Warning: This chapter contains scenes that might be considered graphic or disturbing to some readers.
Hello everyone! Thank you for checking out my new story. For those of you familiar with my work and eagerly awaiting the next chapter of Sins of a Future World, please know that I will be going back to it. I just needed to do something different for a little bit.
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Email: purplejubilee17@gmail.com
After Earth Went Dark
Elliot was very young when the flare hit Earth. He could barely remember what life had been like before. He remembered television and video games; cell phones, and microwaves. All of that was gone now. Most of the gadgets and appliances still sat around the house, gathering dust or being used for storage. Lifeless reminders of the once bright and decadent world.
Now, everything was different. They ate mostly canned food, sometimes heated over a little propane stove. They were the lucky ones. Many did not have food at all. After the flare, the economy had all but collapsed. The government had tried to salvage things but their methods had been controlling and authoritarian. A second civil war had broken out, effectively ending the restoration attempts, or at least postponing them indefinitely. With such poor communication, no one seemed to know much of what was going on beyond their small communities.
Elliot's family lived in a northern suburb of New York. It was just far enough out that sometimes hunters or farmers came through town selling meats, eggs, and vegetables. Elliot liked those times. It was also far enough to avoid most of the horror stories they had heard about the city, falling to mob rule with people being murdered in their homes.
Winters were hard, but they made it work. Elliot's father had built a makeshift woodstove that did a good job of keeping the lower level of the house warm enough. It was an unsustainable way of life however. The cans of tuna and peaches began to run out, and more and more of the violence from the city was spilling over. One winter, their elderly neighbor, Mrs. Davis passed away. Minimal food combined with the freezing temperatures had been too much for her. Elliot's parents decided that as soon as it was warm enough, they would leave.
Elliot's mother had talked about leaving for some time. Her brother owned a farm farther north and had always been what some would call a "prepper". However, Elliot's father had always rejected the idea, insisting that they would find a way to get by. This was of course before the death of Mrs. Davis, which drove home in the whole family the reality that life in their little town was not going to get better.
In late May, they packed up an old shopping cart with food and a large tent and set off to the north. There were five of them in total, Elliot and his older sister Kara, their parents, and old Mr. Davis, who had asked to come along. He brought his old shotgun with him, along with a picture of his late wife of more than sixty years.
Elliot was of two minds about the whole situation. He had been very sad when Mrs. Davis passed away. The elderly couple had always been sweet and friendly neighbors, gladly letting Elliot play in their yard when he was younger. He did not see though, why her death meant that they had to walk halfway across the state to live with an uncle he barely knew. It was frightening to think about leaving. His entire life had been spent in the little town, and since the flare he had never traveled farther than a town or two over. On the other hand however, it felt like an adventure. They were setting off to unexplored lands and Elliot was partially excited about what they might find.
Soon after their journey began, Elliot found that it was not nearly as exciting as he had hoped. His feet always hurt and he was always hungry and tired. Elliot's father pushed the cart while his mother read the map. Mr. Davis carried his shotgun to keep anyone from hassling them, and Elliot and his sister were responsible for gathering up any usable wood they found on the side of the road.
After only a few days, Elliot was wishing they could go back home. It had been raining almost nonstop which meant that their fires at night were small, if they could even start one. They had just set up camp on the first dry night of their trip. The ground was soft and muddy though, so Elliot knew they were in for another miserable night of sleep. His father sent him off to try and find dry wood. He always gave the same warning. "Don't wander too far, and come straight back if you see anyone."
That evening however, Elliot wanted some time to himself. He had been bickering which had ended with their mother yelling at them. The mood was sour overall and Elliot needed to get away from it, if only for a short time. He wandered through the woods, gathering sticks and small logs that were dry enough for a fire. This was a chore that he did not mind all that much. It did not take much thought so he could usually just zone out and thing about other things.
He began to get the feeling that he had strayed farther away from camp than he should have, and dusk was turning to darkness quickly. He was about to turn around when he froze. Surprisingly close to where he stood, he saw a man. He was very big and wearing a torn plaid shirt and dirty jeans. He appeared to be relieving himself against a tree and had not noticed Elliot yet.
Taking a slow step backward, Elliot stepped on a wet rock and slipped. The bundle of wood he was carrying went flying and he let out a little yelp as he landed heavily on the ground.
The man looked up and saw him and grinned. It was not a friendly grin. It was wolfish and missing several teeth.
"Well hello there. You're a pretty young thing aren't you? Did you get lost?" His voice was as unnerving to Elliot as his smile.
Elliot was slender and his young face combined with his almost shoulder-length hair made it so that from behind or from a distance, he could sometimes be mistaken for a girl. As the man stepped closer his expression changed to one of confusion.
"Ah, close enough." He said eventually with a chilling laugh.
Elliot scrambled to his feet and turned and ran. He could hear the man's heavy footfalls chasing him. He screamed for his father or anyone. He tried in vain to keep his sense of direction as he ran but soon he had no idea which way he should be going to get back to camp. To his horror he looked behind him to see not one but two men chasing him now, both looking of similar repute.
He skidded to a halt as another man stepped around a tree almost causing a collision. The third man seemed surprised and made a half-hearted grab at Elliot as he raced by. How many of them were there? Elliot was panicking now.
Seeing two more men coming at him from different directions Elliot realized there was nowhere for him to run. He looked around and grabbed up the biggest stick he could find. Gripping it as tightly as his shaking hands would let him, he turned slowly as the first two men came to a halt just in front of him. A circle of grinning jeering faces began to form around him and Elliot felt himself starting to cry. Some of the men held bats or long knives, a few even carried guns. Many of them had torches or lanterns, lighting the circle around him. He called out again and again for his parents or Mr. Davis but this only seemed to entertain the men even more.
"Look, she's a he!" one of them called out mockingly. Elliot swung his stick fiercely at any of them that stepped close.
"It's all the same." Another jeered.
"Put that stick down before you hurt yourself." A huge man ordered, stepping out of the circle.
Elliot immediately swung at him, but he made a surprisingly nimble dodge for someone his size and then grabbed the stick. He wrenched it powerfully from Elliot's grip and tossed it to the side.
Crying, Elliot turned in a circle, looking for any way out. The man grabbed him roughly and threw him down on the ground.
"Here's how this is going to work." He said before spitting a heavy mouthful of tobacco. "We're not going to kill you. Yet."
Elliot curled up into a ball and sobbed.
"We don't get much intimate company these days. The man told him, eliciting chuckles from some of the others. "Women are better. But you know what they say. Any port in a storm." This got a loud round of hearty laughter.
Elliot called out for his father once more.
"Shut up!" The man ordered angrily. "What is your dad going to do anyway? You'd better hope he doesn't come looking for you unless you want to see him die."
Having no response to this, Elliot just continued crying.
"So my boys and I are going to have some fun with you. You're going to come along with us and take care of our needs. Once we're bored of you, if you've behaved yourself, then maybe we'll let you go. If not, then we'll just use you up. Some of the boys like a little fight, ain't that right?" Several of the men hooted an agreement.
"Please just let me go." Elliot begged through his tears.
The man laughed. "That's not how the world works anymore. We're in charge now. More specifically," He leaned in close. "I'm in charge. That's why I'll be going first. But boy, you've got a long night ahead of you." He looked pointedly around the circle of almost a dozen men and Elliot sobbed in despair and terror.
"Take him right here, boss." One of the men encouraged. "Show him his place."
The boss seemed to like this idea and grinned wickedly down at Elliot. "Turn over." He ordered, but when Elliot did not move he grabbed him with two strong hands and forced him onto his stomach. Elliot screamed and kicked at the man who seemed not to feel it. "That's not what I meant by behaving yourself." He growled, easily holding Elliot down with one hand.
The other hand gripped Elliot's waistband tightly and then roughly yanked on it. Elliot felt the button of his jeans pop off as they came halfway down. The men in the circle screamed and laughed terribly as he was exposed to them. The cool night air felt violating on his skin and Elliot tried in vain to crawl away. He heard the man's belt jingling and was glad that it was nearly too dark to see clearly anymore. Hearing the sound of a fly being undone had never been so terrifying to Elliot. He screamed again as he felt a hand touching him.
Suddenly the boss let out a soft grunt. The pressure of the hand holding him down lessened. Elliot felt a wetness dripping onto his lower back and shuddered to think what it was.
"Boss? You alright?" Someone asked.
Elliot shrieked in surprise as the full weight of the man slumped down on top of him. Had he been standing and not on his knees, the impact might have seriously hurt him.
The circle erupted in chaos. Men began shouting and Elliot heard screams. He couldn't tell what was going on. The darkness combined with the boss covering him obscured his vision almost completely. Something also began to drip down onto his face, forcing him to close his eyes. Some of it got onto his lips and the salty iron taste of blood was unmistakable.
From what Elliot could see, there were men running around in a panic. He could not see anything that seemed to be motivating it, and some of the men seemed to be equally confused. One man ran through Elliot's field of vision, swinging his torch madly at nothing before he disappeared behind a tree. Several gunshots rang out causing Elliot to jump. He tried his best not to move, hoping that what he now realized was the dead body of the boss would shield him from whatever was to come.
After what seemed like a long time but was probably only a minute or two of sheer pandemonium, the forest fell completely silent again. Elliot held his breath and tried to control his sniffling as his heart pounded in his ears. He listened for any signs of life. The men had been terrifying, but someone or something had killed the boss and caused almost a dozen grown men to descend into a fear-induced frenzy. Maybe they were dead too, Elliot did not know. He could see at least one more body from where he was, but had no idea what had become of the other men. This dark unknown was just as frightening in a different way.
Suddenly he felt the heavy body of the boss being lifted off of him. When he was uncovered he shrieked and scrambled up and started running, making it only a few steps before tripping over his pants. To Elliot's surprise however, no one came and tackled him or shouted at him. It did not sound like anyone had even noticed his little escape attempt. He pulled his pants back up around his waist and looked around. Several torches still burned but now lay on the ground. Fortunately the ground was wet enough that there was little risk of anything catching. By the light of these torches, since it was almost completely dark now, Elliot saw bodies littering the forest floor. He could not tell how many there were, if it was all of the men or only most. Kneeling not far from where Elliot had been hiding under the boss, was a dark-clad figure who appeared to be searching the boss's body and pockets.
Elliot's first thought was to just run. This person was preoccupied and maybe would not even chase him. As he thought about this though, he realized that he had no idea where he would run to. He had totally lost the direction back to the road and would be stumbling around in a dark forest by himself. This stranger had saved his life once, maybe they were willing to help.
Standing up shakily, Elliot had to hold his pants up with a hand since the button had been destroyed. He cleared his throat quietly but the shadowy figure did not move. Elliot began to wonder with growing fear if this was even a person. They, or it had just killed all those men in a matter of seconds or minutes. What if this was some sort of monster or demon that haunted the forest?
He was about to reconsider his choice to ask for help when the figure suddenly tossed something over its shoulder that landed directly at Elliot's feet. Elliot jumped violently before he looked down at the object and realized it was the boss's belt. He picked it up tentatively and saw that it had been cut, almost in half and had new holes cut into it, making it almost the perfect size for him. Elliot looked at the belt, then back at the still-kneeling figure.
"Who are you?" Elliot eventually squeaked quietly.
Without responding, the figure stood to their full height of over six feet. Elliot could now see that they were wearing a long dark hooded cloak-like garment. They turned, and wordlessly began walking into the darkness of the woods.
Watching for a moment, Elliot suddenly called after them. "Wait! I'm lost..." He said hopelessly.
The figure stopped and turned its head slightly. "Keep up." He commanded in a deep and distinctly masculine tone.
This was enough to reassure Elliot. This was just a man, not some ghost of beast of the woods. He buckled on the dead man's belt and dashed off after his rescuer, not wanting to be left alone in the darkness.
"I need to find my parents." He said quietly when he had caught up, but the man did not respond. He was tall and his steps were wide and Elliot had to almost trot to keep up with his pace. Eventually he asked again. "Please, can you help me?"
"In the morning." The man replied in a low voice. His tone was short but not angrily so; as though he had an aversion to speaking aloud and wanted the sound to die as soon as it left his lips.
Elliot realized that this was probably smart. Even for someone comfortable in the woods, it would be foolish to try to locate the camp tonight. He knew how worried his family must be, especially if they heard the gunshots.
They walked for almost an hour before the man suddenly stopped. He dropped a pack that Elliot had not realized he had been carrying.
Assuming that this meant they would be staying there, Elliot sat down against a large tree. It was then that he developed the shakes; the type of trembling that can only come from mass amounts of adrenaline leaving the body. It did not help that his clothing was nearly soaked from being pinned on the wet ground and the night had taken a chilly turn.
"What about a fire?" Elliot asked timidly.
"No fire." The man responded. After a moment though, he pulled the cloak off his shoulders and tossed it to Elliot.
The garment was large and heavy. It was made of some kind of fur and felt surprisingly comfortable. When Elliot had adjusted it to a suitable position he tried to get a better look at his rescuer but the tall man was already disappearing into the woods. Elliot did not know where he was going but decided that since he had left his pack and his cloak behind that he would likely be returning.
The surge of adrenaline had now faded and left his limbs feeling heavy and his thoughts sluggish. The warmth of the cloak and feeling of relative safety were enough to carry him off to a fitful sleep in which he was stalked by nightmares about what could have happened.
He awoke with early rays of sun in his eyes. He had to guess that it was not much later than six a.m. The smell of food cooking made his stomach growl loudly. He had not eaten dinner last night before his capture.
There was a very small fire nearby and on a flat rock next to it were small strips of some kind of meat that were sizzling quietly. The smell was wonderful. It had been a very long time since Elliot had had fresh meat. He looked around, wondering where the man had gone. Very soon after, the man just seemed to appear, startling Elliot. Somehow he had moved in absolute silence through the woods and stepped out from the trees almost like a ghost.
In the light of the morning, Elliot was surprised to see that his rescuer was not much more than a boy himself. Where the men he had encountered yesterday had been old, fat, and hairy, this man was young, trim, and handsome. His light brown hair was not long but somewhat shaggy and obviously untended for some time. He wore a black tank top that displayed large arms and seemed to be stretched thin over his lean but broad torso. On his upper right arm was a tattoo in black. It was a symbol of some kind that looked like an arrow pointing up. It was surrounded by a ring of smaller symbols, all of them angular and old-looking. His forest-green cargo pants were tucked into black combat boots. Most startling of all however, was the fact that this man was armed to the teeth.
His belt contained a series of six dart-like knives as well as two strange looking axes, one on either side. Elliot had seen and used hatchets before, but these were different. The head was thin at the base and then widened out to a razor sharp edge. There was an intricate pattern carved into the heads of the axes that reminded Elliot of the Celtic knots that his sister liked to draw.
On either side of his abdomen there was another much longer knife that hung from some sort of harness he wore on his shoulders. Finally, sticking out of his boots were two medium sized blades; larger than the ones at his belt, but smaller than the ones at his side. Elliot sucked in a quiet breath as he took all of this in.
The man looked over at him as if noticing him for the first time, then gestured at the fire.
Standing, Elliot kept an eye on the stranger as he walked over to the fire. He still was not sure if he should be trusting this man or not, but did not seem to have much of a choice. It was too warm out now for the cloak but he carried it over one shoulder. He realized sheepishly that the man must have spent the entire night wearing just a tank top with no fire. Tentatively he held the heavy garment out towards the stranger. The man wordlessly accepted it before sitting down by the fire.
"Um... Thank you for saving me last night." Elliot said awkwardly as the man used one of his knives to pick a piece of meat off the heated rock.
Testing the meat with his teeth, the man just nodded in response. He seemed to find it to his liking because he then took a large bite off of it. He speared another piece and then leaned over, holding it out to Elliot. Elliot tested it with a finger and found that although it was hot, it was not enough to burn him. He took the strip off the blade of the knife and gave a slight nod as thanks.
"I'm Elliot." He said as he chewed on the tender and delicious piece of meat. The man did not respond. "What's your name?" He asked.
The man looked up at him and Elliot noticed that his eyes were a sharp grey-blue color. "Call me Tyr." He said finally.
Elliot frowned at the strange name but then shrugged and nodded. "Okay." He looked down at the strip of meat in his hands. "This is very good. What is it?"
"Rabbit." Tyr responded
They continued to eat in silence until they had their fill. Tyr wrapped the remaining meat in a cloth and put it in one of the pouches of his pack.
"Can you help me find my family?" Elliot asked when the meal was finished. "They're probably super worried about me."
"Where?"
"I'm not totally sure." Elliot admitted sheepishly. "We were camped near the highway."
Tyr took a moment and then nodded. "Go wash first." He pointed off into the woods.
Elliot realized that he was still partially covered in blood from the night before. He did not want to show up back at camp and have his parents think he was bleeding out. Walking in the direction Tyr had pointed he eventually heard the quiet trickling of a stream. He washed his face and arms as best he could in the cold water. There was still a large bloodstain on the back of his shirt but he did not have another to wear. Tyr seemed to know what he was doing. Elliot imagined that with his help he would be able to find his way back without a problem.
When he returned, Tyr had his cloak over one shoulder and his pack over the other. The fire had been put out and Tyr held out a large canteen to him. Elliot gratefully took it and had several mouthfuls of water before they set out on their way.
It was amazing to Elliot how quickly, quietly, and confidently Tyr moved through the woods. He never stopped or slowed, as if he knew the way on instinct.
"Something is wrong." Tyr said suddenly, stopping dead in his tracks. Through the trees, Elliot could see the bright blue of the tent that he was so familiar with. His heart leapt and a giant grin crossed his face.
"Mom! Dad!" He yelled, running forward.
"Wait!" Tyr barked gruffly but Elliot did not stop. He ran out into the clearing of their little camp and into a scene of confusion.
Empty cans of food were scattered everywhere. Trash and pieces of clothing were strewn all about the clearing. Their little shopping cart was upside down near the tree line and there was a big hole cut in the side of the tent. Elliot's breath caught when he saw two bodies in the clearing. He began to tear up as he recognized one of them as Mr. Davis. The other was a stranger who looked like he had met the wrong end of Mr. Davis' shotgun. Movement inside the tent made him freeze.
A pale, scrawny man wearing ragged clothing darted out of the tent and stared wide-eyed at Elliot. Despite his sheltered upbringing, Elliot could see plainly the crazed paranoia on the man's face. The man had ugly looking dark splotches no both of his arms. When he saw Tyr enter the clearing his gaunt face went even whiter and he bolted for the trees.
In a motion so quick that Elliot's eyes could not track it, Tyr casually flicked his wrist and sent one of his tiny knives flying at lightning speed. It struck the man in the back of the calf and he went down with a shriek. Faster than Elliot thought possible, Tyr was beside the man with a heavy boot pressed to the center of his back.
"Where are they?" He asked calmly, applying gentle pressure.
"I don't know nothin'!" The man wailed, trying to wriggle away. As Elliot drew closer he saw that the dark splotches on the man's arms looked fetid and decrepit. He looked away in disgust.
With no notable emotion, Tyr slid on of the axes from his belt and held the blade to the side of the man's neck. "Where are they?" He repeated in the same monotone.
"Killian's boys came through last night." The man said desperately.
Tyr sheathed his axe and took his foot off the man's back. "Go on."
"They was awful sore that someone killed off some of their scouts. They took the three of them and went north." The man looked apologetically up at Tyr. "I'm just looking for leftovers is all."
Tyr extended a hand to help the man up. When the man accepted it though, Tyr whipped him around into a headlock and then twisted his neck violently. With a sickening crack that made Elliot want to vomit, the man went limp.
"Why did you do that!?" Elliot began to cry. The sight of Mr. Davis' body, and the casual way Tyr had just ended the man's life after the man had given him what he wanted was too much for him.
"He was already dead." Tyr indicated the splotches on the man's arms. "It's better this way. I spared him days of agony."
Elliot had not thought of it that way, but it still did not seem right. He turned and knelt by the body of Mr. Davis. His elderly neighbor looked quite peaceful and Elliot saw that in his last moments Mr. Davis had taken the picture of his wife out of his pocket and clutched it to his chest. He hoped, as tears streamed down his face, that they were together somewhere.