CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
He was ready to come out of the desert. It had been fifteen years since he had fled. The rest had died, they had all died. Or so he'd assumed. He'd seen them melting, hadn't he? Or had he imagined that? Was that some nightmare he'd had in the days after he fled? No, it had been real. There had been meltings. Everyone had fallen to the ground, everyone but him. He hadn't understood why. He'd seen a melting and he'd ran. Who could blame him for that? He hadn't wanted to melt. Nobody would want to melt. He'd fled the city. He'd ignored the cries of pain and ran into the desert.
It hadn't been an easy life at first, but luckily he'd soon discovered that he was immortal now. He would have died long ago if not for that. He didn't need to eat. He wasn't sure if he even needed to sleep. He couldn't be hurt. He'd fallen down a pit and broken both his legs mere weeks after fleeing the city, yet somehow they had healed in hours and he was walking again. He hadn't starved despite going months at times without food. Yet when he found something he could eat, he'd still eat it. He liked eating. It was a human thing he could do. He was barely human anymore, so he had to cling on to what there was.
He hadn't liked people when he'd lived in the city but he missed them now. Not talking to them, not doing things with them, just looking at them. Girls. He used to like girls. He couldn't remember what they looked like now. Couldn't imagine a three dimensional girl in his head. He wanted to look at them again.
And more than anything, he wanted to find out what had happened. He hadn't died but everyone else had. Or...were there others like him? Maybe they'd stayed in the city. Maybe some were girls. Maybe he could look at them.
He laughed insanely as he saw the city again for the first time in many years. For the first few months it had been an outline in the distance, but he'd gone so far into the desert that it had evetually faded. Now he could see that outline again and it was still the same. All the same.
What if the people tried to talk to him? What would he say? What could he possibly say? He hadn't liked talking to people before he'd spent fifteen years in the desert, so what would he possibly be like now?
The city grew larger and larger. It still looked the same, yes, but there was something missing...the noise. It used to be so noisey. Now it was silent. He entered the silent city. There were no bodies. He'd imagined melting bodies on the street. That was stupid, of course, if they'd started melting fifteen years ago they'd be long gone by now. He kept walking all through the city and couldn't find any people. No one at all...
It had been so long and he hadn't tried to remember the layout of the city all those years, yet he could still find his way around. He was going home, he realised. All the way home...
He heard a noise. He span round. Someone was there. Standing there. Staring at him. Not like him. A girl. It was a girl. That was what girls looked like, he remebered. He opened his mouth to speak but forgot to form words.
"Who are you?" she asked. She was wearing a hood so he couldn't see her hair.
"Man," he said. Fuck, what was he doing?
"You're alive," she said. "Like us?"
"Us?" he asked. And then he saw it. Another man, stepping out of the shadows. He put his arm around the girl, as if to say she belonged to him. After fifteen years in the desert he'd come back to find the only girl already had a boyfried.
"Are you...are you like us?" she asked again. "Can you..."
"I'll find out," said the man, abruptly. The man had an axe. It felt sharp. His head came off.
"Guess he wasn't like us," said the girl, sadly. He could hear her but his body wasn't growing back. He was just a head now. Just a head on the ground.
"I should have stayed in the desert," he said, dying.
________________________
Charles Horse woke in bed after this, the most detailed dream he'd ever had. At first he believed himself to just be a head lying in the street, but then he noticed his body. Perhaps it had grown back eventually. But how had he got into bed? Had the girl put him there? No, this was...this was his bed. He was home. The desert was gone. He...they hadn't melted. It had been a dream. The fear was still all around him, but it would fade. He just had to lie in bed long enough to know it had been a dream.
He wondered if the dream had been a metaphor for his own life. He tried to remember all the details. The city had seemed so real. The desert he couldn't remember as well, but the feeling of being there for fifteen years was so fresh, so real. And that girl...and that man with the axe. He'd just sliced, he hadn't even thought about it. So cruel, so brutal.
And yet he missed that life so much. He wanted to go back to his desert. It was almost gone now. Even the city was fading. Even the girl, the axe. All fading...but...maybe if he got back to sleep in time he could go back.
He didn't get asleep again all night.
It hadn't been an easy life at first, but luckily he'd soon discovered that he was immortal now. He would have died long ago if not for that. He didn't need to eat. He wasn't sure if he even needed to sleep. He couldn't be hurt. He'd fallen down a pit and broken both his legs mere weeks after fleeing the city, yet somehow they had healed in hours and he was walking again. He hadn't starved despite going months at times without food. Yet when he found something he could eat, he'd still eat it. He liked eating. It was a human thing he could do. He was barely human anymore, so he had to cling on to what there was.
He hadn't liked people when he'd lived in the city but he missed them now. Not talking to them, not doing things with them, just looking at them. Girls. He used to like girls. He couldn't remember what they looked like now. Couldn't imagine a three dimensional girl in his head. He wanted to look at them again.
And more than anything, he wanted to find out what had happened. He hadn't died but everyone else had. Or...were there others like him? Maybe they'd stayed in the city. Maybe some were girls. Maybe he could look at them.
He laughed insanely as he saw the city again for the first time in many years. For the first few months it had been an outline in the distance, but he'd gone so far into the desert that it had evetually faded. Now he could see that outline again and it was still the same. All the same.
What if the people tried to talk to him? What would he say? What could he possibly say? He hadn't liked talking to people before he'd spent fifteen years in the desert, so what would he possibly be like now?
The city grew larger and larger. It still looked the same, yes, but there was something missing...the noise. It used to be so noisey. Now it was silent. He entered the silent city. There were no bodies. He'd imagined melting bodies on the street. That was stupid, of course, if they'd started melting fifteen years ago they'd be long gone by now. He kept walking all through the city and couldn't find any people. No one at all...
It had been so long and he hadn't tried to remember the layout of the city all those years, yet he could still find his way around. He was going home, he realised. All the way home...
He heard a noise. He span round. Someone was there. Standing there. Staring at him. Not like him. A girl. It was a girl. That was what girls looked like, he remebered. He opened his mouth to speak but forgot to form words.
"Who are you?" she asked. She was wearing a hood so he couldn't see her hair.
"Man," he said. Fuck, what was he doing?
"You're alive," she said. "Like us?"
"Us?" he asked. And then he saw it. Another man, stepping out of the shadows. He put his arm around the girl, as if to say she belonged to him. After fifteen years in the desert he'd come back to find the only girl already had a boyfried.
"Are you...are you like us?" she asked again. "Can you..."
"I'll find out," said the man, abruptly. The man had an axe. It felt sharp. His head came off.
"Guess he wasn't like us," said the girl, sadly. He could hear her but his body wasn't growing back. He was just a head now. Just a head on the ground.
"I should have stayed in the desert," he said, dying.
________________________
Charles Horse woke in bed after this, the most detailed dream he'd ever had. At first he believed himself to just be a head lying in the street, but then he noticed his body. Perhaps it had grown back eventually. But how had he got into bed? Had the girl put him there? No, this was...this was his bed. He was home. The desert was gone. He...they hadn't melted. It had been a dream. The fear was still all around him, but it would fade. He just had to lie in bed long enough to know it had been a dream.
He wondered if the dream had been a metaphor for his own life. He tried to remember all the details. The city had seemed so real. The desert he couldn't remember as well, but the feeling of being there for fifteen years was so fresh, so real. And that girl...and that man with the axe. He'd just sliced, he hadn't even thought about it. So cruel, so brutal.
And yet he missed that life so much. He wanted to go back to his desert. It was almost gone now. Even the city was fading. Even the girl, the axe. All fading...but...maybe if he got back to sleep in time he could go back.
He didn't get asleep again all night.