Games • Art • sadness
“Anabelle!” sounded a voice, echoing off the trees in a flooded wood. The thunder sounded over the cry, as if challenging it to sound off again. The cry rebutted and rang out once more, but this time was different. The previous time held a voice of leadership, a voice of assurance, a voice without worry. The second reflected quite the opposite. It stuttered and shivered like the man using it. It held despair in it, but above all, it was the voice of fear.
“ANABELLE!!! ANABELLE PLEASE SAY SOMETHING!! COME BACK! I’M SORRY!!” said the a young man, hands cupped over his wide mouth.
He shuttered in the cold and scratched the scruff of his chin, contemplating his next move. His mind was a flurry of grotesque images and dark thoughts as it wandered to the worst outcomes in his situations. He shook his head, partly to separate himself from these sadistic themes, partly to keep his baggy eyes from pulling him into a sleep. He grasped his side. A sharp pain, one that gave inklings of becoming much worst. Fatal? Not yet….
The man left his spot, staggering through the wind and rain, searching for the one he referred to as Anabelle. He slid down a muddy slope, adding grit to grime as the brown flurry of moist dirt soaked through his cotton pants. He was far too num in the legs to keep moving.
…..he did anyways….he had to…..
He stumbled through the thick brush, his view obstructed by the pines around him, stray needles scratching him as he carelessly threw himself through the woods. He stopped suddenly, his instincts ringing out above his fatigue. He looked down. A torrent of water flowed beneath him. He was about to stumble straight into it. He saw something as he stared into the violent stream. His eyes followed something in the water. He analyzed it, making out something organic. Finally, to leave his curiosity at rest, the organic blob stratched out on the other side of the river, and slowly became the shape of a dog.
“Rusty. RUSTY! RUSTY!? RUSTY HOW’D YOU MAKE IT? Rusty?... Rusty wheres….Wheres Anabelle?”
…Rusty slumped into a ball and closed his eyes...
…he breathed in and out slowly…
…his job was over…
The man looked once again to the water. His gaze started as one of an investigator, but as time dragged forward, his professional gaze turned to frantic glaring, until eventually his eyes were connected to his cheeks by streams of tears. He fell to his knees as his eye caughtsomething flowing through the water. A lone, torn life preserver floated thorugh the rapids. He fished it out quickly, inhaling gallons of water as he reached for it. He wiped away grim from the top of it to reveal something that shattered a broken man….
“For the adventurer in all of us”
“we have this”
He would’ve screamed, truly he would’ve, but the pain in his side increased, leving his aile of unconscious tatters in the ground.
…leaving him broken….
…….leaving him hopless……
………leaving him hurt…….
……leaving him alone…..
Leaving him in solitude…
The end….the beginning….