Tattered remnants of a cape, futilely grasping at the wind. A rifle, and a pair
of knives. The last items in my possession.
It must have happened quickly. When I had returned from supply gathering the forests
had been swept clean and the mountain sides had been scaled. It caught the clouds
and soon raged across the sky, burning it down, causing everything to fall in.
The villages immolation was inevitable.
Under the great clouds of ash and smoke the colossus slunk away. A lazy sway of its
tail crumpled a once towering mountain. I sat there, watching that, and then
everything else burning, and burning.
The fire still burns. Days have passed.
The rifle has range, yet is heavy. The knives are more dangerous to use, yet they
are light. The knives come with. It’s a matter of catharsis. To break that hide,
to see the blood pool on the ground, to see the beast succumb right in front of
me. I need that.
Parts 2 and 3 coming soon-ish. Writings been a struggle lately so it’s nice to get something out.