A burnt smell filled the air. 

My head felt heavy, even as I lay on the ash-covered ground. I sat up, trying to get a good look of my surroundings and trust me I wish I'd stayed flat on the floor.

The clouds were dark, bearing a low rumbling inside them, quite befitting for the thousands, nay millions of slaughtered beings laid across the ground. I stood, walking towards what seemed to have previously been a mighty castle.

My shoulders where heavy as though they carried a great weight, my hands tingled with a weak sensation, my eyes burned with rage because deep down I knew for certain that all this chaos, all this destruction was and would forever be my fault. I trudged distraughtly, getting closer and closer to the ruins of the castle.

Suddenly, I was face flat and having bloody ashes for dinner.

"Stupid rock." I cursed under my breath while spitting out the unholy contents that had found their way into my mouth, cradling the toe that bumped into the evil rock. How did it all come to this? Surely there were better times before this, why couldn't it just stay that way? Oh right, I forgot. All good things come to an end, chuckling bitterly, I pushed myself up once again. 

"Maraja!" 

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Startled, thinking surely everyone was supposed to be dead, I looked around for this fellow survivor of mine.

"Maraja, get out of there!"

I saw him in the distance, his voice was familiar, calming even, I squinted further trying to figure out who on earth he could've been and who on earth he was calling out to. I thought I was the only doomed survivor, because I truly would've preferred dying than waking up to that.

"Maraja! What are you doing?! Run!"

He became more visible as he ran towards me, taking a moment to look behind me, I couldn't fathom who he could possibly be referring to. Could it have been me? I laughed in confused denial. Could it?

"MARAJA!"

Almost as though his voice carried life within it, the dead around me began to rise. What in the world? The gory scene of burnt corpses, some incinerated beyond recognition was heavy enough for me, but what came next, made it worse. One by one, they all began to stare at me. One by one, they rose crookedly from their death beds, only to focus their empty gazes on me. 

"MARAJA! RUN!"

His figure was drowned out by the sea of now risen dead bodies and so was his voice. I prepared myself for the worst, closing my eyes and shielding my head.

Suddenly one of them burst out laughing. I'm sorry what? I peeked in between my fingers to see that the rest were following suit. For a moment I was strangely relieved. Confused, but relieved. Then again, all good things come to an end. That's when I heard them. The whispers.

"Failure."

"Coward."

"Weakling."

Somehow that was much more hurtful than I thought. I'd never been one to stomach insults, especially when they were true. Tears flooded down my eyes as my knees buckled. 

"Bastard."

"Traitor."

"Liar."

My sobs intensified until it was all I could hear.