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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Flash fiction story number three. Isolated life in the end of the world.

Submitted: December 18, 2017

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Submitted: December 18, 2017



Gray ignored her sister’s calls. The cold metal wire stuck to the skin of her palm. She loved to admire the nature that grew freely outside of the isolation that Gray was raised in. The branches were cold and dead but she didn’t mind. The only visible leaves were rotten and brown but it didn’t bother her. She dreamt of a place where there are no walls or fences. Where nature and mankind could inhabit the same world.

The cold wind swept under her hood and let her hair free. Something began to fill the gaps between the trees. The form gradually dragged itself through the forest until it reached the edge. Gray looked closer, her grip tightened on the wire. The echo of a man limped through the snow. Clothing ripped and skin peeled, a beast emerged. A passionate fascination distracted Gray from her sister’s insistent calls. The creature’s dead eyes locked with her’s. She observed the black, frozen skin cracking on its cheek and the dry blood that crusted along its lips. She knew the man was dead, or at least his mind was, but life still found a way to make him walk, eat, groan and react.

As Gray drowned deeper into her thoughts, her sister’s voice cut through. A crack rang out that startled her as she turned to the rest of the facility. The noise grew louder as if everyone living within the walls chimed into a ballad of pain and despair. Skin tore like old thread, blood flowed like a gentle stream in the snow. Clusters of gunfire ignited the air and rang in Gray’s eardrums. She walked closer to the carnage without thinking as the massacre unfolded around her. The same cracked and frozen skin covered the body’s of the army that marched on her home.

Above her stood the flooded watch tower. A guard fought with every muscle in his body until he felt death take a bite from his neck. His cold body fell and impacted in front of Gray. His rifle swung outward and discharged as it hit the ground, the bullet shoved its way through her winter coat. The ghostly force of the impact threw Gray to the ground. She calmly observed the blood staining the snow below her, she didn’t mind. Her hands and neck were covered in the warmth of her own blood but it didn’t bother her. She dreamt of a place with no walls, no fences. She slept and she dreamed.


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