Trapped on this mountain…Will death come before the next sunrise?
From the open wound of a dying sky, the blood of sorrow and death rained, dripping slowly, falling far away from the corpse of a rotting paradise; splattering down on a dead world of fear and disorder, a world where the gods of man have long since, faded away into the dark grave of nothingness, leaving only the remnants of creation to rot inside the shadows of their own self made hell.
Alone in the darkness, only the unseen hands of the cold, suffocating lonely remained, only the grip of madness gave comfort to the tattered, old guard shack that shivered in freezing winds of isolation and abandonment. Alone at the foot of ruins, it cried out into the night.
William exhaled in anxiety.
Into the night, he quietly gazed, glaring into the dead unknown that lie in wait just beyond the false safety of the dust covered window. Beyond the vast expanse, something dark watched from the unseen corners, something terrifying and hungry; something that watched and waited. Tension seeped from every pore of his face.
As he sat, staring on in a calm panic, shadows of nothingness crawled into the small, dirty room, weeping in unheard horror; cowering behind him, as their hands grabbed tight, his shoulders; as if to escape from the thing that stalked them, even the ever dimming lights seemed to wail out in panic, as they beat against the glass. From somewhere outside, lonely cries of old machines echoed out, humming a song of fear in the face of the coming death.
Every mound of coal that lie abandoned, every truck that sat, long separated from a once, living soul; every shuttle car that once carried someone, now felt as though the sinister unseen were watching just beyond them; felt as though they, themselves were watching, waiting to let go, the hungry death, which would soon find its way to him, and eat him alive.
Though the dim, amber lights still burned, and the melancholy hum still sang out in the void, the mouth of the mountain opened wide, crying out in agony of isolation and reality of abandonment. Where once it was greeted by the strong and proud, and those who came to it for livelihood, now it sat alone; left to suffer in the darkness, and die at the hands of the savage and the diseased. Even the greatest creations of man will someday lie in ruins.
This place may be my only sanctuary…
Trapped from the chaos that devoured the world, deep in the belly of the mountain; no other life but his own, remained. When the day of demise has met the sons of rebellion, all that lies in the wake of disaster, is the long, cold night, which cries down upon cadavers of the dead.
I can’t stay here forever…but if I can hold out for a while, maybe I can live to see the sun…another day that I’m not one of them…that I still have my own.
From the faded comfort, of the old, worn out office chair, William slowly stood, taking his heavy, aluminum flash light as he rose, gripping tight in his hand, as he leaned over to turn on the battered, old radio, that rested by the window.
As he clipped his small two way radio to his belt, he sighed in slight anxiety. As though the rest of the world had died around him, the darkness seemed to close on him, wanting to keep in its grip, lusting after the very fear of the unknown, that he harbored inside.
Into the chasm, a crackled, terrified voice called out.
“Those recently infected by the plague, are considered extremely dangerous and may be prone to sudden, aggressive behavior…vicious attacks have been reported. we urge you to stay In your homes. Do not attempt to reach family or friends…Do not try to come in contact with anyone who may show signs of infection, as they have been reported to attack anyone they come in contact with. Do not attempt to take the law into your hands, please contact your local law enforcement…”
Damn…same thing playing over and over for days…is this truly our demise?
In the darkness, he stood; silent as he fought the rising fear that stirred within his mind. His job seemed to have kept him alive, yet in his thoughts, he wondered if it would be his death. Around him the world had fallen into oblivion, leaving only him alive to witness the death that had come, now he remained; trapped in the bowls of the mountains, far away from civilization.
His thoughts waged a battle between wanting to survive and the helplessness of that unseen demise. Would he be able to find his way out by morning? Would he remain in his sanctum till someone came? Or would he die a horrible, lonely death, in the face of his own of fears and weaknesses. William closed his eyes.
What am I going to do?
In the dark serenity of his own mind, it seemed as if he could find a safe place to hide; a place where he lock his fears away, and hide his sanity from an outside world that threatened to tear his soul into pieces; that threatened to drive him into the deepest hell of loneliness and torture.
What was that…
From somewhere in the distance, a clattering horror echoed out; shouting through the endless night; slamming against an unseen wall of misery as though to find anyone or anything that might offer a hand of hope. William gazed into dark.
As his eyes desperately tried to focus in the darkness, a cold, stale wind leaked through the open seams of the old building, wrapping around him tightly, as if to protect him from the dead, stiff hands of the rotting shadows that grabbed at his feet in complete horror. Calmly, he turned the flashlight on.
I better make sure nothing gets in here…
As he calmly walked from the small office room, each slow step felt as heavy as the dank air, which he was forced to breath. Each heart beat pounded against the wall of his chest, as a cold sweat slowly trickled down his slender, pale face. His lungs struggled to take in the dank air, which he was forced to breath. To the faded old door, he stepped.
Even in the midst of the unknown, there can sometimes be a morbid comfort in the darkness. What isn’t seen can sometimes be passed over, what remains out of touch and out of sight can be feared less even in the dark. In the calm of isolation, one can find certain comfort.
Where are you…
As he neared the rear of the building, a heavy hand of fear pushed down on him, as though to keep him from walking into the void. As the brown, dim light rolled off the dented, forgotten lockers, where once men of great stature stood, and crawled past the rotting remains of benches where they once sat, it flowed on into the ever after. Louder in the night, the banging became.
Come on you mother…
Harder his heart began to beat, pumping blood into his ears. Each step became louder; his sight became shaper. As the sound of flowing blood fought the sound of the chaotic noise in his ears, his hands trembled. No one knows what waits at the end of the unknown.
Out of the shadows of death, the rotting door bled, seeping through the darkness like a face rising from the depths of a black ocean, flailing against the rushing wind as it struggled in vain to free itself from the bonds which held it down. As though it wanted to run in fear of the night, it became more violent in its own panic. William looked away.
We’ve all become victims to our own fear.
Beyond the tortured doorway, a cold breeze writhed in agony, carrying with it, faint cries of pain and loneliness. Just one step beyond the chasm of darkness, an unknown gnashed its teeth on the suffering dead. Into the dark stepped.
This isn't even close to being finished, and is only a rough draft, but I'm needing some input before I continue on.
