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27 November 2014 @ 08:27 pm
[Original Story] [One Shot] If I fall behind, keep going  
Writeworld Sentence Block: *If I fall behind, keep going*
Original Story - One Shot
Prompt from: http://writeworld.org/

Just a ten minute or so muse after I saw a sentence block in writeworld. Prompts are evil, they distract you from your work because their words are just enticing.

There were only the sound of footsteps and occasional whisper of the wind. The ground scorched and smoking, a pair of leather boots stepping on dirt and stones and bones. Bones and sand and dirt and stones. Dull scenery was the only thing can be seen on the ground. Angry amber particles lit up the sky, shards of the fallen starships still floating on the atmosphere like the stars they so chased in the past. They were mere rubbish now, nothing more than a sad fragment of the grandeur of power that consumed the world. War soon doomed them the end of everything.

It was ironic how the wisp of the world's shield kept the starships floated up above. It was ironic how the very world they destroyed refused to let their fragment down to the ground they scorched.

'Don't touch me,' the world say. If only the world say that sooner, it wouldn't have to end like this.

Shouldering an unloaded sniper gun on her shoulder, a mercenary in her mid-twenty walked in slow steps across the barren battlefield. Army cap rested on her head, the brim cast shadow that hide her eyes from the dim light of the above. One would't know she was female if only her figure didn't show it as her hair was shaved clean, battle scars coloring her skull and face. It was clear there were more wounds than what meets the eye as her steps slowed, her strength weakening.

Behind her was a timid looking little girl, her black cape long and ragged, its end brushing the dirt as she made her way following the mercenary. Her tiny hands pulled her cape close to her body to hide the simple white dress she wore. The white stood out. Light stood out like sore thumb in darkness.

She ran closer to the mercenary, bare feet stepping on bones that cracked. She grimaced. Bones were none of her concern though, bones were like accessory that latched to every corner of the world ever since the War happen. The heat of the ground, however, was rather unpleasant on her bare feet. Despite having walking barefooted all her life, she could never get used to how the world showed its anger in the form of heat. It felt like stepping on fury. It felt like the world is telling her its pain.

Having to walk on anger all your life had never been a pleasant story to tell anyone.

She fell into steps with the mercenary, still silent in their walk. They got out  of everything not without scar. The mercenary harbor her own scars and wounds and so did the little girl. They took the full brunt of the world's anger to their face and it was enough to break and bend just about anyone. The girl, with her long history of hearing the whisper of the world's fury. The mercenary, with her burn and open wounds, with the story of thousands of men that died for a desire not of their own. They were not the most common duo found in the whole universe but they had their share of past. They had their share of reasons on why they stick together.

The wind got stronger and whispers began to rise. Echoes started to come out in the form of murmurs but then it got louder, clearer: it turned into a barrage of screams.

The world screamed. The ground started to shake. The sound of bones hitting clacked as if joining the dirge the Echoes started.

The world now was molten fury and drowning screams and it didn't seem it would be appeased soon.

The duo walked unaffected. Not quite unaffected as they hoped, since slowly they hastened their steps. The screams got louder. Echoes would soon find them. The screams would soon be directed at them. The fury would soon try to consume them.

Greed and gluttony were what driven the war and it was exactly what the world replied human with.

The second layer of Echoes began. The little girl could almost feel how whispers touched her as they brushed past. They too, she knew, would turn into screams. Her feet felt it, the ground was crying.

I am sorry.

She walked the path of human's remorse and regret. She had to bring human's apology etched in her very soul to tell the world that yes, they regret everything, yes, they were sorry, yes, they asked for forgiveness. So please stop crying. Stop screaming. Stop being the human you despise.

I hear you, I am sorry.

"If I fall behind, keep going."

The mercenary rarely talked. When she did, usually everything was wrong. There might not be a single right thing in the world but there are things even more wrong than the already wrong.

Holding her sob, the girl kept her walk. One step at a time, one step at a time, one step at a time, take a deep breath and walk one step at a time, one step at a time. It was almost like a mantra, an incantation, a silent wish that the whispers would just brush past her.

Her.

Alone.

Because she knew the one that hushed the world's scream to whisper just now was the mercenary.

Dragging her barefoot over the barren land, the little girl continued her painful walk, away from human bones clad in mercenary suit, with an unloaded sniper gun strapped by the shoulder, an army cap resting on white exposed skull.
END-------------------------------------------

 
 
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