable goal. A feat no man had ever accomplished due to its on-going sense of unobtainability. The spire of sanctitude stood before him, spirals of carmine emanating from it. But that mattered not to Elijah as he stood mere metres below it. Integrity was immense throughout Elijah’s veins as he climbed the staircase heavenwards towards the establishment erect in the sky. The tower was of a simple interior as it was that of an arena for warfare, and an unambiguous throne of Ruby stood before him. A blacken warrior perched upon the throne, a scythe of basalt held in hand and wings of ash slashed upon his back. Lucifer sat before Elijah awaiting a battle to scorn the nations. And such a battle commenced…

Crystarium took the first swipe, however to no prevail as an ebony pulsating shield materialised before Elijah, counter blocking the blow. “My turn” Lucifer announced, a sly grin implanted upon his soulless face. His basalt scythe fell upon the ground, shattering the floor with a quake no mortal had ever witnessed, Elijah’s bones shattered at the mere sight of the slam. He flew back until he met the ground colliding with his skull, as his flesh was no more, nor was his willingness as his battle finally concluded with a sinister grin and an ashen swipe of a scythe.

December 31, 2020 11:26

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