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You are getting groceries, deciding between semi-skimmed and full fat milk, on the day the world dies.
You’re in the supermarket when it abruptly plunges into darkness. It’s noon, you think, and then you see there’s no sun in the sky. And then you don’t know what to think. Everyone else notices quickly enough, of course, and the rest of the store falls into panic immediately, looting and grabbing at everything they could see in a desperate burst of survival. But you just walk out into the falling snow. You aren’t sure whether you’re going to see your loved ones one last time, or finish some long abandoned dream, or simply wait to see what happens. You aren’t sure it matters. But you walk out in search of something.
That’s why you’re the one who sees it.
It crawls into the world from the darkness. A massive body of shadows and feathers, stinking of rot and shaking like it’s held together by sheer will, a rusted blade covered in blood clutched tightly in its hands. It looks out at the world through cold eyes and broad smiles, and it doesn’t see you. Or if it does, it doesn’t care. It just keeps walking
You follow it as it staggers through the world, body cracking as it remakes itself over and over. You follow it as every bird falls from the sky, as the river turns stagnant on the spot, as the gold on the cathedral begins to impossibly rust. Still it drags itself forward, each step changing it and breaking the world in a different way. And it speaks as it claws its crumbling body forwards, a dripping, hissing mass of whispers from a dozen mouths.
“We killed the most beautiful creature… it doesn’t matter, it’s done now… haha! If only He was here to see...it’s all broken and there’s nothing we can...calm down boys! We won!”
It keeps walking. It crawls over the cars, not stopping as they turn to rusted metal and torn plastic under it. It looks around, and you see on the hills above that the forests have begun to decay. There are people around you, of course. Some attack it, some flee, some plead. It simply shudders over their bones too. It looks around frantically, something like fear in whatever eyes it has now.
“What a crock of shit! We won and still got fucked over…No. We just need more data points.We can solve this”
It stands up to its full height, reaches out with one of too many hands, hisses something under its breath as the ground shakes and every computer switches off the last time. Above it, the stars fade and the moon cracks, and it looks up with bright eyes that are maybe starting to weep.
“See? It’s over. Stop panicking...need to run, not safe here...what have we done...shut up! We can win this!”
It forces itself forwards as the snow keeps falling and the clouds turn brown and rotten. It whispers constantly as it moves towards the centre of the city, people and objects gone in its wave. Its face shifts between smiles and frowns and cold silence as the rock of the buildings begin to erode at unnatural speed and you realise you haven’t seen an insect since the minute it manifested.
“Stop complaining boys! This is what we...we’ve done something terrible...without her, life is not worth… we are worms writhing in the corpse of the beautiful...there’s nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide ...this isn’t funny anymore”
A shriek of rage as all the glass in the city shatters and the buildings start to fall one by one. You realise too late that there are no other people here, and when you turn, the way back is shrouded in too thick shadows. Only the gleaming eyes of the creature and the shattered remnants of the moon light the world now, let you watch as it convulses in the ruined square, clawing at itself and hissing with rage.
“Why did we listen to the backstabber...knew it would have fucking ended this way, I told...is this the truth? Is this all that...we’re just ending. Everything ends. At least it's…”
It keeps arguing with itself, a new voice each time its body twists to become huge and hulking or rangy and fanged or twisted and bright or cold and smooth or… With each shuddered invective and crack of bones, another beautiful thing leaves the world forever, until soon you cannot see anything around you but darkness and the creature’s current form.
Finally, with nothing else to lose, you walk to the creature and try to speak to it. Its head snaps up when it sees you, and the shaking stops. Its body shudders, long and sinuous, and a maw full of rotten teeth twists into a cruel smile. It acknowledges you at last.
“Aha, finally! Our adoring minions. Well, our loyal subject, we’re the house. We’re the winners. Everyone else who could claim to be the top dog is gone. It’s just us, and all of this is ours!”
It stands, arms spread out, smile manic as it looks around at its ruined and blasted kingdom. And you do not respond, for the neurons in your brain are no longer a part of the world. It doesn’t notice, wouldn’t listen, just keeps crowing as the darkness comes closer with each cackle.
“Don’t you see, boys? We beat them both! We beat them all! We won!”
One final change as another shard reaches up to speak, to protest, to agree. It doesn’t matter.
Because now there’s nothing left to say.
And nothing left to speak.
And