Dying Embers

A story of the end of the universe. The mankind failing to save what was once all thiers.

This isn't where he wanted to be. With his kaki pants splattered with mudd and his fine jacket stained with unceasing rain. But it had to be done. The world would be unforgiving if he didn't go on. If he decided to stay back, his name would be hissed when said, his face spat upon when shown. But also...he would never forgive himself.

He was the one. And thousands upon thousands of faces he could not see, were staring at his own beaten and broken profile, hanging on his every movement, wincing at his every fall and cheering at his every step. He was to make it to the mountain, even if it brought his own death.

He could hear the faint buzz of the floating cameras, fighting the storm as he himself was, hovering above and keeping with him for the sake of the eyes laid upon him. He could sense thier watchful eyes through that buzzing and forced himself to not hate the cameras...hate the people that drooled over his pain and perseverance. He knew they were helpless, mindless beings with nothing but bone, skin and an organ heart to hang on to life with. That was why he was doing this after all...right?

The young man dragged his  foot out of the mud, the sucking sound muffled by the pouring rain. Droplets clung to his eyelashes as he clasped to the rocks that prodtruded from the wasted filled land. For miles upon miles in ever direction lay mud and rock, nothing else. The acid tears that fell from the sky tortured him in irony as his tongue lay dry in his scorched mouth. His skin sizzled under the poison and his bones cried out in pure desperation as his body fought the raging horror of the experience.

Every inch of his body and soul told him to cease this maddening journey, to lie down and let the earth devour him. But he knew, for the sake of all and himself, he could not stop.

Days past and the man did not stop, each step becoming more of an agony than the last. He could close his eyes, and the same images with fill his mind. Mud...and rock. Roaring rivers of acid brown liquid rushing down upon him as he struggled to stay tall.

Through the days the buzzing had decreased, till only a faint vibration could be heard through the rain. But this did not stop the man either, it did not even cause him thoughts of quitting when he knew less and less people were watching him... For that more and more people were depending on him.

More days past and finally the mud began to lower, the rocks began to grow. A deep grumbling began to replace the sound of beating acid as the ground grew small shrubs that could survive the venum.

Soon the rain ceased, but the sound of his pounding was always ringing in his ears. His battered and nearly bare body could feel the soft tingling of feeling returning as the grass brushed against his black and bloody skin. Trees began to sprout from the drying mud and vines twisted thier snaky bodies through the maze they created. Leaves crunched beneath what was left of his feet as soft flowers and branches brushed against his limp arms and torn skin. Sun soon broke the clouds and clasped his face with unforgiving heat, licking his unseeing eyes and soundless mouth.

More days past, all the same with the growling in the earth and his feet moving forward as the only progression. Soon, through the otherwise silence the rumbling began to deafen his ears. It protruded into his mind and dulled his mind like a gag would muffle a child's screams for help.

He had lost ability to hear the buzzing, but he imagined one soul source still above him as he trudged on.

Possibly thought the rest of the world had forgotten about him...given up hope in the young painter that had volunteered to save the universe and all life in it.

The young man, for the first time in the month he had been walking, began to think. Before he had purposefully emptied his mind to only one thought. Move on. But now...as all other senses were torn from his body till everything about him was useless...he began to think.

He had volunteered of course, because he had nothing to lose. No one, in his planet..the universe had cared about him. No one would miss him if he disapeared...no one had ever loved him.

But maybe now...maybe know that he had sacrificed all his body and life for the sake of life...maybe someone would. But also maybe they would just forget about him after he had done the job. He may be listed in a few history books, or told at midnight stories, but no one would ever feel something for him. They would feel him once, like a burst of wind, then forget him as he passed.

He pushed on now, trying to throw those thoughts from his mind. But they kept coming back. With these thoughts came pain and emotion again. His heart was screaming in agony as his skin screeched in harmony, blistering at every  movement.

His acid ruined face blundered blindlessly through the thickening forests as the grumbling of the earth shook his mind.

He stumbled now, barely able to stand as his stomach fought the hunger, and his throut battle the thirst. His mind brought dillusions of the world around him. Faces, animals, light and dark that wasn't there.

Why? He screamed in his mind. Why? Why did I do this? What do I want? Why am I...here?

More days past until the man was barely crawling, his feet long lost from his body and his hands now stubs of black scars. His skin flaked from the protruding bones and his eyes leaked black and red liquids.

Finally, he could move no more. Collapsing, he rest his face on the ground, feeling no comfort of the coolness against his ashy skin.

He cried out, his last burst of energy breaking through to the last source of buzzing. He had failed them...he had not made it. He had...

The man stopped thinking and opened what was left of his eyes. There...before him...although muddled with the yellow tint of his sight, was the stone. The once great and radiating stone sat dull and colorless in front of him.

He stared, for hours...maybe longer at the stone. In it he saw himself...defeated, broken...nothing left and nothing to lose.

Slowly, he brought himself to the stone and laid his hand on it. He almost passed out at what he saw of his hand. Ash covered flesh with bone barely inside...

The first color that took the stone was scarlet, from his own blood. Then black from the poisoned skin that fell upon it. Then, in a radiant burst of energy and released passion the stone exploded in an extravagent blue.

The color raced through his own body before bursting out of him and into the surrounding world. It soared into the atmosphere and broke free, skimming through space and bursting through to all of the planets and stars.

The energy coursed through every living thing, filling it with extreme power and reguvinating spirit...

Then the energy disapeared, the stone devouring it all back in itself.

The man's face fell in dismay and horror at the glowing stone. What had he done? Why...why...why didn't it work? Were his intentions not pure? Was it not enough to want to save all of life from destrution of death?

The man fell back, his hand crumbling in front of his own eyes. He threw back his head and screamed with all of the life left in him, as his body disinigrated and blew back in the giant wind.

Rushing lava fell down upon him as the grumbling errupted into a giant explosion. His body, dying embers of all that was once alive, was nothing in the rushing river of death.

His spirit too exploded and disapeared, forever gone and destroyed.

The man had failed. Life had lost. Death had won.

The universe had ended.

Author's Note

Just kind of came out. Hope you enjoyed.

Reviews

[Roger Morrison]

Wow. I wasn't sure where this one was gonna go, and the predictions I'd formed half way through proved to be WAY off. A very disturbing (not to mention depressing) piece here. Some great descriptive writing, which is in most cases beautiful and adds to the harrowing tone, but in some drags it down a little bit. Not that I'm one to talk, knowing that I have the same problem. Only a few grammatical errors, which in no way takes away from the feel of the story. It's a simple idea, bordering but never quite touching on cliche, and in just the right amount. It's very powerful. I could feel the pain and anguish both in reading the descriptions, and in the knowledge that I too have experienced the temptation to just quit, and the overwhelming burden of knowing that I must continue. You have the feelings down very well in your writing. The images towards the end made me uneasy, and I found them to be utterly nightmarish. The ending was melancholy, what with the quick flash of hope, and then the cold realization that it was false. The symbolism behind the hero understanding his failure, realizing all his effort was in vain, and then turning into literal dust is profound. Even though his intentions were good, it was all for nothing, and he questions the very universe he'd try to save. I found this to be an extremely dark social commentary, and I really enjoyed your ideas and descriptions in this work. Great job!