Author: Kaelander
Warning: Massively depressing and tends to be gruesome
Summary: The nuclear holocaust triggered by the creation of supernatural humans...
The plot tends to go back and forth in time, so you might get confused....it all makes sense towards the end though
Disclaimer: I do not own or make up the song references or lyrics throughout the story
A world stands shattered from the barrage of war and hatred.
A lone wanderer walks across a nuclear wasteland, with only her memories left behind.
A city creeps silently with the infestation of abominations and mutations.
A man lurks in the shadows with no sense of remorse or pity.
A boy watches as the world passes away into chaos and destruction.
And when we suffer the most, we look to the darkness for refuge. When all we have left is our insanity, we look to our past and remember what it was like back then.
In the end, we blame the futility of the human race.
Welcome to my world.
Chapter 1: Apocalypse
"Love is shooting someone down two kilometres away in the knee caps using an advanced sniper rifle…"
A lonely house stands in the middle of a city, weathered down and corroded by volatile radiation. A solitary and whiskered rat scuttled through the rooms, searching desperately for a trace of food. After finding nothing in the kitchen, despite the discoloured pictures of consumables, it enters the lounge room. The sofas had been thoroughly damaged and the pictures on the wall were cracked and bent to a large angle. The rat climbs to the top of a shelf and stops to observe the view from the high point, little does it know about the deteriorated book hanging on the edge of the furniture. The rumble of life sends the book flying down from the shelf and it lands with a large smack on some creaking and aged machines. The loud sound sends the petrified rat fleeing out the abandoned house.
The book happened to land on a cassette player, and proceeded to play the next song in line:
I see trees of green........ red roses too
I see em bloom..... for me and for you
And I think to myself.... what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue..... clouds of white
Bright blessed days....dark sacred nights
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world.
The colours of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky
Are also on the faces.....of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do
They're really sayin......i love you.
I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
They'll learn much more.....than Ill never know
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world
The colours of a rainbow.....so pretty ..in the sky
Are there on the faces.....of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands.....sayin.. how do you do
They're really sayin I ....love....you.
I hear babies cry...... I watch them grow
You know their gonna learn
A whole lot more than Ill never know
And I think to myself .....what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself .......what a wonderful world.
Rusting rails, withered trees and rotten buildings. Dust only disturbed by the polluted wind, abnormal footprints marked within the broken pavement, a whole street in frozen turmoil. Decaying corpse of a twisted animal on the side of the road, shattered glass sprayed over the black asphalt, only a single sight in a destroyed civilization.
Buildings worn down from sheer bombardment, a sky full of smoky clouds and putrid colours, nothing stirs under the shadowing sun. A world thrown into a living nightmare, a city pulled into the grasp of chaos and insanity, hell has come to the real world.
The sky seems to darken more every day; infected rats tread along the mould of a garden. The park is drained out to grayness, flowers are absorbed from life and the air is full of coughing gas lamps. Trees hang in agony, leafless and stripped of nourishing bark. The water is distilled to a murky mood, blood is scraped on the transparent glass and stones are stained from black oil. Ashes cover the walls of homes, corpses lie in hidden rooms and spilled poison drenches the bleached clothes.
The birds no longer sing along the cherry trees, the fields are blown dry to a barren wasteland. Untouched human rooms and blemished food decomposed to waste. Farms are torn to dust, houses overgrown in weeds and shops excavated of potential usefulness. The community is drenched in nihilism and the world is shrouded in the horror of another age.
The local mall is swept clean of all humanity; traces of spontaneous commercialism decorate the musty hallways of the complex. The dark corners are inhabited by abominations and vicious creatures vying between themselves over the scraps of food. Chairs are toppled over, and barely disturbed afterwards; walls are scratched and bent, while the windows are all broken and smashed both from the inside and the outside. All life is drained away into the hole of decimation.
The corner shop is nothing more than a pile of rubble in the wreckage of a whole metropolis. The road is carved away from the retreating screeches of vehicles; dusty patterns cover the wooden furniture that is still preserved. Dried blood is painted on the opposite street, along the stone grey wall. And the eyes of treacherous monsters watch and hunt from the shadows of the landscape.
The dead leaves rustling are the only sounds breaking the natural silence of the park. The grass is shaded to a putrid brown, the pavement is covered in wild weeds and the statues have been worn down to a pile of tainted marble. A desecrated well stands to the corner of a barren natural park, vile water stands still, brooding the creations of volatile beings. The seeds of life have been vanquished; the act of rejuvenation has been compromised by the vulgar environment. Everything dies in the end, and nothing spawns from the ashes but more of the imaginative horror.
A desperate street, houses on both sides turned derelict and nothing stirs in the presence of predators. The monsters crouch and creak around the opening of urban buildings, there are about five of them. They are hunting someone. A tiny whimper of a lost child in the distance, and the cry of hungry monsters in response. The human child runs as fast as he can, but no one is here to save him today, not this time. The monsters from hell, their faces stripped like corpses and ligaments mutated all over the body, attack and pounce on the defenseless child. The ghouls survive another day with food in their twisted stomachs.
Standing on the highest building, alone and watching the world in empathetic regret. He watches with vindication and respect, the power of the destruction of the world had been witnessed by his own eyes. He looks down on the world around him, eyes glowing like the sun. He counts the atrocities of the ruined utopia and remembers his once precious world. The beasts of the urban wasteland cower in fear of him; they hide away in their holes at the sight of his presence. Black clothes cover his body; a hood is stretched over his head like an abyss and blackens out all light within. Only the eyes can see be seen from the outside of the cowl. A long black cape wavers in the toxic wind. And the fury of a mythical beast is locked deep down within the hatred of the unknown assailant.
He hunts down the creatures and monsters, he tries to make the world around him a better place, although slowly and to an endless futility. The infected ones would be eradicated, almost how his kind was once eradicated. He knew that everything couldn't be reversed, but things could slowly be made better. A new world could be formed from the infertile ashes of this broken earth. You only needed the power to do it.
The grey and dull cityscape below the dark hero motioned little life, as he stood tall watching the wretches of the terrible area. The sun was but a mere bright shadow in the sea of smoky clouds. Little wind breezed past him, even at his altitude. The moment was almost frozen with the world at the hands of an apocalypse and the dark assailant standing and watching it go by.
And when movement stirred in the dangerous world below, he spun rapidly around and left his high perch. The horrors will become the haunted, and the insane creatures will be put to rest. The dark one appeared from the shadows of behind the highest building, on the ground floor. It seemed like he floated along the ceramic floor, past the withered plant pots and the broken glass doors. A black ghost with eyes like a blazing fire, reaching out from the madness of the void.
And the monsters wouldn't know until the last moment. The creatures wouldn't run until they were the last of their kind standing. The sun was setting, despite the similarity between the dawn and the dusk in this weather. The night was coming; more horrors of the underworld would appear in the darkness. But then again so would he, and then the others would be on the watch to protect their own kind.
Because everyday and every moment was a battle to survive, it was a war against everyone else. Mutant, monster, human, you were alone against the world and fighting to defeat the challenges of life.
The dark one moved closer silently towards the position of ghouls, their scathed faces and bloodshot eyes kept focused on the stash of salted and moldy chip packets they had found. The hands were covered in leather and clothes that had melted into their skin, with flesh crevasses and desecrated cuts all over. The nails sharp and long in case of a fight or for use as a tool. The rest of the body was same, a walking corpse with body organs left on the external side of the body, ligaments deformed and flesh mixed up all over the body. It was the screwed up anatomy of a human.
A silver dagger flew through the air and penetrated the skull of stranded ghoul, one that had strayed too far from his family. He fell lifeless to the ground, and every ghoul was still unaware.
The ghouls proceeded forward to another room, scrunching on the chips loudly. There was barely any light in this room, with the scraping of diluted cloudy light refracting through the closed blinds. Only a few rays light displayed on the opposite wall, the ghouls proceeded with caution. There could be enemy ghouls or enemy species living the lack of brightness. Most of the monsters and threats were nocturnal.
The light flickered; a shadow flew past and disturbed the rays. The ghouls froze on the spot; only the suffering breaths of the respiratory system bulging on the backs of the ghouls could be heard. Wheezing and puffing loudly, making their hiding positions vulnerable to all hunters. The only thing that made them deadly was their appearance and their large numbers.
But what happens when one does not fear their appearance?
The darkness swirled nearby by and two metal blades appeared, the eyes remained hidden and only darkness moved forward. The ghouls couldn't see, they couldn't hear and they didn't know. Five of the ghouls were felled, with their body parts rumbling on the ground as they landed. The beasts were only beginning to realize they were being picked off, their numbers were thinning.
So what happens when someone, who relies on the strength of numbers, is left alone in the darkness?
They flee, to regroup or just run from the predator that stalks them. They leave, to find a better place or where darkness doesn't kill like this one does. Or they panic, in fear and chaos. They leave their remaining few seconds of life up to havoc, and watch in blindness the demise of all those they knew in the short span of mutated and struggling agony. They watch as the blade of the night stabs down into their exposed and bulging heads. Darkness leaves the building, leaving its mark of corpses in its wake. The others might feed on his killing; they might wander what manner of evil could kill so many. Darkness has left the building, but it never arrived in the first place. The shadows haunt the small massacre, the rage lies diminished in the bodies of the new demented human race.
The beach is littered with the debris of once gigantic vessels. The infected seaweed and dead fishes cover the stretches of vomit coloured sand. Oil spills contaminate the lagoons and sandy ponds. The corpses of crabs and birds float on the vile ocean surface. A rotting stench arises from the ocean water. The nearby trees are torn down and hollowed lifeless plants are scattered on the shores of the beach. In the distance the ravaged bodies of humans and animals are seen floating in the wreckage of a fleeing boat, over sized sharks feast on the drowned and the carrion birds devour the floating bodies.
A monument stands tall in the middle of a plaza, still standing despite the shattering of a civilization. A soldier stands heroically with the flag of a lost nation, words unintelligible lie carved below in the silver plating. Banners of protest and words of revoke are left littered on the stone paths of the once popular tourist destination. The ribbons of rebellion are scattered across the cobblestones of the landmark, the buildings surround it like dead watchers worn of age. War has brought this world to its demise, and war is human nature in the struggle of all life.
Nightfall has come to the city. He stalks around, as the dark one that all fear, like the imminent destruction of their race. A prey is chosen, and a prey is murdered under the rainbow of a murky black night. The streaks of silver blades are seen in the window of a once abundant house, the screams of a dying hound is heard later, the cry of a contaminated animal put to rest. The calls of the wolves are heard later, mourning the death of a comrade and the inevitable fear of their tormentor.
The humans struggle in the midst of all carnage. They wander stranded in the destruction of their city, slowly picked off for food by the hunters and monsters. Their only hope is the dark one, that he would protect them, and that once he has defended their life, would be merciful towards them. There had been rumors of the dark one murdering humans as well, even though most had been claimed as criminals or even infected by the radioactive waste. In the end, it was all up to chance who survived.
An isolated house stands in the centre of a street. One of the few to be left standing. A large withered tree stands tall, yet dying in a sick grey colour in the front. All other foliage had diminished away around the front garden, the fences had fallen down and the gravel had spread all over the street. Putrid radioactive dust fills the bed sheets, everything is coated in light grey particles, the fish tank had transformed into a harborage for gigantic mosses. The flickering lights are now dead, all energy and hope had been cut off. No light in the house of darkness.
Midnight and the zombies cry agony of a lost world. A slight breeze brings in the sheltering warm breeze; the beasts cower in the comfort, alienated from the soft feelings in life. The dark one clambers across the roof of a warehouse in ruins, he watches the moon above him in dismay. The sight of beauty in a world of ugliness. The beauty was so far out of reach, and should we reach it, we would only contaminate it and spread our plague onto more worlds. He stretches his arms; there is little sleep in a world of endless nightmares. The muscles tense, the power of a hundred armies is calmed and the night is left alone again. The cape waves and disappears along into the shadows.
He touches the dust covered bench with his gloved finger, and remembers a time when there used to be a person sitting here. Watching him and smiling gratefully. Past memories, past pains, there is no point dwelling on them.
Even if the past is the only thing he has left. Because there is no future in this nuclear Armageddon. There is only the waste and destruction. And fiends that spawned from our madness.
Moonlight is the only guide; the sun is on the other side of the world. And even when it is here, it is only a shadow of the past, clouded by the pollution of our deeds. The dawn slowly arrives, only the nocturnal creatures can sense its arrival. Everything else assumes the day is night, and the night is day. Only difference is the species that are active in the different time periods.
Nightfall carries a heavy burden. And the dawn shines it away. Only for the darkness to return at the end of all things. The sun is again perched in the sky like a black sun glooming down below over the denizens of a ruined world. The dark one disappears away from the glow of the unholy star, into the murky depths of the abyss he hides. Where time has no meaning, and where the images are sometimes even more real than reality. And he endures, with horror and courage. But he will stand to the end, even if he will fall into the spiral of insanity along the way. So young, yet so scarred.
And we know not the horrors of agony
Dead carcass impaled on barbed fence, bird corpse hanging from electrical lines. Scattered bones of a mammal fill the dust of something's front lawn. Rusted nails lie still deteriorating in the overgrown grass. And the bodies that haven't been consumed yet wreak the stench of the numerous dead. The dead piles overfill the landfills.
A scraped sign on the side of the road, displaying '2015: The End of the World'. A mutated rabbit scurries in the shade of the bent sign. Wild eyes cower in the protection of bushes, wary of the predators stalking it. Poisonous berries flower the bush and thorns spike out on the branches. The sun reflects off the shiny leaves and out onto the darkness of the woods.
The day cycle is once again, those left alive rejoice in the fragments of life left behind. So many days lost, and yet so few to come. Earth on the brink of extinction, and all because of its nature, its human nature. The dark one remembers it all; he was part of the downfall of humanity. Yet he tries not to mourn the losses, because there could have been no other way. In the end, it all would have happened the same way. In the end, the nature of humanity would bite back on its darkest hour.
Welcome to the brave new world, the world of the eternal nights and living nightmares. Welcome to the apocalypse of Earth.