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All Heroes Fall

Kicking And Screaming

I stand alone on the deck.

It is about 5 o’clock a.m. I couldn’t sleep. I can’t remember the last time I have. The stress, it submerses my soul and threatens to wring the life out of it until all that is left are the droplets of depression and gloom it has taken on as it’s familiar.

It is cold this morning. Temperatures dropping lower and lower. Just as our hope. We all know we’re going to die. It’s no secret. It’s not some mystery we have to solve. It’s not anything, but the truth. And sometimes the truth is more than we can learn to tolerate. Because when we don’t harbor the confidence we need, sometimes false answers are what our souls crave. And if we don’t receive what we crave, we starve ourselves and go hungry for lies and false hopes. Sometimes that’s all we dare to hope for. Because no one wants to fall apart in front of an audience.

As my thoughts wander the clouds clear. The ground below glistens with morning dew and the song of birds rejoicing the come of another day. It seems out of place in the midst of what we’re going to put ourselves through. A familiar structure comes into view and I sigh. If I don’t wake the others and begin our preparations now, we’ll never be half ready. And if you can’t even go half the way, why dare to hope you can go the distance? I walk through the ship to the different cabins and knock on doors and turn on lights for the, “happy campers” I guess you could call them. Funny how none of them are all that happy.

Grumpy faces and the stench of morning breath fill the mess hall. We eat in silence. We know the plan. What needs to be done will be done. No matter what happens. Keep running, don’t look back. The moment you do, you’re dead. Screw that, you’re worse than dead, you’re lunch meat on the sandwich made of blood, guts, and tears.

It’s times like these I begin to wonder about an afterlife. Does one even exist? Or do we just die and . . . and what? Cease to exist? Leave everything behind with nothing to gain? If there is an afterlife, I sure hope it’s better than what this lonely existence we call life is. Because if it’s not, I'm not sure what we're going to do.

It is about 10 o’clock and we stand on the deck, ready with our weapons. All is clear and quiet. Leo steadily guides the ship closer, and closer, and closer. The calm is not calming. It is alarming. If there is an army out there, then they should be readying themselves, sharpening their knives to slit our throats or slice through layers and layers of skin until our heads separate and roll. But there is nothing. Which could only mean one thing.

They know we’re here.

And they are ready for us. A dark cloud approaches the ship. “STEADY!” Jason calls out. I am about to give him a questioning look when the dark cloud grows closer, and morphs into a ball of blazing arrows. We grab our shields or whatever we have and protect ourselves. I look to Percy standing right next to me and take his hand. If we’re going to go out, we’ll go out together.

Might as well go out kicking and screaming too.

Notes

Comments

Really nice story!!!! Great job! Love it!

This story is one of my favourites!! Love it!

Eliza di Angelo Eliza di Angelo
10/2/14

You are good :)

I'm sad it's over.

Ginger Lord Ginger Lord
1/8/14

@TheHellhoundoftheNight

Thank you! And I'll definitely try to update as soon as possible.