Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta downfall. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando las entradas con la etiqueta downfall. Mostrar todas las entradas

viernes, 15 de diciembre de 2017

Resistance and downfall

   When the dust settled, there was nothing to rally behind of, nothing to support us another day, not a rock or a person. There was nothing. When they blew it up, they destroyed everything we had believed in for so long. It was a strike deep in our hearts, resonating thousand of kilometers in every direction, where many others would also feel that hope had died and darkness had descended upon us to stay. We were in such disbelief, that they took advantage of our pain to come and destroy us.

 Those men and women were not the kind to take prisoners or to torture. They just killed every single person that tried anything against them and they had the best memory to ensure they would never forget how someone had wronged them. And that was what we had done. They had been the predominant power in the universe and we had tried to take them down, we had tried to stop them from making us penetrate into the abyss they wanted everyone to be in and they didn’t like us doing that.

 For a time, before all of this happened, we lived a life of relative peace and quiet. It would be a lie to day we all lived in harmony, because we didn’t. We just didn’t find interesting to disrupt someone else’s existence, unless it threatened our own. Our existence was not an easy one but we tried to make ends meet by using our wit and ability to cope with every single human thing that tried to tie our hands and prevents us from going forward. Maybe that’s how it started.

 At first, they were only a handful of people, but it started to grow exponentially when they made it into the media, into the information channels that every single intelligent creature used. You have to grant it to them: they used that in their best advantage and soon enough they rallied hundreds, then thousand of people in order to do what they wanted. It was one of those things you ignore at first but then they become so overwhelming and obvious, that you cannot just turn your head away.

 They started with fights and then with proper skirmishes. Now, we battle every so often with heavy artillery and our uniforms on, trying to change the tide one-way or the other. It has to be confessed that it doesn’t really seem to be working in anyone’s favor. We seemed to have stalled and it doesn’t seem like any of the sides knows where to look for the next step. However, with the destruction of our most sacred site, things will change in a new way, one that we haven’t yet seen and it’s very scary. Maybe they knew what to do all along and we were just pieces of a game.

 Being a prisoner is bad, of course, but we would prefer that option against the real one, the only one they give us: death. Facing that is not easy for all of us. Some have already decided they want to embrace it but others are too young or too afraid to actually walk into a battlefield and decide to die. So, when we were caught off guard by the destruction of our temple, they killed a big bunch of us but others ran towards the granite hills and hid there, moving through caves, trying to live another day.

 They eventually left, feeling there was no use in finding every single one of us to be killed. It’s obvious they realized that, without food, we wouldn’t be able to survive for long. And even if we did, such a small group of people had no power to overthrow the power hungry machine they had become. They were virtually unstoppable now and every other living being knew what they had to do in order to survive, and no other person could say anything about it, because we all wanted to keep living.

 The caves became our home and, as time passed, we were able to go outside and harvest foods we had never eaten before but we had to learn to enjoy them, for our sake. Many people had learned to grow other foods there and they also found water. In time, we had a small community that seemed to go unnoticed by the rest of existence. For a time, again, we were happy and we thought everything had gone back to what it was. We thought that, maybe, we had been given another chance.

 However, that was not the case. We were awaken one morning by the sounds of heavy artillery and then came the bombs. Our population was still small so two or three bombs easily killed most of our people. Those who weren’t killed, we tried to push them off for a while, in order to let others escape or maybe we thought someone was coming to the rescue, which didn’t make any sense at all. In time, they came through and the rest of our little group was almost completely destroyed.

 The only person that remained was I. Their leader in person came down to meet me and force me to bend the knee and sweat loyalty to him. He knew, very well, that it had been me who had started this whole thing; it had been my fault that so many brave men and women were now dead. It was my fault that our world had sunken into a deep darkness that would never go away. He knew how bad I felt about it all and he had come to make me say it out loud, not only to him but also to every other soldier on his side to hear. Because they had been on my side once.

 I did. I confessed my crimes and tried hard to redeem myself by asking forgiveness. But I didn’t ask him to forgive me; I did not ask that to his soldiers either. I was telling that to my people, to the ones that had been beside me for a long time and now they had paid with their lives. They had entrusted me with their faith and their lives and I hadn’t been able to correspond in any way, I had just grabbed their lives and used them as cards one uses in a cheap and lousy game of chance.

 As I cried, the man that had become the leader of the new world came to me, gave me his hand and carried me into his vessel. Inside, I was put on chains and treated like an animal, even worse. I was done and I wanted death to be forced upon me, but it seemed like he had finally realized that just death is not punishment enough. He wanted me to really need death, he wanted me to beg for it every single day of my life and he would be able to deny me that privilege.

 In time, I became something you cannot call a human anymore. I was much less than that. I was a shadow of everything mankind had ever amounted to. I just sat on my corner, in a dark cell, and thought about every single thing that had ever happened before my very eyes. There were happy moments but mostly fear and dread. I was haunted by the remains of the people I had failed to and the ones I had lead to their deaths. They blamed me and I could never disagree with them.

 I became increasingly weak and feeble, even to the point my mind started to go a little bit. The leader would come sometimes and watch me, ask me questions or just stare, as a disgusted costumer looks at a circus freak. He knew I wanted death and he would still deny it. There was something inside of him, something that remained from the past and seemed to be buried deep within him, some kind of grudge or maybe it was something completely different. I never really knew.

 Our vessel was destroyed one day, by armies that had been hiding and resisting the darkness that had befallen on the world. They had rallied, in silence, and their moment to attack had come in the exact moment I had been finally granted my death.


 I died anyway, but it was a different thing altogether. It was better. After all, it was them that needed to take revenge on me, after I had almost destroyed everything that they had tried to build. I had been the killer of their families and friends. So it was fair, in the end of the day, for them to kill me.

sábado, 15 de noviembre de 2014

The past never forgets

His eyes opened, not so much at once. The light was too strong, blinding him, making him feel sick. He vomited on the side and then, noticed he was on a chair and he was tied to it, by hands and legs. As he couldn't turn so good, he had vomit stains on his new trousers, the ones he had bought for his first days as general manager of the bank.

 - Awake? - said someone behind him.

A young boy appeared in front of him. He was using a hoodie and jeans. The boy grabbed a metallic folding chair that rested against the farthest wall. He opened the chair in front of the tied man, sat down and smiled at him.

 - How do you like it?

 His voice was soft, to the point of being annoying. Somehow, the guy in the chair knew he had heard the voice before but couldn't put all the thoughts together. He felt his head pounding and an urgent urge to vomit again. But he didn't.

 - Alex Winston. You even have the perfect name for what you are.

Then he felt it: something liquid sliding down his forehead and falling on his pants. It was blood. He started to breath fast, finally realizing he was in danger.

 - You sure are slow. I'm afraid that's what a baseball bat does.

He wanted to talk but couldn't. The boy smiled when he noticed these attempts. His mouth stretched so big. Or maybe he was imagining it? He closed his eyes but the pain remained.

 - Trying to remember? Take your time honey. Meanwhile, let me help you.

The boy stood up and the tied man trembled. The boy smiled again and walked past the man. He tried to gather all his strength to free himself but it was useless. His arms and legs felt like noodles and his head wasn't exactly up for the task of walking. The small amount of consciousness he had told him that maybe he had been drugged too.

The boy came back with a cellphone on one hand and the bat in the other, drag it on the floor. The guy in the chair then trembled again and found it difficult to breath.

 - So, Alex... You're 32, right? General manager of the FN Bank... Sweet, huh?

The man stood still and only breathed heavily.

 - What? Something to say before I begin?

But Alex said nothing. His body couldn't help him do nothing.

 - Ok then. Let's start. You're a naughty boy, aren't you? You like boys and girls, metrosexual, a player. But do you remember? Do you have the capacity to feel? Both really great questions.

He then got near and Alex shivered. The boy laughed out loud. He raised the cellphone on his hand and showed the displayed image to Alex. It was the picture of a girl, maybe twenty years old.

 - Remember her, Alex? Do you ?

Alex didn't remembered. And his attacker saw that on his face: he punched him in the stomach so hard, he started vomiting again.

 - While you do that... - He browsed to more pictures. - ... do you know him?

He grabbed Alex by the ear and made him watch: the picture was now even more grim. It was the one of a dead boy, probably the age of the mad young men that held him there. But Alex did not remember.

 - You fucking piece of shit.

Alex thought he was going to be hit again but, instead, the boy went back to his seat. His way of moving, his expressions, everything about that guy was disturbing.

 - I have three others but first I want you to speak. Tell me your father's name. Now.

He had to gather all his energy. It wasn't much. But he managed to say one thing: "Robert". The boy was evidently pleased. He stood up and got near the chair. Alex shivered again but the guy only grabbed something from below the chair: a bottle filled with water. He opened and told Alex to be still: he poured some liquid into his mouth and watched as he drank.

The water made him feel better but, suddenly, memories came rushing to his head and, in return, the headache was bigger.

 - "Always watch behind you". Isn't that a great lesson? I sure learned it.

He watched Alex to the eyes and Alex new he had to do the same, or he would stand no chance. The guy smiled again but this time hatred could be felt, as if it had a temperature, a very low one.

 - Water makes miracles... Now, do you remember them? Or... do you remember me?

Yes. He did. But when he realized who the boy was, they both kept silent as, in the distance, sirens could be heard.

 - Well, that's my cue to get the fuck out. And please, never forget my face.

He stood up and left the cellphone on the chair. He then walk towards Alex and kissed him in the mouth. He didn't close his eyes as he did it. It only lasted a few seconds. After that, the boy disappeared behind him.

As he felt a bit stronger, he began trying to release himself and only managed to burn his wrists. Then, just minutes after his captor had left, a team of policeman and special forces agents stormed the building he was in.

The first they did was take the phone from the seat. They only released him from the ropes when they had checked what it apparently contained.

He told them he didn't remembered anything and that the guy that had kept him there, a young man, had hit him with a bat and punched him too.

 - You could catch him. He left only minutes ago.

Then, a police woman entered the premises. As she checked the cellphone, she asked for Alex's father and apparently browsed through images and documents. She finally looked at Alex and walked to him.

 - I'm Sheriff Janice Jones. It is my duty to inform you that were putting you under arrest for the rape  and murder of, at least, four people.

Alex didn't hear the rest. He was being handcuffed when he realized what was on the cellphone. It was the one thing he had dreaded for years and that guy, that young man...

They had met years ago in a party and bonded over drinks. He was an innocent, idealist guy. But Alex wasn't. And he did what he had always done and that was his downfall.