The First Night

Darkness, so close, so tight, he could not breath. He could barely move. His entire body was weighed down, something impossibly heavy pushing on every inch of his body. He opened his mouth to scream and the darkness pressed between his teeth, tickling the back of his throat.

Panic, fear, and for some strange reason, hunger pushed him to fight the darkness. He struck out, moving his arms beyond the weight and his fingers touched emptiness. A new feeling drove him, hope propelled him further than his muscles could.




He looked down at the darkness that had held him moments before to find it was something more mundane. Dirt, loose, muddy earth had been piled atop him. He spit the grit out of his mouth and brushed it off his head and chest. Placing his hands on the more solid ground around his plot he was able to leverage himself to stand. Now that he was completely out of the darkness  he could see that it truly was. A shallow grave.

Sickness struck him and he discovered that there had been more dirt in his mouth. The pain in his stomach doubled him over and he vomited more, pushing dirt and grime out more than whatever was left of his last meal.

The hunger was back, stronger now. Driving, growling, primal hunger and it did not listen to logic or care where he was all it wanted was to feed. His head spun, his body ached, and the hunger would not stop.

Looking up he could see the stars through the tree branches but nothing looked familiar. He was not one to note the stars more than a passing glance and without a compass or some sort of landmark he was lost. Completely and utterly lost.

In that moment and that thought, everything hit him. The hunger, the panic, and the nagging fear that was now thundering in his ears. He had no idea where he was or why he was there.

Dropping to his knees he squeezed his eyes shut and willed something to make sense. A memory, a thought, and he desperately wished this was all just some bad practical joke. Forcing air through his nose and out his mouth the panic began to lessen. Not by much but enough to get his mind working again. When he opened his eyes he could see that his shallow grave was not the first to be dug out here but it was the latest. Before he could think the question he knew that there were five other graves, they all held bodies in various stages of decay, and they were all men. He was not the first, but he looked like the first to survive.


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Filed under Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Writing

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