Chapter 1:
Running. Ragged gasps. Burning skin. That was his entire existence. It was as if his life, his goals, and all his needs had been coalesced down to three simple things; pain, breathing, and continuing to run. No thoughts to confuse him. No dreams or aspirations on the tip of his tongue. Just the need to take another breath of burnt stale air. Sweat glistened on his wrinkled greasy white skin as he moved. Fresh rivulets running down the sides of his balding head as the heat around him continued to oppress like a physical force, slowly cooking him alive. The searing of his lungs with every breath were only halted by the harsh coughs of bloody phlegm that occasionally escaped from his lips. Yet, even as his body was racked from coughing, there was only the obsessive need to keep moving forward. The rapid series of his footsteps left visible trails in the black sand as he ran. Every now and then throwing sharp shifting rocks with his weight as he continued higher. Red streams of lava raced down the slopes of nearby mountain crags to form rivers of superheated death that he was forced to maneuver past. As he reached the resting place of a large bolder, the stuttering gate of the man stopped and he gazed around, sweat physically pouring off of him, as he tried to catch his breath. The man looked around trying to decide on a route forward. Even as he did, an insidious voice whispered in the back of his mind that every possible path he considered would inevitably lead to his death. It was not just that there was no way to know which way before him led to safety, or the closest thing to that which existed in this damned place. No, this was the surety that after the rain, comes the lightning.
It was then he saw the flickering of a shadow cast in the distance on the rocks. The figure leaving the impression of large a large creature circling ahead on massive spiked wings. And so the brief interlude of peace ended for the man as the panic born adrenaline screamed in his mind, that he would die if he did not run. On reflex, he began following the nearest river of lava, hugging the bank and using it as a buffer. While it would serve no impediment to the creature above, even an imaginary barrier of safety was welcomed as hope. Inside an inlet, cracked bones of various sizes littered the ground as if they had been haphazardly thrown. Many were in various states of breaking down and sun bleached. A variety of fleshy gyrating scavengers maneuvered inside to salvage whatever meat the mortal remnants still offered. After having been reminded of what he fled from, the man no longer felt the need to rest. Terror had replaced his fatigue as the adrenaline continued to push him forward.
After what seemed like hours of unwavering speed, the man finally collapsed. This level of activity would surely kill him, but it was preferable to die of a heart attack than whatever had been stalking him. As he reclaimed his faculties, he was unsure if he was still being tailed. He wasn't sure why, but his gut told him that if he continued to follow this path of volcanic rock to its slope, he would be free of the grey cloud of ash spewing into the air and hopefully, find himself a temporary respite. The man forced himself to get back on his feet and stumble forward. Blood had dried after leaking from his cracked flaking eye lids as he continued forward. Eventually, he rounded up the base of a steep rocky wall made of the volcanic rock he had been following. He tested his weight, and after finding his foothold, the man began scaling upward. It took longer than it should as the rocks beneath him seemed porous, yet somehow acted slippery. Right foot, push left arm, push, left foot push, right arm, push. After 45 feet, his foot inevitably slipped from under him and he fell hard back down to the ground. His head snapping back from an impact as in banged into a rock. Groggily, the man reflexively shot out his hands and managed to grab a rock firmly buried in the wall. The momentum sent spikes of fire up his forearms, but he managed to hold himself arrest his descent, before beginning to reclaim the ground he had lost.
As he once more began to make his way up the incline, small cascades of rock would slide down, trailing his path.
He stopped 65 feet up as a sound began to grow louder behind him. The distinctive resonating thrum thrum thrum of the creature's wings beating through the air.
Frantically, the man scaled across the ridge as fast as possible. His muscles had begun seizing up intermittently from overuse. spasming underneath him as he continued on. The man paid no mind to the lactic acid in his legs begging him for rest. The familiar sensation of sweat rolling down his face was almost comforting by now. A human familiarity in a world so alien and hostile. Occasionally, some drops would fall into his eyes, causing him to blink or use his forearms to wipe his brow. Upon finally pulling himself up to an outcropped ledge, he found a crevice in the rock, and eagerly threw himself in. The man stopped, waited for his heart to stop racing, and waited. It was the first time since beginning the man had found a place he was safe and enclosed. He stood and swore he could just make out the sounds of the creature beyond the edge of his perception. He closed his eyes, and listened intently. His full focus channeled through his ears, Gradually the noises became louder. Faints whispers on the acrid winds, which, as they caressed the crags and rock formations, seemed to be wailing at him. Begging him, pleading with him in the wails of shifting air currents. The tears and the fear, His eyes began to roll back into his head, on the verge of a mental episode. He knew it was the recollection of a past forgotten. A deep cacophony of roaring terror swam up though his gut sending bile into his mouth. Before the terror could take hold and dread overtook him, the loud beat of wings above, managed to center him back in the moment. Now, all the recently held hope he had been so craving was replaced with bone numbing fear. The moment was over. Once again, he began to sprint out on the ledge and ascend up. And all he could do, was move.
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The scorched air, so stale and sulfurous tangled its tendrils up his nose, causing his already dry sinuses to crack and bleed. The ends of his nostrils were dyed red after so much bloody contact. With two bounds, he managed to jump over a magma flow, not even stopping to see its total width as the sole of his left foot barely grazed its surface. The molten rock briefly scolding his foot, but the man did not even notice. Just go faster. Faster! FASTER!!! He had to get away. Needed to hide, to cower, to curl up and die. Anything else but, what? What was happening? Why was he doing this? Why was that thing! He thought to stop. To wonder why this was happening. Where he was. Who he was. His brain struggled for answered, all while his instincts screamed to keep going.
After the delirium induced of a person running for hours on adrenaline, the man finally slipped on an outcrop of the porous brown volcanic rock which he had once thought would lead him to safety. He flailed in fear briefly, kicking stones into the air and sending others to careen down the slope. As he looked around he saw a small cavern which had formed from a pocket in the darkened magma. He tried to get up, but his right foot fell out from under him. His knees and hands were bruised and bled from cuts, but he shakily continued, crawling forward on his hands and knees. Finally, he shuffled over and pressed his back against the inside of a full robust cave. The air inside, felt like the first cool sensation he thought he had felt in his whole life. A place to escape both the thing after him and the heat.
“I'm safe. I'm okay.” The man moaned in a gravel voice through beleaguered gasps of air, the back of his head resting on the hard surface of the wall while he held himself. After regaining his breath, he rolled up his right pant leg, slowly moving the material past his soar puffy flesh and examined the underlying ankle. The flesh was bright red and purple bruised. The swelling was to the point that it made the bone look distended.
With a grimace, the man began kneading the muscle and swollen tissue with his fingertips. Flinching as the pain caused a few tears to flow from his eyes. Continuing to run on the leg was only going to hamper his recovery more. With that in mind, the man attempted to prop up his leg on a nearby rock and listen for any danger. However, the small measure of relaxation made the adrenaline in his system halt and soon the man was claimed by exhaustion and passed into unconsciousness.
It was an unknown amount of time before the man heard the thumping noise again. The slow rhythmic sound filling the canyon having drawn him from the brief slumber. It was darker than it had been when he had fallen unconscious and now the temperature had begun to turn cold.
Deciding to test his leg condition, he gingerly made to stand and when he applied a paltry amount of his weight down, he screamed out in unimaginably agony. He bent over trying to grab his foot, crashing to the ground in a sprawl, panting heavily as ragged coughs rocked his body. it took a few moments before he heard it.
*Click* The man froze. As he lay unmoving, the sound repeated. *Click* With the slowest and most delicate of movements, the man looked up to see a large black shining talon rhythmically strike the roof above him. The man forced back the urge to inhale only barely, however, making an involuntary movement backward, scraping the rocky earth with his hands. The tapping claw immediately stopped. The silence and terror mounted as the man waited. His whole focus on maintaining silent and steady breaths. After a heartbeat, he heard a shifting. Slowly, a dark shape containing two bright red orbs began lowering from the top of the cave mouth. Their crimson depth swirling with promised wrath. The man did not so much as take a breath, knowing any movement would be his last. For a few moments the two creatures stared into the others eyes. The endless stare of finality. The corners of the man's vision began to grow black from the lack of oxygen. Blood vessels bursting as he maintained his stillness. A showdown of will power and determination that that the human could not possibly win. Finally, with death his only other option, the man took the softest shallowest breath from his left most stuffed nostril. Within a flash, the creature threw its head back and screeched with a blood curdling wail as it sprang in and landed on him.