Narcissa Stories Chapter 2: The Story of Narcissa

Continuation of Narcissa and the Burning Animal

Ragnarok. In Norse mythology, it was considered the apocalypse. I had thought at one point in time that the world I live in would last forever. But as fate would have it, it was not meant to be. In 3 short years since that inappropriate election, a series of unfortunate events eventually led to the world, dying as slowly as possible. War broke out around the world, the United States, ignorant towards the rest of the world, started desecrating the world and her beauty. Money is power, and with hard times on all, those ignorant political pricks would rather kill off the weak, so they can thrive. Pollution runs rampant, like locusts during the harvest. Water and food are scarce nowadays. Its obvious as to why that is. My name is Narcissa, and I am one of the few survivors of Ragnarok, or whatever its called.

 

            Before all this chaos began, my life was normal, and complete. I was one of the lucky few who had loving parents, and            decent finances within the middle class. I lived with my mom and dad and two older sisters. My dad, was always acting like a kid, despite his age. He was the scapegoat for what had happened with the world. He unknowingly helped start the world war, and the degradation, and eventual downfall of humanity. My mom, always caring and loveable, died around the same time. She killed herself in agony. Agony over her husband’s execution. My sisters, we were the best of friends, despite their misgivings. They were sold as slaves to some old man who wanted a good time. I watched them, secretly from the shadows. I saw what the men did to my sisters. They raped them, mutilated them, and tortured them until they were taken into the darkness, gone forever into the flames of Tartarus.

 

            My family, my friends, gone forever into the flames and violence of this f*****g wasteland. The frontier of old, has returned to claim more victims. And the worst part is…No one gives a flying f**k. Emotions are weak in this hell. They will get you killed, or even worse. My life now, is horrid, but I do the best I can in order just to survive.

 

            Since then, I have become a bounty hunter and an outlaw. Heh, not like there’s like any law in this place. This world I live in is nothing but frontier justice. Violence, power, and money rule over everything else. Man’s ignorance, has caused this future to happen, its unnatural, but there is no other choice then to survive.

 

            I killed some one today. A woman, whose roughed up and beaten body lied there in the street, until I shot her three times. I didn’t have any reason to. No motive. No nothing. Just an extreme dislike for this world. I left her corpse right there in the street. No one cared, slaves are slaves. Regardless of gender or ethnicity. These perverts and child molesters doing whatever the f**k they want, and the irregularly scheduled trains running over the corpses of failed experiments, hurried to a so called “recycling” facility. From what I know about that place, is that those corpses are reused as food and turned into water through dubious means.

            I am a nomad. I travel from place to place. I never stay long. Why you ask. The patrols. The government patrols everywhere. Nothing, is sacred. Privacy is nonexistent. The sophists have finally one out over rationality. Plato would be rolling over in his grave…if he even had one. No one will ever truly know about if Plato even was buried.

 

            I wandered, and wandered, through snow, and rain. Solar flares, and the toxic atmosphere, would sear off one’s flesh off, without a warning. I kept thinking back, upon my life. My youthful eagerness, and painful memories of my family’s deaths. At the hands of the monsters, that dwells within human skin.  Death has taken over, just about everywhere I have traversed.

           

            While wandering through, desolate city. Ruined by the monstrosity of mankind. I noticed something. Something on fire. Fire and violence goes hand in hand, but the hypnotic flickering flame, moving back and forth.