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Man's Extinction? | Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu


They're here. God! They've found you!


To run or hide? Your limbs needs no deliberation. You sprint off. Light's speed. Breathless!

Their vision is based on movement. You're spotted. They give chase. Hot chase. Relentless!

'Run!' You hear your mother's voice echoing from wherever.
You are startled. You halt. Turn around. No human in sight.

'Keep running, son!' 

You shiver. Your hair is erect like an excited phallus. They're fast, too fast. they're catching up. You could feel their hands ripping your flesh apart.

Turn and fight or hide? A rush of adrenaline. You turn. Their yellow eyes pierce your biceps. Your courage deflates. You turn.

You sprint.

'Hide' The voice is still. 

You stop on your tracks. Your heart drumming like hard rock beats. You don't trust this new voice. You can't deduce the owner. Your memory hurries to search past voices registered in it's index. You feel fragmented. No face to match the voice.

'H. I. D. E.' This time... calm. Soothing. Still. Slow.

There's a pile of rubble you can squeeze under. A metal object glints faintly. You sneak in. You obey the voice. You trust the voice. Laboured breathes. You would throw up. You make to stand and run.

'Stay down' The voice assures. 

Your muscles relax. Your ever racing limbs are lazy instantly. But your heart Usian Bolts 100km per second. It beats so loudly, you're sure they'll hear. An hour passes.

'Turn around. Scan'

You raise your head a little bit and glance around like a scared chicken haunted by skeletal hawks. They're gone. Stealthy, you creep out. Blood is smeared on the streets. You are tired. You weep. Tears stream down your cheeks. You're utterly alone.

Are you the last one left? You wonder.

No single soul left. 
No sound. 
No... You carry on.

Exhausted, you stumble down, one dark alley after another. Everything is miserable. You come across a door slightly ajar. You feel terrible. Terrified. 

'Go inside' The still voice whispers again. 

You are startled. You glide in. Tip-toe. A foul-smelling torrent of hot air slams the door shut behind you.

You hear their voices. Goblins. You freeze on a spot. Heart racing. Limbs heavy. 

You say your last prayer. 'I die here, father receive my spirit'

Like a storm of bees, they swarm on you. Heart ripped off. You watch in agony as they munch your heart. Blood dripping. Life ebbing.

Their lidless yellow eyes are the last thing you see.

Goblins chatter fill the hall. 

Erie silence.

Mother Mary couldn't save her baby. Man's extinct. 

Earth has no survivor. No saviour.

#Pengician #SSA


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