Chapter Text
It takes a long time to build a life.
Its social circles, work, personal health and bad habits that develop over years. It takes a lifetime to build all of that, to carefully and precisely manage the building blocks of life until you create something worthwhile, something you can look at and say; “I did a pretty good job with that I had.”
With all the time and energy that we spend on ourselves, building our own little towers of life and living in our pretty bubbles of seclusion; It becomes utterly tragic when you see just how little it takes for it all to come crumbling down, deteriorating into dust and in return, leaving nothing but scattering particles and a feeling of being utterly lost in this big world; so foreign and so different from the life we built in our secluded safe space, utterly terrifying. The apocalypse had come, but it did not burn the world to a crisp, it did not end in flames or ice, instead it came creeping, it came in silence. Screams drowning in the woods, nails scraping desperately against the wooden floor, bloody trails coating the entrance to the forest with a morbid red, disappearing into the shadows with dark hides, it all goes unnoticed.
This is how the world ends, not in fire, not in ice, but in darkness.
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Just a week ago I was doing chores on autopilot, scrubbing dry bits of food off of the kids table, chatting with some old customers about the exciting news which arrived that morning. It had been exciting news not only for our little café but also for our little town, which existence had remained otherwise uninteresting and bland to the outside world.
I open the cartridge one more time as though it will change if I do, it does not. One magazine left, that is my lifeline, it hangs upon the ledge of 18 bullets and a hunting knife. The sweat beads on my brow.
It had been an unknown object, it crashed in a forest, just a couple of miles away from my own apartment, it didn’t even wake me when it hit.
Then there were the bodies, the bodies with faces that had plastered the missing posters across town, mauled almost beyond recognition. Their remains were strewn across the forest floor, innards draped across the branches of the pines like some kind of fucked up birthday décor. The rangers had blamed it all on the local wildlife, “Must be cougars” they had said, with utmost conviction of their own expertise. And so all we got was a warning, we would stay out of the woods, and things would be fine. And they were, atleast until people started going missing inside the towns walls.
As far as i know, a cougar wouldn't have the strenght to burst through a window and rip a man in half.
The panic settled in then, for real this time, covering the town in a slow steady dread, but still nobody would listen, the people on the outside called us crazy. "Must have been a bear"
Absolute bullshit. All of it.
I finally manage to load the gun with a shaky breath, my hands are clammy and I wipe them on my jeans, i turn to face the empty street behind me, the space where my friends once stood, I miss them already. I thought i'd be ready when the time came, but here i stand sweating in front of the inconspicuous hospital doors like a frightened mouse, but it is too late to turn back, there will be no boat waiting for me at the shore. It's just me, my bravery and this weapon now.
And so, here I stand as tall as I can with as much bravery as I must have, as the little mouse at of the gates of the lion's den.
My facade slips for a second and a icy shiver makes it's spiteful way down my spine.
A dark snarl rumbles through the ground up my chest, but it is not my own. It comes from up high, perhaps two feet taller than myself. The sound is evidently out of this world, non-human and unknown, it's harsh and baritone and it should scare me, but it does not. Instead It gives me courage, it encourages me and ignites my head with incomprehensible whispers that I have yet to understand, these whispers tell me that I have to fight, that I am strong, perhaps not as strong as my companion, or our enemy, but strong nonetheless.
I clench my hand around the gun, not in fear this time, but in a sudden rush of boldness, My eyes lay steady upon the cave opening that suddenly seems a lot smaller. I take a step and just like cogs in a machinery we are all moving, breaking past the icy barrier of fear, and treading with purpose, our steps slightly lighter than before. I walk with the strong warrior at my side, tense like a coiled spring and radiating a fierceness that mirrors my own. The ancient weapon on my back vibrates with it's calling, it knows its purpose, All i have to do is weild it.
The adrenaline of the hunt burns in my veins I come to a decision; Tonight I will step into the hunting grounds, but not as the meek little mouse.
Tonight I am a huntress, a warrior.
Tonight I am the tiger.