Short story inspired by a game I played called Fragile Dreams: Farewell Ruins of the Moon |
It’s been a long time since I've had company. I don’t know how long it’s been like this. It’s dark here. It’s a void. There is no one else but me, the birds, and the spirits. I feel them. I feel their longing. Their loneliness. Their fear. Their hatred. You can only feel their sinister emotions; there are no kind spirits here. I am going through an abandoned dimly lit store in the late afternoon. I am scrounging for food. A light flickers. I hear a clattering in the back. “Hello?” I ask. My voice is full of fear, excitement, and curiosity. My hand is resting on my knife. It is shaking. There is no answer. “”Hello?” I ask once again. I am closer to the source of the sound now. My hand is holding the blade and is ready for any sudden movements. There is a quiet sound. A squeak of some sort. I cautiously look over. There is some kind of injured animal. It lets out another faint cry. With some hesitance, I approach it. It is a cat. It sees me and cries out again. Its fur is tangled and in bunches. It is caught in some kind of net. There are bite marks everywhere in its fur. I begin to murmur soft words to it as I approach it slowly. The cat is not listening to me, but looks off to the dark corner as it tries to wriggle itself free. I cut the cat loose and it runs behind me. It hisses at the dark corner. I can feel the air getting heavier and I feel a deep sense of dread in my chest. My heart is beating faster. From the dark corner, a rumbling growl can be heard. Two red hot coals appear. Upon closer inspection, the hot coals are eyes. A large black paw extends from the darkness. The claws are long and are as dark as the night. It is a spirit. The spirit growls again. The inside of its mouth glows like the fires from hell. I slowly start to back up; any sudden movements will be the death of me. The cat, however, doesn’t realize this and makes a run for it. The spirit roars and runs towards me. I scramble towards the front exit. As I run through the aisles, I reach into my bag and look for my flashlight. Because I am too busy looking for the flashlight in my bag, I slip and fall on my stomach. I gasp for breath. I am terrified. Where is my backpack? It is by the front entrance. The later afternoon light shines through the clear doors. The flashlight is a few feet in front of me. I begin to reach for it and turn to face where I came from. The spirit is directly a few feet before me. Its ears are flattened against its head. Its teeth are bared and liquid fire drips from its mouth. Time seems to stop as neither one of us move. We both look at each other, trying to see what the other will do. I begin to slowly back up towards the flashlight, but the spirit snarls at me. At this point, I either grab the flashlight, or I have the spirit rip me apart. I whisper my prayers and run for the flashlight. I can hear my heartbeat. It pounds like a drum. Out of my peripheral vision, I see it jump towards me. I grab the flashlight and shine it on the spirit as it lands on me. It howls in pain and I kick it right in front of the door where it will burn and die in the light if it does not move. I breathe a sigh of relief. I quickly pick up my things and grab what I need in the store before I dash out. Once outside, I take out a map that I have carefully drawn of this place. I find the store and make a note of the spirit there. Now that the sudden adrenaline rush is gone, I feel a sharp pain on my shoulder. I touch it and see blood. It is warm and wet. The color shines in the now dying afternoon light. I need to go back to my place; where I am safe from the spirits. After I’ve taken care of my wound, I start the fire and begin to prepare dinner. Today it will be canned tuna and a ration pack. The water is quieting boiling when I hear a noise. I look up and see that it’s the cat from before. Its eyes appear orange from the fire. It slowly approaches me and meows. Even though it is wary, it stands tall before me. The wet fur makes the cat look small and vulnerable. Suddenly, its ears shoot up. It smells something. I follow its eyes to see what it’s looking at. The tuna. I slowly put the can down and nudge it towards the cat. The cat slowly inches forward and tentatively licks the tuna. After a few more seconds of just licking, the cat begins to hungrily eat. When it finishes eating, it walks over to me and begins to purr. I let it sniff my hand and then I slowly pet it. The cat shivers and the hairs begin to stiffen and rise. Its back is arched and its ears are flat against its head. I talk to it softly to calm it down. As it begins to relax, I try to dress its wounds. After much scratching, cat yowling, and treat giving, the wounds were wrapped and treated. I stare at the fire for a few moments before I feel the cat rubbing itself against me. It is warm against my skin. A companion. I begin to mindlessly scratch its ears. “Will you be staying with me?” I whisper. The cat looks at me with its clear green eyes. It blinks before hopping onto my lap. It rests its front paws on my chest and licks my nose. The action startles me and all I do is laugh. The cat meows and then settles itself onto my lap. I continue to stare into the fire and rest my hand on the cat. It is not long before I fall asleep. It has been a long time since I’ve had someone to keep me company. When I wake up, the cat is gone. I go about my day. Things need to be done, supplies are running low that need to be replenished. I fill my bag with a day’s worth of food, a jacket, and a flashlight. I take a weapon with me in the slight chance that I need it. With everything settled, I leave for the day not knowing what to expect. I feel a little more hopeful; maybe I’ll find another companion today. It is dark before I finally see my home. It is cold. The wind is sharp and there is a light shower. However, today’s search was successful in the fact that my pack is full of supplies to last me a week. I reach the entrance of my home when I see a small wet mass in front of me. It hangs lifelessly in a grotesque shape. I shine my flashlight on it to discover it is the cat from the day before. I grimace; I know who did this. I cut the cat down and begin to dig a hole. I lay the cat to rest. My eyes sting. My face is wet. Is it from my tears or the rain? It doesn’t matter. I go inside and start a fire. My mind begins to wander as I stare at the wall. The fire is warm, but I feel cold no matter what I do. Outside, I can hear the eerie laughter of children. The laughter is filled with mockery and malicious intent. I know it is the spirits toying with me. They do not let me have what I want. I resent them. The spirits do not love me. I am utterly alone in this desolate, godforsaken place. |