Beautiful Remains

I remember. The morning was muttering, screaming, whispering all into my poor ears that cold December day. Masses circulated as freely as they dared in the spaceless streets, each individual possessing uncaring faces. As chaos and order clashed below me, a dog’s sigh comforted me, telling me I was safe behind the frost-touched window. Not a soul from below caught my careful gaze into the laden street and that alone brought me a bittersweet smile... I missed this.

A speck obscured my vision. Curious, I tilted my chin upwards. The clouds had released a flurry of pure, icy fairies, letting them float down between the stern skyscrapers. Snow had come and with it would come the Uggs and pink-nosed crowds. How I loved this life here in the Big Apple.

But that life wasn’t mine to enjoy anymore. As I look back, I see that everything I did before now, before this plague, was never destined to be. The sickness would have come anyway. People would cease to exist peacefully and I would live out my days outside the few social circles left either way. Slowly, my conscious returned to the cold, abandoned world of the present. It was a gradual realization, not the sudden shift that I was expecting.

The sky, dressed with dark dust clouds, lost the snow I had daydreamed of and the white and blue canvas became a faded yellow. Fate’s hollowed eyes drilled through my back again, bringing me the well-needed self-consciousness. The horizon still held the metal towers of the city, but twisted skeletons, coated in rust, took the place of buildings. All of this city had fallen into a state of decay, a halted frame of neglect until the ends of the earth.

No one could deny this: worlds had fallen with that disease and not a soul prayed for revival.
They prayed for mercy in the current life instead.

“Ray?”

“Hm?”

My distant reply didn't faze Dylan's positive attitude and he answered just as brightly,“I'll be downstairs, making dinner. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful.” I muttered politely.

He left without another word and a slow grin. Meanwhile, I sat like a statue in deep thought. Days passed in this fashion of Dylan cooking, cleaning, scavenging and me, hunting, scouting. We lived and together, that was all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wind searched the empty catacombs above and below, looking for a sign of life. It found no one other than a petite blonde with her coat pulled tightly over her shoulders. Balanced a stretch away from her feet, on the brink of the roof, a sniper rifle had been expertly set up. The little sniper and her weapon sat atop a ragged clinic in downtown. The woman’s amber eyes focused up into the sky, searching just as eagerly as the Wind for signs, though for what kind of signs she was looking, the Wind did not know.

In curiosity, Wind flew down and plopped down next to the girl. She responded by pulling her denim-clad knees up to her chest and wrapping arms around herself.

“It’s cold enough without this wind.” she snapped.

Wind chuckled at this and crossed his own legs, examining the creature next to him. A silver nose ring, just as fragile-looking as her body, cupped her right nostril. Honey tinted hair fell in a messy braid down her spine and her open eyes saw every movement. Every article in her attire held a darker tone and blended her into the faded stone of the roof.

A breath of relaxation left her pale lips, but then quickly retreated back into her mouth. Abruptly, her muscles tensed and her golden eyes darted over what she could see of the street. Not sensing life, Wind sailed from his seat on the ground and over the building, to investigate the cause of the woman's stress.

Notes

This is a story that I wrote long ago and I never finished.

If you guys like, I will keep updating so it is literally all up to you guys!

(This is something that I have written that I really poured a lot of my soul into since it was written during a tough time for me. That said, I am really proud of this work. Enjoy!)