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This is about a man who is trying to escape the horrors of his past. |
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The Damned The man walked slowly down the empty street. The tattered rags of his clothes blew in ribbons about him in the wind, some stained with his blood, others with the dirt of travelling. He wore no shoes, and his feet were cut and bleeding in numerous places, leaving a trail of red to mark his passing. He didn’t notice it though; he was too absorbed by the darkness which had eaten away at his own soul. The town he walked through was desolate and lifeless. Many buildings had fallen down and the rest showed signs of serious weathering. All bore the signs of many years of disuse and negligence. Not that it mattered much. The man cared nothing for this town, or for any of the many others he’d passed through. All he cared about was trying to escape… to get away from that which cannot be run from. He knew that it was foolish to even try, but he had no other choice. It was either run, or be consumed. As he walked, he happened to glance to his left at a building. There, lying at the foot of it, was a little girl. Or, what had been a little girl. All that was left was bones. The only way he had of telling it’s gender was by the small, pink dress that the skeleton wore. The skull resting on top of the rest of the bones grinned at him from the dust, as if it was laughing at him: It’s no use. You will join us. Join us in the land of dust and ruin. You will rot with us. You can never be free. He didn’t know if the skull’s threat was correct or not. He only knew that he couldn’t go back. And he could never stop. If he did, the memories would come… those awful memories of what he had done, all the sins that he had committed. 'It’s a long walk back to Eden, sweety’ his mother had once told him. 'What', he thought wryly, 'would you say about me now, mom? Have I walked far enough yet?' Of course, his mother, who had been dead for many years now, did not answer his unspoken quary. The dead had, indeed, proven to be most unsocial. And so, the man walked. He walked, trying futiley to escape from the horrors of his past. He traveled far in search of some sort of atonement. He prayed to God each night, begging to be taken back into His gentle arms. But there is no forgiveness for the damned. |
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