The charmer sucked the life from the petals of the last Truth Tree and the people of Serenity were confounded by the sudden desire for conflict and terror.
The first wave brought nonsensical killings and exploitation to rival all the previous founding wars. The blood shed was crippling and the landscape became blurred with nuclear remnants and thick smog of short-term memory. The second tide saw the arrival of rebellion and greed, as the people of Serenity shunned community in favour of their acquired autonomous values. The people saw no limits to their desires, after the loss of consciousness that followed the inhalation of smog fumes. The thrill of lies became irresistible and laws were no more than forgotten government records. Families ceased to exist as newborns were immediately dumped after birth, the nights were touch and go for the vulnerable young babes as formerly domesticated animals became feral and feasted on their wailing flesh. The last current brought great unease and starvation as the rapid increase of predators meant that the fastest species were now the hunted. The tale of the charmer was the only consistent historical reminder, shared by word of mouth. His whereabouts and mission were unknown. The people of Sincerity were far too consumed by the temptation of power and the accumulation of fellows to search for anything outside themselves.
Resharn quickly peered out of his hole and swallowed his anxiety, the flesh eating birds were back again. Gradually overtime they began to adapt to the poison he left for them and produced immune offspring. Feeling slightly drowsy he drew his bow and arrows, he hadn’t eaten for days and his stock pile now consisted of the single sacred tin of beans. It came to him in a dream and he vowed to keep the tin intact, until the moment of use presented itself. It didn’t exactly make sense to him either but it did provide some comfort. Resharn dipped the tips of his arrows in his last cylinder of Halt, its fast acting paralysis inducing properties made it a great bargaining tool. Resharn looked over the cylinder momentarily weighing it in his left hand.
‘I’m not swapping this for a measly portion of meat. I’ll get my own.’ Resharn huffed as he laid on his stomach, feet still dangling inside the protective hole. He quietly assessed the activity of the birds and positioned his arrow before drawing his left hand. The arrow hurtled with great speed as it cut through the air and pierced the body of his targeted bird. Resharn made a fist with triumph but his glee was short-lived as the surrounding birds prepared to respond to the attack. The birds flew the distance of minutes in seconds and just missed Resharn’s head as he jumped down his hole and closed the door of his hideout. The repetitive thuds and clangs told him the birds were braver and equally determined to secure a meal. The squawks of fury fed his fear, as Resharn hurried towards the back of his hideout. He hoped to buy himself some time as he shakily dipped all the arrows in preparation and flicked on the monitor his breathing quietly mimicked his heartbeat…
Copyright Teherah Wheeler (©) 2017
(Pic from randombeautysls)
Here’s a link to part 2 if you’re ready for more.
I hope you’re having a good weekend and all the best.