Winds of Change

The world around him swept past in a manic haze, swarms of people rushing back to the safety of their shoddy sanctuaries. And amid this routine rush, a teenager who seemed to have only recently shed his signs of adolescence stood in a murky, dark alleyway.

Gazing past his long strands of messy, swamp-like dark hair, the 16-year-old observed absentmindedly.

The swirls of pitch-black darkness reigning within his irises contained a myriad of uncontrollable emotions as he watched the scene from the warmth of his home.

Jealousy, envy, longing, and pain.

But almost entirely, emptiness.

A panging flood of anxiety-inducing emptiness.

Not the superior, hormone-induced arrogance of the upper class of society that the people enjoyed referencing as the 'emptiness' of the elite.

The gaze that the superior held over the inferior.

No.

It was the emptiness of a man, no, a child, that had given up.

That had been given up on.

Turning his gaze to the distance, the pale, warm sun had begun to fall below the walls of reinforced alloy that guarded the crater that encircled their city.

It was more accurate, however, to call the crater their city.

The most powerful beings in this decrepit city manned the 40-meter-tall walls. On top of those men and women of supreme power, over a thousand soldiers of mundane roots crewed the weapons of mass destruction within the battlements.

Funnily enough, even those men and women of absolute strength were retreating to their barracks.

The reason why was simple, really.

In fact, the reason for their rapid retreat was beyond simple.

They were weak.

Too weak.

Funny, right?

A raspy cough slipped through his mouth as he chuckled to himself.

Shaking the pain in his lungs off, the boy, Syllian, returned to the depths of the alleyway.

Sneaking through multiple tight squeezes thanks to his short height and incurring a few extra scratches on his grimy skin, Syllian laid eyes on his humble abode.

'Ah, I'm back my beauty.'

Tucked into an inconspicuous corner between the walls of the ruined buildings was a single tiny shack.

It had four walls and a roof.

A home.

His home.

"Pft!", Syllian suddenly bent over, breaking into a fit of wild laughter, "Ah! Who am I kidding!"

His words echoed between the silent walls, breaking the peaceful facade with his crude, uninhibited laugh.

'Home? Kill me, please...'

This was no home.

It was a tomb.

One day, it would house his sleeping corpse within.

'Or maybe my mangled, fleshless corpse.'

Opening the rusted, rotting wooden door, Syllian shut it behind him, locking the rusty iron chain.

Stood in the darkness of his humble home, Syllian walked instinctively to his bed made of hardwood and sticks of moulded straw.

Laying his head on the rock-like pillow, the boy shifted into the most comfortable position he could find and relaxed his body.

Darkness was both his friend and his enemy.

While it kept his life intact, it also brought out the worst of memories at times.

This time, it brought out a fresh memory.

The sight of those supreme beings retreating from the walls returned to his mind at that moment.

Curious, isn't it?

To be considered supreme by the mortals, and be respected to an unfathomable level.

Yet when light retreated and when true darkness flooded the streets of this ruined city, not even they could survive.

Apparently, this city was once situated in a location filled with vast greenery, and the most beautiful of sights with a lake just a few miles off its furthest borders.

But now it sat at the bottom of a crater, its once soaring skyscrapers torn into ruin, and vast ravines that stretched for kilometres that plunged to the abyss littered the city as though a god had thrust its sword repeatedly into the earth.

'What was it called again? Europe?'

Twisting his head to the side like a parrot, at least, according to what the street vendors had told him what a parrot was like, Syllian recalled all the information he had of the city for a moment.

'Hmm... What was it again...?'

A light bulb suddenly shone in his mind, not that he knew what it was like to see a light bulb turn on.

'Aha! This city is in a place called Europe, or where Europe used to be. But what was this city's original name...?'

Syllian was curious for this brief moment, but that curiosity disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

Incinerated in the dull crucible of his mind.

Not just the curiosity, the jealousy, envy, longing, and pain that had built up over the day.

All of it.

His sacred law dictated that it had to be destroyed.

'Curiosity is a sin. Hope is a sin.'

He had discarded such useless thoughts from his mind about a year ago.

What was the point?

He was cursed by god from the very beginning, not to mention being born into this hell hole, he was born into the outskirts of a hellhole that could be considered an outskirt of its own.

How unlucky was he, how hated by the gods must he be?

So curse hope, curse curiosity, curse it all.

He didn't need it.

It would only bring his demise one step closer, that's all.

So, Syllian released his mind of all thought and retreated into the depths of his soul, relinquishing control over his body as he began to drift into the darkness.

And sleep he did.

1 hour...

2 hours...

3...

Tap.

An odd noise echoed through the empty shack.

Tap. Tap.

Now it echoed twice.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Thrice.

Shifting about his cosy bed, Syllian rubbed his eyes, overwhelmed by the exhaustion from his previous day.

Tap.

Now it echoed once.

Confused by the sudden tapping noise, Syllian sat up, his mind still dazed by his sudden awakening.

Tap. Tap.

Twice.

Standing up, Syllian walked toward the door in a confused, soulless manner.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

This time, the taps were quiet, eerily...

Syllian suddenly froze, his clarity returning just mere moments before his hand touched the chain locking his door.

...Quiet.

His breath, his heartbeat, his footsteps, the noise of creaking wood.

Gone.

Silent.

As though trapped in a separate dimension.

Frosty sweat dripped from his temple, all the blood in his face draining to the pits of his contorting stomach.

A vile, nightmare-inducing feeling of horror gripped his throat.

Tap.

The taps returned to a single, vibrating echo.

His palpitating heart instantly doubled its efforts, sending continuous rushes of blood through his frail veins.

Tap. Tap.

With the second tap, the chain on his door began rattling, creeping ever so slowly to the edges of the lock.

Syllian couldn't see it.

But he could hear it.

Whatever it was on the other side...

It was about to come inside.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

On the third, and final tap, a bone-chilling dread clamped his body.

Because below the frame of his door, the darkness of his room retreated.

And replacing the darkness...

Was the epitome of true, unfiltered darkness.

A rancid, apocalyptic darkness belonging to a world defiled to the corners of its roots.

Syllian instantly shut his eyes.

Still, Syllian was too late.

Wisps of horror started their rampage in his mind, charging into his very soul in an attempt to overthrow the current ruler.

Gritting his teeth, blood pooled into his mouth as some of his teeth ripped into his gums.

Swallowing the blood, Syllian stood his ground, remaining perfectly still, like a statue carved of solid stone.

Even as his mind fought a war of its own, his body refused to budge.

Perhaps that was his only saving grace.

As Syllian fought the first battle in his mind, the second battle began.

The heat radiating from his skin was sucked away with no resistance, his life itself swallowed whole by the being crawling up his body.

And crawl it did.

Whether it was on purpose or not, Syllian didn't know.

But he hated it.

It felt like a block of ice coiling around his body, testing out the product, judging whether it was worth it to purchase the food or not.

All his struggles felt like they had been reduced to nothing before this abomination, whatever it was.

His emptiness, his jealousy, his envy, every facet of his lifelong struggle seemed pointless.

Syllian swore he could feel it mocking him, laughing at him, ridiculing the poor ant for its worthless endeavour of existing.

Slyly rubbing itself on his cheek, a portion of whatever it was crawled up to his ear and inward, hanging millimetres away from his eardrum.

And then-

"Hey, open your eyes."

-it spoke.

A warm, welcoming motherly voice full of tender life.

For a moment, Syllian was tempted to open them.

Why?

Because he missed her.

Her cradling his tiny body, cheekily smiling at him with her cute dimples.

Sometimes she would get mad at him for coming home too late, rightfully so.

Oh... How he missed it.

Dearly so.

To the point where his sacred laws were worth dismissing.

Was longing so sinful?

...Yes.

It was.

The freezing tentacle lingering in his ear reminded him oh so dearly how sinful it was.

"Please..."

Sinful.

"Open..."

Sin...

"Silly, open please..."

It went silent for a second.

Then retracted itself from his ear.

Then from his face.

His body.

And his mind.

The world stood still for a second.

And then all noise returned.

It was gone.

Stood in a puddle of sweat, Syllian heaved with ragged breaths, the exhaustion creeping in again as the crisis withdrew from his home.

Swoosh...

A gentle, warm breeze suddenly blew in from beneath his door.

Opening his eyes, Syllian looked down at the gap at the bottom of his door.

Sure, he couldn't see in the darkness, but the lack of true darkness brought immense relief to his fragile heart.

Releasing a hefty sigh, Syllian stumbled back and sat on the edge of his bed.

Swoosh...

Another wave of wind flashed over Syllian.

'Cold...'

Horribly so, his shack had no insulation. It may be summer, but nighttime in this ruined world, or at least in this ruined city, was mind-numbingly cold.

Clutching his chest, Syllian gradually regulated his heart rate.

Swoosh...

Another freezing wave of air flushed through his home.

Bitterly curling up into a ball, Syllian endured beating after beating of cold air.

The pain in his chest constantly rising with every beatdown.

'Why is it so cold-'

And another wave.

However, with this one, Syllian listened closely.

And...

Another.

His body grew colder.

But.

'Why.'

Why.

'Why can't I hear the wind.'

It was almost as though...

Almost...

Without hesitation, Syllian tore apart the battered shirt that covered his torso effortlessly.

Syllian stared with intrepid horror.

A horror that not even that abomination could bring upon him.

Because this horror, this horror was of a different kind.

A reality-tearing, purplish-black rift tore apart his chest, leaving a hole that led to the abyss where his heart previously lay.

And this hole continued to expand with each passing second, slowly, extremely so.

But it was expanding.

This horror.

It was the horror of hope.