The end of innocence
As the sun rose over the horizon, it became clear what had happened. The night seemed endless. Locked in the basement, I watched the asynchronous and intermittent flashes that preceded the rumblings mixed with loud thunder. Screams of terror from people I surely knew called for help, and I paralyzed with fear, debated between opening the door or staying cowering between my legs in the hope of not being found.
The sinister event caught us unawares under the force, rain, and winds that became hurricane force, as those things, horrible creatures, burst into the small town and unleashed panic at the grotesqueness of their actions.
At the time, I regretted staying home and antagonizing my mother in a fit of emancipation from her authority. I hope, now that I see the destruction and desolation, that my parents are well at the grandparents' house in the south of the country.
Seeing the roofs over the trees and half-collapsed buildings gave me the impression of being in the preamble of the end of the world. Fortunately, my parents' house, unusually, was intact. Maybe, by some omen hidden from my intelligence or by the cowardice of not opening the doors that give access to the basement, whose entrance is at the back of our house, when some neighbors were running around the courtyard fleeing from the tall and sickening beasts. The smell was so pungent; it almost made me vomit, even though I was more than ten feet below the surface.
Yes, the sun shines and warms everything in its path. But nothing around me evokes clarity. On the contrary, everything preludes the return of the darkness and the creatures that escaped from hell, who, in a storm, destroyed my world. I wonder, what stopped them? Or maybe they just left it for later; the day is not eternal, and soon, night will come. I see to the west the blackness of clouds approaching again. How many of us are left standing? The rest are gone. Still echoing in my memory, the terror and horror in screams of acquaintances and friends that vanished as soon as they happened.
Nothing helps, with no signal to communicate. I can only run away from here or go back to the basement and hope that the nightmare does not happen again and cease once and for all forever.
I don't know if I will survive when the sun sets over the horizon. I'm only one more among the thousands born here, with dreams and expectations, looking for a place in the world. Well, one that's ending without logical explanation! I never thought that fiction would become reality, much less that I would be the protagonist. Damn it, here they come for me!
The End
An original short story by @janaveda
Posted using Neoxian City
El miedo, el terror. ¿Qué tiene, que atrae como la luz a los insectos?
No sé, mi amigo. Pero sin duda, es un nicho que genera muchos dividendos a quienes lo explotan.
Considerando que entra en la categoría de ficción y fantasía. Nada perturbadoras realidades extraídas de la vida real que puede ser macabra en extremo. Me atrevo a sugerir, como fuente de ideas, la serie televisiva Supernatural, donde los hermanos Winchester (como los rifles) se van enfrentando a toda la variedad de monstruos y espectros imaginados hasta ahora.
E ir injertando cuál genetista, extraterrestres, con vampiros u hombres lobo, con vegetales zombis.
Una lista dividida en dos o tres columnas de protagonistas posibles y mezclados al azar. Iniciar el relato, a veces se enfrentan y otras son aliados contra los humanos vulgares.
Es una pena que este comentario no se pueda autodestruir cuando Usted lo lea.
Éxito.
Bueno, mi amigo. La ficción da para todo, incluso, para imaginar a agentes sobrenaturales. Aunque, si lo piensas bien, el relato encaja a la perfección en una crónica de una guerra entre puros humanos. No hace falta de monstruos grotescos que compitan con la perversidad de ciertos hombres. La historia así lo atestigua.
I do hope you will survive when the sun sets over the horizon. That was an interesting storyline. Thanks for participating 😇✅
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Hello, @nkemakonam89
On the contrary, thank you very much for being a source of inspiration with these initiatives. I am very pleased that it has been to your liking.
Greetings.
The terror of the night became apparent when the sun rose. Not assisting neighbours because you were paralysed with fear helped you momentarily - then it was your turn. Dream sometimes become reality and then we wonder how and why.
Posted using Neoxian City
Yes, fear paralyzes you, but sooner rather than later, one cannot escape fate, and you have to face it.