I don’t know what city I was in, only that General Sherman had not yet reached it. And even if he had, his destruction would never have been so total or so wanton.
I started at the northern edge of the city, and I worked my way around the perimeter. The place was absent of corpses. All the trappings of life had been removed. It was as though the entire city had been emptied prior to its destruction, but I found it strange that not even a dog could be found wandering about.
Over the course of several hours, I explored the town, finally coming to its center sometime after noon, and it was then that I found someone.
He was a teenager by the sight of him, sitting alone on the wreckage of what must have been a church or some hall. His face was pale, his eyes wide, and he stared at me. Not with fear or surprise, but with that dazed expression seen only on those who have borne witness to the horrors of war for too long.
I approached him with caution, fully aware that he might lash out in madness. When I was a few feet away, he blinked several times and looked at me, realizing another person was there before him.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What happened here?”
He looked around at the destruction, and tears filled his eyes. “They came.”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “But they killed every living creature. They ate them all, too. They crawled through the streets and drank the spilled they had spilled.”
“Why didn’t they kill you?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was hoarse, and the tears spilled down his cheeks, cutting a path through the dust and grime on his face. He blinked several times and whispered, “I don’t want to know.”
He looked at me, his eyes wide and filled with terror. “I don’t want to remember.”
I nodded and blew his brains out.
As the echo of the Colt faded, I shook my head. Sometimes, mercy is a burden.
#horror #monsters #supernatural #skulls #death #fear #evil #horrorobsessed #scary #paranormal
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