Artistic Science

end-of-necrosis:

writing-prompt-s:

A sorceress comes to your kingdom and says, “In three days, I shall bring my army to your kingdom and conquer it. But be warned, whatever technology or people you use to defend yourself, we will use to attack you.”

And so I sat there, awaiting my demise. The stone of my last bastion surrounded me, crumbling, flaking, all but lost to the ravages of time. Yet I am not scared, of course not. I have lived a long life, I have done more than I ever could have dreamed but not it was all coming to a close. I expected it to happen just a lot sooner than it did. 

The Sorceress was coming, her stride long and powerful as it was when she came three days before, her army behind her, banners in the wind but as she entered my throne room, she was confused, her brows furrowed tightly as she stood at the end of the hall, wan daylight making a halo of her head, blurring the details of her face. “What nonsense is this, you mad old fool? Where are your soldiers, your cannon, your people?! Did you think I would just let you surrender? I came here to kill and conquer, not to be handed the kingdom freely.”

I went to speak to her but a coughing fit interrupted my words and it took a few moments before I responded. “I don’t give in, Sorceress, I don’t surrender. That’s the thing though… I know about your magic.” I wheezed with a chuckle, pushing my body up, old bones protesting. I took the scepter of my office and with its help I walked down the dais towards her, the click of gold on stone loud in the echoing hall. “An oath and it is binding but you made a mistake with your wording. Any people or technology I use to defend myself you will use against me. If I use none, then there is nothing to attack me with.” I told her with a grin and her eyes narrowed.

The witch stormed towards me with the slap of bare feet and grabbed the front of my suit, bunching it up in her fists and pulling me close with more strength than I thought she had in that lithe frame of hers. “What is the secret, old man? What trap do you have planned?” She hissed, her breath smelling of garlic and blood.

“Not a trap but a trick, my friend. After all, what about technology you already possess?” My words didn’t tip her off enough, good. She staggered back and looked down at the hilt of my dagger, ornate, bejeweled and rammed deep into her chest under her ribs. She coughed and looked up at me in perfect time for my scepter to crack across her jaw, sending her to the ground where she bled out.

“I used no people for you to attack me with and technology you already possess… The oath is fulfilled.” I told her corpse before shambling back to my throne. Bloody mages were always too confident.

(via end-of-necrosis)

The Colour of Whispers

end-of-necrosis:

Long feet, more like stilts than anything, contacting the floor. As each struck, a little flair of light burst forwards, pink and yellow sparkles, illuminating the floor that didn’t truly exist. This world was darkness after all, light was rare but Moodswing didn’t mind that, she could make her own light especially during this time. Her body shone a soft orange and yellow as the flames of happiness burned through her. She hadn’t been this way before, it was off the usual trail and deep within a series of not-corridors, ones that lived only temporarily, walls that may or may not bar progress but things were going well. It was always odd living in this place where darkness ruled, she remembered back to the lights in the distance she had seen earlier, flitting, shifting, dancing and finally fading… They always faded in the end, nothing lasted forever after all but why dwell on that?

The colours of happiness around Moodswing’s arms and legs faded, turning transparent as she realised that there was something wrong, darkness settled in closer, a blanket wrapping around her. What had went wrong? Everything looked normal and she shook her head, letting out a soft sigh. ’…Sigh…’. No sound but the word drifted before her, a gentle blue against the darkness and it faded away. Moodswing blinked a few times, trying to be sure that she had actually seen such a thing. She stepped forwards into the darkness, another little burst of light but it was darker this time and there was no sound of her stilt hitting the floor. Glowing eyes flicked down and saw the last remnants of ‘click’ floating away into the darkness, disappearing from sight. Silence. That was the problem; this whole place was entirely silent, there was no sense of her breathing, no sense of her body’s rhythms, nothing.

The creature paused and crossed her eyes, staring down her nose to look at the end of her muzzle, sure enough there were little yellow ‘huff, huff, huff’s leaving her as she breathed, fading away almost instantly. Her paw came up to her mouth, attempting to catch the words but they danced between her claws like smoke. This was certainly odd, she’d never experienced this before. Scanning around she took a few steps back and almost instantly sound came back to her; the sound of her faster breathing, the clicking of her feet against the floor. “What…?” She mumbled before looking forwards into the darkness. There was nothing marking out the different nature but her curiosity was flaring up, the lights returning to her hands. It was time to delve into the silence and see what was causing it.

It didn’t take too long to find another that stood within it. The little lights of their sounds burst in the distance, small 'Tick’s, 'Tack’s and 'Shhffff’s that faded almost instantly. There were many though and she quietened herself, crouching down and crawling forwards to get a better look at what was causing the noises. Standing there, barely moving, was a tall creature, almost twice the height of Moodswing. It looked hooded and cloaked although it was entirely lined in dark blue, the rest was black, making it seem almost like a skeleton of a cloak. Poking out of the hood was a long, hound-like snout and that was definitely skeletal, nothing soft about it. Fingers like twigs reaching out from a fold of the cloak and were holding something that glowed a gleaming green, a long rod that it was tapping and tacking against the wall that existed just before it, each touch leaving a small green mark and a flash of a word, a noise, as it fluttered away from the touch of the rod against the wall. It stopped a few moments later and the creature of dark blue leaned in, staring at the wall for a few moments before a long, 'siiiiigh’, left it. 'Another attempt… Never so pretty… I hope I done well enough…’ The words appeared around the thing’s head, as though written in the air by the quickest pen and then wiped away just as fast, no trace of them left. She couldn’t tell but Moodswing got the distinct impression this creature was male and she stepped closer before letting out a soft…

'Hello…’

The tall, hooded figure turned and looked directly at her, the light of the word briefly illuminated his face, long, dog-like, all bone with sharp, glass-like eyes and forward curving horns of black glass framing the top of his skull. In a way, Moodswing thought he looked utterly terrifying and her light started to fade, this was a terrible idea and she was soon about to run until she realised that the other creature had already backed up and hunkered lower, watching her closely, the sounds around its mouth a rapid series of 'pant, pant, pant’s. Was it scared of her? She stopped herself and stepped forwards and the other one stepped back, his cloak letting out a few dark blue 'shff’s as it shifted against the floor. 'I… I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to! I won’t hurt you.’ She tried to tell the other being and he paused, looking at her, scanning the words that flared up around her head, a sweet buttercup yellow that dissolved into sparkles. They seemed to ease him and he stood up, walking closer to her and looking down, the hand holding the green rod disappearing into his robe and returning empty.

'I get scared easily, I do apologise. My name is Fear, what is yours?’ He asked her, holding out a long, clawed hand, all the little bones outlined in dark blue, looking as though they were connected by nothing at all.

'Moodswing… My name is Moodswing. What is going on here?’ The smaller creature asked, taking his hand and giving it a small shake, her other gesturing to the words around her that turned to a dark green as she spoke.

'No noise can be made around me, only colour. It’s part of who I am and I’m sorry for that. I don’t have much colour myself you see so I need to make it… I’m getting better…’ His words started amber and swiftly grew into a dark blue as he spoke, gesturing towards the wall. Moodswing turned and looked at it, noticing all of the markings scrawled along the wall, crude pictures of many things in many different colours. She could recognise some of them, lights and creatures that she had seen before on her travels. Reaching up she touched the wall, a brighter burst of colour illuminating what she couldn’t see, showing the dozens, no, hundreds of other pictures that were coating the walls, some at the absolute extent that Fear should have been able to reach.

'You must have been here for so long… Is this all you’ve been doing, drawing?’ She queried, the green of her words pulsing softly into a light blue as she turned back to look at him.

'Some of us are born with skill, some of us must learn it. I want to ensure that I am amazing before I go. After all, I am not just doing this for myself… I have a purpose to this…’ He trailed off, his words staying a dark blue and he hung his head for a moment before looking at her. 'I get each traveler I meet to draw me a picture so that I can see their skill and so that they can understand why I do this… Would you like to draw a picture for me, Moodswing? It can be anything you can think of, no matter how terrible, I will enjoy it.’ He told her.

The small creature thought about it and slowly her light returned to her, flaring through her body and she nodded. 'I would love to, it sounds like fun! I’ve never really tried to draw anything before but I want to try!’ Her words flared a bright yellow and Fear nodded a few times, little yellow 'Heh, heh, heh’s fluttering from his mouth.

'Then hold out your hand, little Moodswing. I will give you a piece of chalk to let you draw on these walls. Did you know, if you mark them they stay forever until the mark is removed? They only stop existing when we have no proof of them. Fascinating, isn’t it?’ His colours, those of his words, lightened as he spoke, soft sparkles of yellow visible through them. Moodswing smiled and held out her hand towards Fear. The taller, hooded beast reached into the darkness of his robes and a small series of 'clink’s flitted out from under it. When he withdrew his hand, the rod he held this time was bright yellow; chalk, she recalled him calling it. 'This chalk is very special and you will see why… And why I do this…’

He reached out and put the chalk in her hand, closing her fingers over it and removing his own hands. The moment he did she had a flash through her mind; another creature, this one a gleaming, beautiful sunshine yellow. It danced through fields of green, small chubby legs hopping it forwards, a serpent-like tail with a ball of fluff on the end helping it to keep balance as it leaped around, searching for new and exciting things with the small claws on its arms, a mane of fluff around its neck and brilliant, large eyes scanning around. The image faded quickly and she looked down to the chalk… It was the same colour. This chalk was the last remnant of that creature and she looked up into Fear’s eyes. The words he spoke were the deepest blue, almost impossible to see.

'A joy… Wonderful little things, always so happy. Sometimes they don’t understand danger. I find their chalk the least, few want to attack something so precious. I make sure to draw them when I can, I want to honour their memory… All of their memories…’ He looked back across the wall and then nodded before gesturing towards it. 'Draw, Moodswing, let me see what memory you want to preserve.’

Moodswing didn’t really have anything to say in return to that and she looked towards the wall. It took a few moments of thinking before she started to draw. The little 'tick’s and 'tack’s of her chalk were joined soon after by Fear as he focused on his own drawings, leaning in close to make sure that he could see what he was drawing. The chalk he held was bright pink and it finalised her idea. It took a while, a lot longer than it took Fear to do even three of his own cruder drawings but eventually she stepped back and gently tugged on the larger creature’s cloak.

Fear paused and looked to her before looking to the wall. He stepped closer and reached up, pressing the tips of his fingers next to the drawing. A pair of Joys, sitting together, one resting on the other, eyes closed as the other gazed upwards towards a series of yellow sparkles. The detail was fine, down to the fluff around their necks. It was many minutes before Fear spoke and his words were a stunning rose pink, flecked with dark blue. 'It’s beautiful, Moodswing… You have true talent. That much I can see. This would honour that Joy’s memory, I am more than certain of it. Take that piece with you on your travels and if you find others… Well… You don’t need to listen to an old fool like me, but please draw a little picture for each of them? Just in case I cannot finish my work.’ He told her, reaching out and resting his hand atop her head, gently ruffling the fur there.

'I’ll… I’ll do my best, Fear, okay? Or if anything, I’ll leave them in a little pouch for you to find so you can continue your work.’ She smiled up to him, her words yellow.

'Thank you, little Moodswing. I’ll be at this forever but in a way, I don’t really mind, if I must leave my mark on only these walls then I shall. Now run along, I don’t want to keep you forever, you’ll find new friends, new memories. Whatever you leave your mark on this place after all… It stays forever.’ He nodded and chuckled again. Moodswing nodded and ran off, the lights returning to her, flaring up inside her body as her happiness came back. She might go and visit Fear again, see how his drawings were getting along. As she ran and finally broke free of the other side of the silence, all of the noises coming back to her, she remembered one thing in particular; when Fear handed her the chalk, there were clinks from inside the robes, the sound of chalk on chalk, each stick a representation of an emotion that had died and he would draw a perfect memory of, each one causing a flash of their memory in one’s mind… Each clink a being, much like herself…

…And there had been hundreds of them.

end-of-necrosis:

writing-prompt-s:

After running away and getting lost in the woods, a misleadingly terrifying looking monster has tea with you.

Her heart hammered frantically as she stood there, grass under socked feet and a chill wind drifted through the shadowed grove. Green eyes snapped around with near frenzied abandon, snapping to the darkness on occasion if she thought she saw something move. How did she get here? She… She didn’t remember how she got here, she was sleeping in her bed nice and sound, Lord Fluffster was beside her and then… Cold. She had woken up here in the darkness, pale moonlight fluttering down between the dense leaves to give her the tiniest amount of light. Her breath hitched and she dropped to her knees, looking around, hands lashing out before she felt fake fur and pulled her stuffed platypus into her arms. A deep shudder ran through her and she buried her face into Lord Fluffster, sniffling for a few moments.

A sound disrupted her maudlin and her head snapped up, black hair flying up and away from her face. This time when her eyes alighted on the darkness it wasn’t nothing that she saw. There was something there. That something was oily and large but it was crouched low, seeping into the ground and shadows like liquid and it was making a noise, it sounded like static but was deeper, vibrating the air in her lungs. When it shifted, the shine on its body moved across its body and more of its spindly form emerged; long and sinuous and dripping a tar-like fluid. It seemed to be regarding her but she couldn’t see any eyes, not that she looked at it for too long as the moment it moved she scrambled to her feet and turned, bolting deeper into the woods around her.

Behind her the buzzing grew louder, building to a crescendo before falling entirely silent. She could only hear the quiet touches of leaves and snapping twigs to indicate that the beast was still following her, hunting her through the midnight. Her breath was fast and she pushed her legs as hard as she could to try and stay ahead of it, she was too scared to turn around to find out how close it was, all she could do was run and hold her platypus as tightly as she could. The forest didn’t seem to end though, more trees passed by and nothing changed, in fact, she was sure that she had passed by the same few locations multiple times now, trees with strange markings carved in them.

Then everything went wrong. She dropped Lord Fluffster and couldn’t stop immediately, her instincts forcing her to look down and miss a tree root sticking out of the ground. She slammed into it and was tossed forward, impacting the ground with a dull thud and a whimper, pain radiating from her ankle, her hair covering her face. She could only hear the creature come closer, the static noise starting up again, close, incredibly close. The young girl sat up and attempted to stand but her ankle gave way and she dropped again, curling up into a ball and sobbing. Tears streamed from her eyes and she shivered and sniffled on the ground, so worried about what was going to happen.

The noise of the creature died down, silence returning in a few moments and the girl stopped crying. She swallowed and brushed the hair out of her face, sitting up and looking around. The first thing she noticed was Lord Fluffster, nestled between two roots, sitting up. She reached out and snatched him up, holding him close and sniffing his familiar scent. The next thing was the shadow beast. The sight of it startled her, causing her to flinch and wince as the pain spiked through her leg but it wasn’t attacking her, it was just sitting there, like some grossly distended and stretched puppy. A long spiked snout watched her, a pair of tiny, tiny white gems sitting at the top of it seemed to be its eyes. After a few seconds of staring it tried to move forwards and she squealed causing it to stop immediately and sit back down, cocking its head to the side.

“A-A… Are you gonna hurt me?” She mumbled, chewing on her lip after a few more moments, confident it wasn’t going to try and attack her. The beast’s head flopped to the other side and it shook its head, sending a few splatters of black fluid around. It then lifted a long, stick thin arm and pointed with a claw to the platypus she was holding. Turning it around she noticed two small black stains on it; the thing had put Lord Fluffster against the tree within her reach. Maybe it didn’t want to kill her.

“I got lost here and I hurt my ankle.” The thing of oil nodded and started walking towards her. This time she didn’t shy away and it reached out, picking her up with both of its front legs, surprisingly gently and nestled her against its chest which didn’t drip with the same fluid. It was oddly cold with metallic scales and the creature moved deeper into the woods, taking a specific path around the marked trees.

Light flooded them both and she looked to what was generating it; a cottage. It was small and made of wood with warm orange light pouring out of the windows. A long metal tail came around and opened the door, the creature needing to crouch to get in. It was warm inside, a fire burning in a hearth and it put her down in front of her, placing a blanket over her that was only slightly stained with the liquid before it moved away but the clicking of its claws on the wood let her know it was still close.

“My name’s Laura… Do you have a name?” She asked it and the clicking paused before static buzzed out into the building for a few seconds. “I don’t really understand… All I hear when you talk is static or buzzing, it’s really loud. Is that you trying to talk?”

She got no response and just sat there, enjoying the warmth and resting her leg. When the creature came back it put down a mug of hot chocolate and sat next to her. After a few minutes it reached around to the side of the fire and pulled out a sheaf of papers and then started writing with its finger, the tar it secreted acting almost like ink and surprisingly, it wrote in English.

‘My name is George. I came here a long time ago but I don’t remember how. Other people come here and I don’t know how but they don’t stay long, they always disappear. Some people can understand me, it’s a good thing I know how to write, isn’t it?’ A few blurts of static left it, almost like a laugh.

“Yeah! You’re scary looking though, I thought you were trying to hurt me. Were you trying to make me feel better when you first buzzed at me?” Laura asked him, rubbing her toy’s back.

‘Yes. I was trying to say to not be scared that I won’t hurt you. I know I look scary. I didn’t when I first came here but slowly my body was transmuted into this.’ His head drooped as though sad.

“It’s okay, you’re not that scary now… Uhm… I’m not sure what that means though.” The young girl reached out and pointed at the word 'Transmuted’ before taking a sip of her hot chocolate. It was surprisingly good.

'Altered or changed, I was a person like you before but I changed into this. It’s why I’m glad others leave, so they don’t need to. Sometimes I find things I need, maybe people send them to me?’ He looked at the paper for a few moments, tapping it with his claw before deciding he was done and writing a question mark.

“Is it lonely here, without anyone else?”

'It’s not so bad, people come here on occasion, most of them just think it’s a nightmare but this place is real. I send them home and find ways to amuse myself, like marking trees or making my house bigger.’

“I wish I could stay for longer or send you things to make you feel better. You’re nice and it’s not fair that you’re alone.” She sounded quite sad and slumped slightly. George reached over to her and gently scratched the top of her head.

'I will survive, it’s not that bad here. It’s quiet and peaceful. If you find a way to send me things though, perhaps some clothing? A nice pink shirt to keep me warm.’ He wrote, drawing a small doodle alongside of it, not done too well, of his monstrous form in a top too big for him with a silly smile on his face.

It got a giggle from Laura and she looked up to see George sticking the tip of a long, serpentine tongue out, causing her to laugh again and nod. “I’ll get you lots of different colours and a hat too! You wouldn’t be so scary with a hat, like this.” She reached out and dragged her finger across his oil, using it to draw a small bauble hat on his doodle. It was followed by a burst of static and George nodded multiple times.

'I would like that a lot! Now finish your hot chocolate, Laura, I think it’s time for you to go soon.’

She let out a long 'aww’ and drank down a good part of her drink before shuffling over and giving George a quick hug. “It was really nice meeting you, George, thank you for the hot chocolate and carrying me here.”

'You are quite welcome, Laura, it was nice talking to you. I hope you manage to send me that shirt.’ He told her, returning the hug with one arm and letting out a quiet buzz.

The young girl could definitely feel the world growing dimmer and she knew she was heading back but she didn’t want George to forget her. “I’ll do my best but in case I don’t…” She reached down and pulled her socks off, bright pink with small cats on them and handed them to him. “…You like pink and you might get cold feet! They’re small but they might help.” She told him and faded just as she saw the words 'Thank you’ being written.

Laura woke up and looked around the room, everything was normal, nothing had changed. Lord Fluffster was where he was supposed to be and there were no black marks on him. Had meeting George really just been a nightmare? She furrowed her eyebrows and got up to go to the toilet before realising how cold the floor was. Her eyes scanned down and she noticed her lack of socks… She never went to bed without socks. A smile crossed her face, George was going to need more clothes than just socks.

(via end-of-necrosis)

end-of-necrosis:

writing-prompt-s:

There are no new souls in the world. Every soul is from a huge cycle of souls being reincarnated between Heaven, Earth, or Hell. Do good, you go to Heaven; do bad, you go to Hell; do equal good and bad; back to Earth.

TW: Suicide, death, just in case, not in detail.

They found the secret a long time ago; the secret to the after. People had always wondered that, hadn’t they? What happens after you die? Is there a soul? Well they found it, indeed they did. Almost as precisely as the religions had called it; good deeds sent you to paradise, a glorious beyond, all that you could wish for while bad deeds left you with nothing but regret and punishment for eternity. What about those there were neither though? Those that were neutral or didn’t last long enough to do good or evil?

Turns out they come back, or came back should I say because no one comes back anymore. Reborn anew they were, a great stream of souls coming into the world and then fading out of it, those deemed worthy or evil taken out of it, they found that secret a long time ago, someone came back with memories of the after, then many people and by then it couldn’t be ignored. Good deeds skyrocketed, the world became a utopia as peace was settled and all came together in harmony. They didn’t try and stop death anymore, why bother? All you had to do was be good until you died and you’d be sent somewhere better, there was no need for medical advances anymore, illnesses were treated as a good thing, funerals were celebrations! Envy was of the dead, not the living, everyone eagerly awaiting the time they were snatched away and sent to the great beyond.

I wish the problem had been more obvious back then than it is now but then again, maybe they didn’t know the truth? That stream of souls was finite it turns out, no new souls were added to it, it didn’t get replenished, once one was taken out that was it. So eventually the population declined, sharply too, still there were celebrations, each death was good it meant that everyone would go to paradise and could see each other again, life went on as normal even as the numbers dwindled, thousands turned to hundreds, hundreds to tens, tens to me. The last. No one thought about what happened to the last soul, they probably thought that the good they done would be enough to send them on but I was young when the last person died, I didn’t have time to do any good or enough good anyway. I was left behind, an empty world just for me.

At first it wasn’t so bad, I couldn’t do anything I wanted because I worried about consequences, maybe I had done enough to get me to heaven but I could eat what I liked, slept for as long as I wanted, I didn’t need to do anything but what I wanted. My first death was an accident. I tripped down my stairs one morning. Not a noble death I know but people have died in worse ways, I had been on my own for around eight years by that point. I didn’t die though, I woke up again at the bottom of the stairs, flat on my back. Sitting up I remember looking around and seeing droplets of blood, still wet but I was fine, there were no injuries. I rationalised it to myself that I had a cut on my head I just couldn’t find or had stopped bleeding because I’d knocked myself out for a few minutes.

It didn’t fully click until I died again.

I remember the ceiling of my kitchen staring back at me but it was blackened and scorched. I remember sitting up and looking around at the annihilated remains of my kitchen, I wasn’t sure what had happened but I suspect it was my gas stove, old thing, had finally given up after three decades, I didn’t know how to service or change it after all. I was naked and stumbled out of the wreckage of my burned home, not that it really mattered to be honest, I had already stashed my valuables away, those with sentimental value as nothing had monetary value in my world now, and I went into another home to wash and get clothes. It came to me when I saw myself in the mirror; I was younger, maybe only twenty four. Before I woke up on the kitchen floor I was in my forties but I’d been too neutral. The time at the stairs wasn’t a bad fall; I’d killed myself and came back to life because I was stuck on earth. The foundations of life and death couldn’t put me in a new body because there weren’t any so they rebuilt my own at its prime and brought me back.

I spent decades in despair after that although I don’t really remember most of it. I tried killing myself after my fourth century, just to see if it was evil and would send me somewhere other than my desolate world. There were no animals anymore, their souls were gone I assumed, there was just me, the only living being left. No luck, I woke up surrounded by blood, clutching cold steel in my hand, the barrel of the gun had cooled. It always seems to take a few minutes for me to come back, sometimes a couple of hours if the way I die is particularly bad. I always wake up in my prime, unscathed, with a full stomach, prolonging my life.

I remember breaking for a while, scratching ‘Let me die’ everywhere I could but it didn’t change anything, I got over that. Started committing suicide when things got real bad, brought everything back into focus. I wrote in journals and notebooks but now they’re all gone, rotted away, almost everything has rotted away, the strongest of rock still stays, my flesh stays, my clothes did not, neither did paper or food, it’s hard to stay alive for too long now but I’m still barely cultivating vegetables to keep myself going and water isn’t too hard to come by.

Sorry, got distracted, scratching all of my thoughts out helps keep me sane, feels like a conversation after a while. Pretty sure I can’t actually talk anymore, pretty sure I don’t want to.

You lose track of time after a while when you’re immortal. You get a daily schedule going to the point that you zone out and nothing else matters. There’s no electricity, there’s nothing to really amuse me anymore so I sleep, I eat, I tend to my plants and I go back to sleep, day in and day out. Occasionally I die but that’s routine now, need to do it if I get sick or if I hurt myself some how, there’s no medicine after all but death is the best medicine for me.

I know I spent some time traveling the world a long time ago, checking to see if there was anyone else left that I could do a good or evil deed to, even an animal! There was nothing though, all of it was gone and I came back to where I started, a dead paradise, forgotten by everything but time and myself. When my paper faded I started using rock and chalk I found, scratching or marking the ground, making little shelters so that the rain wouldn’t wash away my hard work, a lot of it is gone though, the winds eroded it all away. I got to watch that, wind erosion is fascinating, being able to mark its progress across thousands upon tens of thousands of years was interesting. Now I write my last moments, an obituary as it were although only I can read it.

The last light in the sky went dark a few hours ago, pretty sure that means I’m not going to last too long, my star has grown so large now, bright and red in the sky. It’s beautiful, I have to say but I know what it means, I wasn’t entirely ignorant back then. This world is going to be gone soon and hopefully I’ll go with it. Any day now it’s going to expand, any day now everything I am, everything I have ever done will be gone and I couldn’t be happier. I find myself smiling as I realise this.

I’m dying frequently now, only able to scratch out a few words before the heat takes me again. I don’t mind. The red consumes the sky, like blood in water and if I could cry I would cry with joy. I write now only because I hate being without an ending. So here it is.

I am the Last. The one that sits at the edge of infinity.

I do not feel fear, I do not feel despair.

I just want it all to end.

Goodb

(via end-of-necrosis)