Kirkodirk
New Member
It was cold, and there’s only so much kindling. You could taste the bitterness in the air, but maybe only a palate refined to the rugged hills could sense it. To anyone else, the woods were pitched in a dark blanket of constant rain, but under that frail ruin of a shack, there was nothing to wash away that taste.
“You’d think there would be an ember left over, at least one,” the grizzled voice rang. His breath was still hot enough to fog the small room that bound them together. Despite how green the forest was, the only real life in it were those two figures. It wasn’t much, but their beating hearts were like earthquakes in that forest. “It seems the gods like it cold,” he half-mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You might even think he was trying for a joke if his tone wasn’t steeped in such misery.
“Gods wouldn’t mind the cold at all from where they are,” the kid’s voice skittered like a stone across water. The same chains that bind a wolf and a deer to a lake in drought held them together. Their alliance was as brittle as the tiny shed in the valley they had found their refuge.
The man bore furiously into the log with the small twig he was wielding. He did so with such an amount of focus you’d think he was trying to crack it open like an egg, but meaty hands make for clumsy fingers. Even with a master woodsman, they would need a miracle to see the flicker of flames. Back home there was at least a fireplace. Back home at least they had people.
Thud!
The very air seemed to freeze in place as they both held their breath.
Thud!
They couldn’t have tracked anything through the storm, much less through all the mud and shit between here and Waco.
Thud!
How could they get out?! There has to be a way! All the sacrifices for nothing!
Thud!
…
…
It stopped, right at their front door. The thing knew they were in there. They wouldn’t get far on two feet. They would barely reach the treeline of that small clearing.
The roof bent and snapped off like a soda can, and the metal giant tossed it aside revealing the glowing dead eyes of a soulless killer. Perfectly round eyes, searching, wanting, and always feeding.
The old man threw himself in front of the boy, ”Run!” The boy ran out the door to face the harsh winds as his friend was hoisted to his doom going down the steely gullet of the fiend. Soon after, it sprinted towards the boy with the determination of a star athlete. The monster caught him easily, and although it seemed like he might wriggle out of his tight fist for a moment, a quick squeeze proved to be enough to silence him. His spine was broken and his eyes wincing at the horrid pain, he tried to scream, but all sound refused to escape his lips.
The boy dropped into the savage's mouth like a sack of bricks and into the bio fuel container. “Optimal capacity reached,” said a disembodied voice to the broken boy. The ground was soft. He turned his crooked neck to the left to see his elder companion. To the right a girl from back home. There was something lying on her chest. A small blue bird lay dead over her, and over her legs, a cat. “Beginning Carbon extraction.” A small spark and the inside was lit like an oven. The makeshift fuel snapped like wood on a fire. Filters and valves opening and closing, sorting the melting corpses from their clothes, and the dogs from their collars. After it was all said and done the voice rang out again, “Quota met and carbon fuel processed. Another step closer to a cleaner planet! ...No air pollutants found… No soil pollutants found. Standby for secondary carbon fuel source.”
The metal man then sat and waited. As the sun poked through clouds, no birds sang, and no insects chirped. Only the wind flowing through the trees. It was warming up little by little. It turned out to be a pleasant afternoon perfect for relaxing in the tall grass being warmed by daylight.
“Fuel source found. Begin resource collection,” it ordered itself in that low monotone voice. The machine rose and walked with echoing footsteps towards its distant prey. It might be warm now, but it wouldn’t last forever. The resources collected today would be gone soon, and the days would begin to shrink further as winter approached.
It would be cold, and there’s only so much kindling
“You’d think there would be an ember left over, at least one,” the grizzled voice rang. His breath was still hot enough to fog the small room that bound them together. Despite how green the forest was, the only real life in it were those two figures. It wasn’t much, but their beating hearts were like earthquakes in that forest. “It seems the gods like it cold,” he half-mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You might even think he was trying for a joke if his tone wasn’t steeped in such misery.
“Gods wouldn’t mind the cold at all from where they are,” the kid’s voice skittered like a stone across water. The same chains that bind a wolf and a deer to a lake in drought held them together. Their alliance was as brittle as the tiny shed in the valley they had found their refuge.
The man bore furiously into the log with the small twig he was wielding. He did so with such an amount of focus you’d think he was trying to crack it open like an egg, but meaty hands make for clumsy fingers. Even with a master woodsman, they would need a miracle to see the flicker of flames. Back home there was at least a fireplace. Back home at least they had people.
Thud!
The very air seemed to freeze in place as they both held their breath.
Thud!
They couldn’t have tracked anything through the storm, much less through all the mud and shit between here and Waco.
Thud!
How could they get out?! There has to be a way! All the sacrifices for nothing!
Thud!
…
…
It stopped, right at their front door. The thing knew they were in there. They wouldn’t get far on two feet. They would barely reach the treeline of that small clearing.
The roof bent and snapped off like a soda can, and the metal giant tossed it aside revealing the glowing dead eyes of a soulless killer. Perfectly round eyes, searching, wanting, and always feeding.
The old man threw himself in front of the boy, ”Run!” The boy ran out the door to face the harsh winds as his friend was hoisted to his doom going down the steely gullet of the fiend. Soon after, it sprinted towards the boy with the determination of a star athlete. The monster caught him easily, and although it seemed like he might wriggle out of his tight fist for a moment, a quick squeeze proved to be enough to silence him. His spine was broken and his eyes wincing at the horrid pain, he tried to scream, but all sound refused to escape his lips.
The boy dropped into the savage's mouth like a sack of bricks and into the bio fuel container. “Optimal capacity reached,” said a disembodied voice to the broken boy. The ground was soft. He turned his crooked neck to the left to see his elder companion. To the right a girl from back home. There was something lying on her chest. A small blue bird lay dead over her, and over her legs, a cat. “Beginning Carbon extraction.” A small spark and the inside was lit like an oven. The makeshift fuel snapped like wood on a fire. Filters and valves opening and closing, sorting the melting corpses from their clothes, and the dogs from their collars. After it was all said and done the voice rang out again, “Quota met and carbon fuel processed. Another step closer to a cleaner planet! ...No air pollutants found… No soil pollutants found. Standby for secondary carbon fuel source.”
The metal man then sat and waited. As the sun poked through clouds, no birds sang, and no insects chirped. Only the wind flowing through the trees. It was warming up little by little. It turned out to be a pleasant afternoon perfect for relaxing in the tall grass being warmed by daylight.
“Fuel source found. Begin resource collection,” it ordered itself in that low monotone voice. The machine rose and walked with echoing footsteps towards its distant prey. It might be warm now, but it wouldn’t last forever. The resources collected today would be gone soon, and the days would begin to shrink further as winter approached.
It would be cold, and there’s only so much kindling
