《Regretless》|003| - Nothing to regret.
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The monotonous brooming of the engine came to a halt. An ever-expanding column of smoke rises from the radiator and from the gaps of the car's hood. The light making visible the path forwards fades with a loud click as the vehicle's battery is fried in a scorching barbecue.
The door opens slowly as I exit the dying transport. The heat from the outside makes a rough contrast with the dissipating artificial bubble created by the A/C. I grab the upper part of my suit from my hips and pull upwards, throwing it to the side of the road. At this point hanging around with rags won't please anyone.
The veil of darkness is such that I may as well be blind. Luckily for me, I managed to find a small flashlight in one of the car's compartments.
| Click |
The range of light didn't reach more than a few feet. Useless would be a good adjective to describe its actual purpose in the case of facing any serious menace, but it still seemed better than nothing.
Let's go.
I didn't look back at that car. I wasn't going to turn back, because I convinced myself that very moment that I wouldn't regret it.
I wouldn't regret unveiling the truth behind this apocalypse, nor would I regret finding out what really happened to my family. Whatever happened, that was it.
My eyes took their time to adapt to the lighting of the outside, not that they could do much anyways. The black background that acted as the sky remained unpierced by the stars that should be hanging above. The mountains on the horizon were the only mildly distinguishable feature on the terrain. Locating danger up to mid-far range was simply impossible, I would get crushed before I ever knew something was coming.
Fortunately, I still had my ears with me. Sound was the key to survival.
Hours pass quickly in the never-ending scenario of crawling my way through the sidewalk. My rhythm remains the same, the void remains the same, everything on the outside is stuck frozen in time but I.
Avoiding any complicated thoughts I walk next to the edge of a cliff in a fragile equilibrium. Not relaxed enough to fall, not agitated enough to think.
It's a weak facade, you'll soon realize.
I do not understand, do not want to understand, do not need to understand. I'm tired.
Like a tide. With each step forward my swollen knees and feet scream in suffocation. My fatigued condition was a clear sign that I should have probably gotten sleep back when I found myself in relative safety.
I can't go back though, so I'll just have to swallow the pain. My body sways to the sides, breaking off valance every few steps, as my mind snaps each time I relax too much.
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My eyelids feel much heavier. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad if I just slept for a whil---
"Ughm?"
A burning sensation spreads in my chest, I feel my legs lighter and my body floating.
"Wha-t in..."
Something is dripping, I look down. A pool of guts and blood are unevenly distributed through the floor, my own body lays away from me scattered in the pitch-black concrete. A single bulging claw impaling me through the chest, and that smile, those maniacally obsessed eyes gazing down at me.
"No wa-y."
How did he sneak up at me? I didn't even hear its approach? Is this how I'll die? Is this why I stopped that car? Did I trade away my life for two miserable steps?
My eyes shake in turmoil. Once again death was peeking through the window, its blurry face revealed ugly cracks in my will.
I closed my eyes and accepted my failure. When I opened them again, everything had already disappeared, the blood, the guts, the injury, the monster.
Gone.
None of it was real.
Several minutes pass in a hurry, my mind tries to make a sense of what just happened. My breathing should relax knowing I'm back to safety, I should find joy in the fact none of it was real, I was still alive. However, my heartbeat only accelerates in the fury of loss.
I can grasp the deeper meaning of that which just happened. The words he said become true, it's a weak facade, isn't it? A single fake defeat was enough to obliterate all resolution and motivation. All that remains is the same question.
Why not run away?
You haven't seen hell just yet.
Why not escape with your life? Why not give up? In fact, give up. Turn around. We need to find help, I'm sure if you give up and run you will--
"DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!"
I scream to the top of my lungs. My thoughts become clear for a couple of seconds but the chilling emptiness left behind is the perfect ground for breeding yet another nightmare.
Real or not, I can feel those chilling eyeballs watching me from somewhere my senses can't reach. Preying on my weaknesses, playing with me like the dumb walking corpse I already am. The void won't stop staring back.
|Clack|
I grit my teeth at the veil of dark stalking me in every direction. The decision to not bend pushes me forwards, I continue to advance.
The thirst for death can be easily quenched by the shadows, with just one step. Delivered from any direction, continuously. Each step is one meaningless end, a nightmare, a realization, and another step. The cycle repeats itself like an unwavering ancient mechanism.
You can not collapse here.
Anxiety? Tiredness? Madness?
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The difference between them all became abstract.
Minutes piled up under the torrent of sweat, and all attempts to rationalize pain ended in failure. I was scared shitless, I felt the worse I had been in my entire life. A tired, exhausted, confused, crazed, broken human.
Yet somehow, being as crapped as I was, I hadn't fallen back, not a single inch.
There was something within me. Some raw, primitive wiring deep in my mind I had never bothered to uncover before, and it wouldn't give the fuck up.
I had exactly nothing to lose, but a mission. I had something to win though.
"Back u-p!"
The plan drew itself on the board, it looked wild, ugly, and brutal. But it was simple, and simplicity was what I needed at that same moment.
Each movement from now onwards would mean a battle, a nightmare, an illusion, and facing something I didn't want to. Also, each step meant a small victory. An atomically minuscular victory, that would propel me forwards.
I've always known that like cockroaches, fears hide in the shadows, under the rocks, hidden from plain view. They are beings of treason, they will only rise against you at your weakest.
Fighting a product of my decaying thought process, a remnant of my collapsing sanity. The imaginary attacks continue raining down upon me.
Crushed by their bodies, eaten and chewed by their mouths, or crushed by their legs. Only when I relax my senses do they make an ambush. Lurking somewhere I can't sense, approaching silently, choosing the least expected option would be too predictable, it evades any pattern and focuses only on delivering a painful death.
Death enjoys splashing its grotesque art in bursts of black, and each step makes up for a fresh new canvas.
I, for once knew they were gone. As the creature's bloodshot eyeball glared ominously from the shadows, his smile disappeared under some other emotion. After what seemed like days on end of relentless death, I obtained my true victory.
Or have I?
The slight grin collapses over what lays before me. Nightmares are over, what I'm seeing is real.
| Clap |
My flashlight drops to the floor, its light flickering and dying a couple of seconds after. Too late though, I have already seen the unmoving body, now engraved in my pupils. There are no nice surprises in hell, and this was no exception.
Demons never run away...
Paralyzed. Looking at death straight in the eyes makes me unable to move an inch of my body.
For the next few minutes, I remain unmoving, I focus on my breathing in a lame attempt to calm me down. I reopen my eyes hesitantly, the episode of paranoia seems to be over. For now at least.
"I must keep going, right?"
I resume my walking, my legs shaking visibly. I make a detour around the mangled mess of flesh, but my eyes keep slipping back to that ever unmoving pile of skin and bones. I walk faster, clenching my jaw.
Running away again.
I halt. My eyes are on the asphalt, I do not want to look anywhere else.
It must be terrifying...
Sweat piles up in a pool under my feet.
Every second you look at death's eyes you can't help but think about the possibility that they too are gone. Still, I know it for a fact. There is no other way anymore. If you do not face that demon right behind your back...
I'm about to do something, even though I know I won't have the guts to do it.
You can keep running, hiding, and dodging, but no matter what, death will always come back.
My eyes shift to point in the direction of the carcass, its expression fully present in my view. There is no need for light, I can somehow perfectly see it. For some reason her eyes won't stop glaring down at me, judging my soul from the heavens or wherever she is now.
| Sgh-ghaah |
I open my mouth violently gasping for air, the tension made me forget to breathe. The smell of lingering decay embraced by my nostrils.
I kneel abruptly, my eyes glued to her body. Once young facial features became distorted and corrupted, those skeletal hands remain affixed on her ears, her mouth fully open, revealing her throat.
She died crying in agony.
For a slight moment, my eyes braze her reddish hair. With a blink, her face has been replaced by my sister's.
I impulsively fall back in horror, before realizing it's just another play of the mind.
Conquer this devil. Or bend your knees for eternity.
"I must..!"
A step nearer. Her white pupils remain unmoving, staring at me. Another one, and another one.
"IS THAT ALL!"
A spark grows into a blazing inferno, and with a last bloody cry, I dare stand before my fear.
You can't stab anyone from the back anymore. This demon is made of smoke, and once you look at its fuming cyan eyes, you, at last, understand the futility of its existence.
It can't hurt you. Not here at least, not right now. It will glance at you, hidden behind those white pupils, behind the layer of shadows.
With a puff of smoke, the illusion went back to sleep.
The reaper won't come to pay a visit unless he is given a reason to. Although, one day, it eventually will. And once it does...
"I hope I have nothing to regret by then."
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