Echoes of the Failed Rapture

Darkness. It shifts around me, like a sandy clay that's packed tightly. Am I dead? I cannot breath, but it doesn't seem to matter. I move my arm, and the darkness around me moves and fills the void my arm left. I keep moving my body, each part slowly to see whether this darkness is finite. Yet how long have I struggled? Hours? Days? I have this horrible headache too. Wait, wasn't I shot in the head? No, no, I must not think. Just push forward. I can reflect later. Move your toes, your fingers, inch your elbows and knees, curve your spine back and forth, shift your chin, thrust your hips, push out of this… whatever this stuff is.

"Is that… light?" I find myself saying out loud to myself. Light in a void is greatly appreciated, though it is an eerie green. So I reach out and push the darkness away, and I crawl out of the black… and I fall to my knees. I was buried beneath ash, a mound of it. The sun is green, and almost feels like it is giving me an Eldritch stare. This is my home city, I can see the tallest building… now on its side and mostly rubble. So many buildings like it. And ash around as far as my eyes can see.

I try to stand, but my legs are weak. The world around me feels surreal, like a twisted nightmare I can't wake from. My mind reels, struggling to piece together what happened. The last thing I remember is the heat of the desert sun, the sand beneath my boots, the chaos of battle, and then... nothing. A sharp pain, and darkness. Was I dead? Am I dead now?

As I rise, the weight of the ash clinging to my clothes, I look down at my hands. They seem… fine. No signs of injury, no blood, just ash-covered skin. I reach up and touch my forehead where I remember the bullet hitting. My fingers find a smooth surface, and then a slight indentation, like a healed wound. A tattoo? I trace its lines, feeling the strange, unfamiliar pattern etched into my skin.

I look around again, trying to make sense of this devastated landscape. The city is unrecognizable, a graveyard of what it once was. Buildings lie in ruin, streets are buried under thick layers of ash, and the eerie green light from the sun casts long, twisted shadows. I see no signs of life. No people. Just an oppressive, haunting silence.

Stumbling forward, I try to find my bearings. The ash crunches under my boots, and every step feels like an effort. I head towards what used to be the main street, hoping to find some clue, some sign of what happened. As I move, I notice that the ash seems to cling to me, as if alive, trying to pull me back down into the darkness.

"What the hell happened here?" I mutter to myself, the sound of my voice strangely comforting in the desolate silence. I keep walking, driven by a desperate need to understand, to find answers.

I pass the remnants of familiar landmarks. The coffee shop where I used to get my morning fix is now a pile of rubble. The park where kids used to play is a barren wasteland. Everything is covered in that thick, suffocating ash.

As I turn a corner, I see something that makes me stop in my tracks. A figure, hunched and shrouded in shadow, standing in the middle of the street. For a moment, hope flares in my chest. Another survivor? But as I get closer, I realize something is terribly wrong. The figure is too still, too unnatural. Its head slowly turns towards me, and I see eyes that burn with an unnatural light.

A chill runs down my spine as the figure steps forward, revealing its grotesque form. It's not human, not anymore. Its skin is a mottled grey, and its limbs are twisted and elongated. It opens its mouth, and a low, guttural growl escapes.

I take a step back, my instincts screaming at me to run. But my legs feel like lead, and the creature lunges at me with terrifying speed. I barely manage to dodge, falling to the ground as its claws swipe through the air where I was standing moments before.

Scrambling to my feet, I grab a piece of rubble and swing it at the creature. It hits with a sickening thud, and the creature reels back, more out of surprise than pain. Taking advantage of its momentary confusion, I turn and run, my heart pounding in my chest.

I don't stop running until my lungs burn and my legs threaten to give out. I duck into an alley, pressing myself against the wall, trying to catch my breath. The creature didn't follow, but the encounter has left me shaken.

What was that thing? A zombie? Whatever it was… dammit. I should keep moving anyway. I don't know how I woke up back home, how my wounds healed, and what the world has come to. Answers can wait though.

Heart pounding, I force myself to calm down, to focus. I can't afford to panic, not now. I need to find shelter, to regroup, to figure out what the hell is going on.

Gripping the piece of rubble tightly, I cautiously peer out of the alley. The street is empty now, the creature nowhere in sight. But I know it's out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for another opportunity to strike.

I take a deep breath and steel myself, knowing that I can't stay here forever. With a final glance around the desolate alley, I steel myself and step out into the ash-covered streets once more.

As I make my way through the silent city, every sound sets my nerves on edge. Every shadow seems to hide some new horror. But I push forward, driven by a fierce determination to survive.

I don't know what happened to the world, or why I'm here now. But I won't let fear or uncertainty hold me back. I'll find answers, no matter what it takes.

With that resolve burning in my chest, I continue on into the unknown, ready to face whatever horrors this twisted new world has in store.