Watcher Of The End

He’s just standing there, watching the end, but powerless to do anything about it… because what can you do when nature herself wants you dead?

The corrupted moon floats above the man in an ocean of darkness, red blood oozing out through the slit, coalescing as it hits the ground and giving rise to demons — abominations of nature, bodies contoured in ways that should be impossible and with specks of red luster for eyes. Creatures well equipped to bring about the end.

Nothing lasts forever.

He knew that, but never did he imagine it could happen so… abruptly.

Screams.

The laughter of demons.

He tries to do something other than watch, but the despair is too great… He tries to run, attempts to force his eyelids shut so that he sees not the suffering, but when he does it is as if invisible hands keep him stuck in position, dooming him to remain standing amid the carnage, with wide open, blood-shot eyes.

Just standing there, watching people he’s known all his life be slaughtered like pigs, all the while knowing his own demise is soon to follow. Life is borrowed from nature, and we all have to return to soil one day, of this he is well aware, or at least thought he was, for now when the end has come he cannot stop the feeling of despair from washing over him.

The demon closest to him is done devouring his wife, and now it turns to him instead, smiling. His time has come. The watcher of the end opens his mouth, releasing an awful cry, the scream a man makes when at the bottom of the pits of despair.

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