The crimson sky hinted toward what I already knew too well, death. Was there no beating these monsters after all? This had been the third attempt, my final attempt, at stopping these brutes… had I failed yet again?
The first world they had devoured, my homeworld, had stood little chance. I watched helplessly as our-otherwise apocalyptic-bombs failed to pierce the hide of their mighty ships. I watched as they mercilessly slaughtered my family and friends as I trivially shot rounds of bullets into their rooted skin. I wept as I looked upon the remnants of my world as I, along with a few other survivors, were beamed away by an unknown source.
The second world-apparently being the ones who had saved us-were a little more prepared. With an armada of our own we stumbled upon confidence we thought we’d never have again. However, our attempts were proven fruitless upon the arrival of their new mantle-powered ships. I once again watched helplessly as they cruised throughout this planet, laying waste to all that fell in their path. What made it worse, I knew the only reason they were able to accomplish this… was that they were using the bones of my home.
Unfortunately, my story didn't end there. As if I were cursed, I was once again teleported to a new world. I yearned for my death, yet it seemed like fate held even more torment for me.
However, as I walked upon the soil of this new planet, I was astonished by how far they had come. Compared to my home, these people were gods. I wouldn’t go as far to say that I had hope, but the warmth of determination flowed through my body.
“ANNORA,” I yelled as I began choking on my own blood. I felt the drumming of my heart slowly receding as I looked at all of the destruction around me. This couldn’t be it. We had almost done it.
Not very long ago I wished for my death, now… now… I COULDN’T DIE! THIS ISN’T FAIR!
“I DON'T CARE IF I HAVE TO CLAW MY WAY UP FROM THE PITS OF HELL,” I screamed out to the emerald devils encircling me, “I WILL RETURN… AND I'LL BECOME A CURSE TO THIS WORLD!”
Silence. I snickered at the thought of what I had said. So cliche, it reminded me of something the main character in some fantasy novel might say. Unfortunately for me, even if I was the main character, I was fixing to die… and there was nothing I could do now to stop it.
Nothing but the steady tap of footsteps filled the air as one slowly approached me. His face gleamed with satisfaction.
Even for his kind, he was underdressed, I admit… in a fashionable way. He had a solid black loincloth embroidered with white fur covering his “private area” if they even had such a thing. Mysterious tattoos covered his emerald and white body. No need to think of the meaning of those… I’m going to die anyway.
But most notably, he had scars littered across his body. Signs of a veteran warrior, or a careless one. Probably a little bit of both thinking of how he fought. Scanning his body, my eyes were drawn to the yellow blood pulsing from his left eye. The wound I had given him just moments before… right after he had gruesomely slain my comrades. It looked to be infected… serves him right.
He knelt right before me. He didn’t need to say anything for me to understand. He was mocking me.
For some reason, I recalled the words I had spoken just moments before with a newfound determination coursing through my bones. Looking at my soon-to-be killer in his dreary black eye I whispered, “Love your family while you have the chance, you’ll all be rotting in hell with me soon.
With that, he slit my throat.
Be it reality, or just my brain forming what it wanted to hear, I heard a familiar female voice cry out as my eyes closed shut.