Rage Against The Dying Of The Light

The world has slipped into an endless darkness as the sun refuses to rise. A thick fog blankets densely forested areas, only thinning on open plains and near the ocean. However, where there should be gloom, there is, instead, light. The gray that clings to everything and obscures shapes is lit by the glow of mushrooms and crystals. Their ethereal light brightens the otherwise dark mist, throwing shadows to menacingly dance around the sick and dying creatures. A strange illness has spread across this land, sparing few and leaving dead creatures in its wake.

Through the darkness and the mist, across the southern lands of Auster, a wraith wanders the world. The gray girl appears more dead than alive as Fern makes her way through the world. She cannot see her body and that is small mercy. The ooze that runs in rivulets down her face mar her features giving her a grotesque appearance. Bites marks on the left side of her face appear inflamed and angry. Blood no long weeps from the open wounds instead replaced by the bright ooze.

Along her body, random patches of fur have thinned, leaving the skin exposed. Some of these patches have formed boils, causing the skin to stretch tightly over round, bulging sacs of ooze. In other spots, the skin has disappeared completely, leaving open wounds with reddened edges and thick puss-like ooze leaking steady out. Fern doesn’t know why her body hurts so much or even what is happening to her; all she knows is the constant blanket of pain that is punctuated by sharp, white hot spears of agony.

A haze has settled over her mind as the sickness causes her memory to fade. Time no longer makes sense as the landscape can shift completely in the blink of an eye. Sometimes she wonders if she is dead, a ghost cursed to wander this strange place forever. The thought is quickly dispelled when she inhales, causing pain to spark and ignite fires throughout her body. Sluggishly, her mind tries to understand what is happening but there is nothing. Confusion is her constant companion as she walks.

There are times when faces swim up through the murky waters of her memory, materializing in front her. There are two that visit her the most. When an earthen hued female wolf with eyes that sparkle an emerald green. Anger always accompanies that wolf as Fern resists the urge to lash out at the memory. Her jaws always snap closed around air and only aggravates her own injuries. Occasionally, Fern becomes of the fact that the earthen hued wolf is walking close by her slow-moving form. Hate flares and the wolf disappears, leaving Fern alone.

The other face that visits her is gray male wolf. His face always starts with a smile. Kind golden eyes look at her with laughter and happiness. Words float up from the ether to dance inside her mind, promising her adventures and fun. Fern’s heart skips a beat when he appears, a deep sense of longing grips her and an overwhelming urge to find him takes hold. Inevitably, his face morphs, twisting his features with fear and anger. He lunges toward her face and causing the sick wolf to flinch and turn her head.

Pain then blossoms along the left side of her face as she feels teeth sink through the soft flesh of her face causing Fern to slam her eyes shut and cry out in pain. When she dares to open her eyes, the wolf is gone but the burning in her cheek remains. Eventually, a paw finds its way to her cheek, coming away slick with the bright blue ooze. The scene has played out many times before and will continue as the clouds in her brain cover the past and obscure the present.

Chest heaves and shutters, alerting Fern to the fact is becoming more difficult to breathe. It now takes an enormous amount of effort to force air in and out of her lungs. Each glowing, mist filled exhalation is slowly sapping all her energy. The ooze that runs freely from nose drips into her open mouth, slides down her throat and into her lungs. Or maybe it is the ooze that coats her gums and pools in mouth that does it. Either way, Fern is aware that the ooze is slowly filling her lungs, drowning her in the vicious substance.

Ooze pools in her ears, clogging her hearing. An unspecified sense of unease fills Fern when she sees dying animals with their mouths open, screaming in pain yet no sound reaches her. The forest is filled with dead and dying animals that the gray girl slowly walks by. Each story is similar, their eyes leak ooze and tears at the pain this illness is causing them. In a different place, at a different time, Fern would have stopped to try and give them some form of comfort and ease their passing. However, death is constant now and Fern can only think of surviving from one moment to the next.

As Fern wanders, she watches the shadows. They jump and move, and she swears there are figures moving out there just beyond the edge of her vision. Something is watching her, a dark presence that hounds her every step. The creature is around every corner, behind every tree and rock. Paranoia has consumed her as she tries to outrun the phantom being that chases her.  Fern continues to walk because she cannot stop; if she stops, it will catch her. If she sleeps it will consume her. The creatures now work for it, she must isolate herself and find a place where it cannot see her.

Fern continues to walk.

A wave of dizziness overcomes the gray wolf as time warps and her vision blurs. Aqua eyes blink open trying to sharpen the blurry shapes. When the world refocuses, her eyes take in a familiar castle in the distance. An indefinable sense of belonging hangs here as the open plains beckoning her toward the warm, inviting lights of the castle. Sorrow wells inside her and she closes her eyes, shaking her skull to try and rid herself of the bothersome thoughts that always seem to appear when she sees this place. Tears leak out of her eyes and mix with the ooze, trailing down her cheeks and dripping onto the ground.

When she opens them again, she is once more walking. Sore paws pull her ever onward, toward an unknown future. She doesn’t know when it happened but the tender pads of her paws have cracked open and leave bloody, glowing prints behind. A trail of gore and sickness winds its way through the stone pillars. Each painful breath drives her onward, a need to find a cure overriding everything. She needs to get better so she can go on adventures with… Fern tries to pull up the name but her memory will not produce it. Anger flares as she spies the earthen hued female as Fern knows that woman stole the name. She has to get it back. Lips pull back, revealing ooze coated teeth as she lunges toward the wolf.

The world dissolves, time shifts and Fern becomes aware that she is standing on a white sandy beach. Dizziness overwhelms her, driving the gray girl to her knees as questions crowd her mind and over take her. When she is able to once more stand, Fern’s eyes dart around, trying to figure out where she is. The mist is thin here, offering a brilliant view of the night sky. The silver moon casts its beams open the beach, bathing Fern and the sand with its light. Colors weave their way across the backdrop of the darkness. Greens and blues create vivid ribbons across the bright starry sky.

Fern stares up in wonder even as her chest constricts causing her to she cough deeply. The rattling, wheezy breath that follows seems unnatural and Fern wonders if she is dying. She is so tired; tired of walking, of hurting, of not understanding what is happening, of… everything. Sitting heavily on the ground, Fern lowers her head to cough up a thick, blood coated glob of ooze. When she is done, her gray head tilts back to once more look at the sky. Inhaling deeply, Fern shouts breathlessly, “Why is this happening?” Her voice echoes in her clogged ears as tears mix with the ooze.

The next time she speaks, her voice is slow and halting as she gathers enough breath to force out each word, “Please, I can’t die. I have so much I need to do.” The gray male wolf’s face once more floats into view as she adds, “There is so much I want to do. Please... his can’t be the end for me.” Everything blurs as the tears fall heavily now. With one last strong pull of air, Fern howls in sadness, “I don’t want to die!” Her pitiful voice rings inside her own ears as she sinks into the soft white sand and allows the tears to fall unhindered.



Final Word Count: 1518

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