Month: July 2015

Fiction: Of The Night

There are moments at night unknown to us men, when time freezes for an eternity and something else takes reign over the elements and fates, something dark and mysterious to the knowledge of man but I have seen it. How this happened I do not know, all I do know is my life has never been the same again. I have come to dread the night for it brings with it my hunters, those who have been dedicated to ending my very existence for this perceived misstep they believe I made. Now I am forced to fight, for almost endless nights I face these creatures of an unknown world, battling for my own survival. There have been nights where giving up has been at the forefront of my thoughts as the hour approaches, to end these battles and embrace this death that I seem to continuously postpone.

I curse the day I stumbled upon this world, the day I was discovered as not being of that unknown and unspoken world. It has robbed me of all forms of normalcy I once boasted of, ripping me away from family and friends, leaving me without the normal routine I was meant to embrace as I grew up. Now I am forced to hide while the people who care for me have searched me out hopelessly wondering what has become of me. I am sure I would be endangering them the minute I am honest with them about what has been happening to me over the past 4 years. I remember trying to tell my older brother about the attack when I had managed to fend off attacks for a fifth time, he really didn’t believe me but something just felt weird after I told him, by night fall on the same day I knew I had made a big mistake, the attacks were stronger and they didn’t seem to come for me alone, fighting off these creatures as they tried to take me and my brother away was far worse than fighting them off merely because I wanted to live, I would never have been able to live with myself had they succeeded that night. To him it was merely a terrible nightmare and my heart sank as I watched him hug his bible closer every night for the next 2 weeks, I overheard his hushed whisper as he prayed so hard for Angels to come and watch over him, what he didn’t know was that for those two weeks I was the one who watched over him, battling these creatures that were so hell bent on taking him all because of me.

I remember the last night they tried to come for him, how after a terrible fight I had screamed through blood and tears in another tongue I never knew I could speak before that moment “He knows nothing of us!!!”. Even they froze in shock, staring at me through their unimaginable eyes, somehow I had managed to learn their tongue because the next words I heard were crystal clear and understood by me; “You are still not safe….Mazael…your brother will outlive you..”. They had even given me a name, or was that what they called my kind? There was no fight that night, they merely lurked in the darkness watching me, probably observing me, maybe wondering where my weaknesses lay. The battles soon resumed days later but at least they no longer bothered my brother.

Mazael…they knew me..or whatever it was that name meant- they knew my kind- for I have no other explanation as to how I have been able to see them or fight them. Why they seek to hunt me and destroy me is still a mystery to me. I accept I have always been different, not particularly bright but different, seeing things almost everyone around me did not. Physically I grew different, having a higher threshold for pain and an unexplainable increase in strength whenever I felt threatened. It might read like I’m some sort of super human being but considering the things I have faced and the life I have been forced to live it feels nothing like that. The creatures; vile, horrid eyes, burning sulphuric breaths and grotesque postures still haunt me long after I have vanquished them.

Nothing in my dreams or visions has been revealed to me about my true nature, all I know is that I dread the night. It’s approach brings the dread of death and the unknown here after, abandoning my family feels like I have blessed them with a longer stay in this world, yet again I fear they might be sought in reprisal.


Day 09: Survival

Jeremiah's Scribbles

I asked @griffinstreaks for something bodied with gore

And he gave me something that will make writers of The Walking Dead jealous

So beautiful.


‘Society’s survival is not based on decency or morality but on what
the collective is willing to agree on as being acceptable.’

-Teniola Soyebo


I lie on my back in the black
charred dirt staring at my hands,
covered in charcoal and blood, the chill around me grows stronger as night creeps into
everything. My belly is full from the dinner we just tore through by the fire place and for a few moments my mind wonders to the hour preceding this very moment. My eyes flutte in both shock and satisfaction as a part
of me that used to be so human
recalls when what has just
occurred was considered unthinkable. I lift my hand up to my face and feel around my…

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