The Last Flower on Earth

Wind and Ice

The wind blows the car off the road and into a light post.

The two of us sit dazed in our seats as a blizzard forms before our eyes. The whistling wind kicks the snow into the air and flings it towards us like a speeding bullet.

I exit the vehicle and brace myself as the wind could effortlessly bring me to the ground if I'm not careful. Emma looks back to see me grabbing my bags, Emma rushes out to grab hers. The arena is just a little bit ahead, almost visible. We slowly make our way to the doors which feel infinitely far away as we are pelted with ice and small debris.

The building has a sunken door and large eaves, giving the two of us comfort from the storm. We take a breather before I attempt to break the glass, I throw myself at the window only to bounce off as if it was made of rubber.

Emma takes one of her knives and places the tip up to a window, she forms a fist and hammers the back end, cracking the glass. She repeats the motion until she could elbow through it. I follow her inside.

I place my bags on the ground and collapse from exhaustion, Emma sits in front of me, equally tired. We slip the filtering fabric from our faces and breathe, I tell myself that it's worth it, that this journey we're on is truly worth it.

"Let's find a tarp, we can use those dead potted trees to hold it up and the decorative stones beside them to give us space under it. I packed some blankets for us to lie on." I say while standing myself up, Emma was already on her feet and ready to move again. We begin brainstorming ideas on where a tarp would be in a hockey arena.

By the time I notice that Emma has run off to start searching she has already come back with some information. "I found a map of the entire arena, we could probably use it to navigate better." When I looked over the map, I was met with regret.

"It's a five-story building." By the time we've run a full lap through every room, it would already be midnight. But we could at least know where to look and avoid. "Since it's an arena the middle is eliminated."

"But the dressing rooms would be most likely to house a tarp in them, so I'll check these rooms on the south side, and you check the ones on the north side." Her fingers glide across the glass casing as if she's been planning like this for generations. I assure her that I'm not going to die, and we head our separate ways.

I take time to look through some of the displays, one that catches my eye is a jewelry display. But I don't pay too close attention as I have a job to do. I pass a hotdog stand that smells absolutely rancid, even during the war they let some sports still play in hopes to keep morale up among the common folks. Numerous beer stands, some jerseys with blue and green fabric with an eroded logo, some with black, red, and yellow.

I find myself at the doors to the locker rooms, of course, they require a password or a key to open. I turn back to the information desk, which has the word 'INFO' above it in a faded red.

I kick open the swingy side door and look around for anything which looks like a key or password.

When flipping through an old notepad a piece of paper with '3 4 A 3 0' slips out. How convenient. I poke the values into the keypad and the door unlocks, revealing a long hallway, I turn on the flashlight and walk down the dreary path.

I peak into each room, duffle bags with equipment brimming, engravings carved into the benches in hopes to etch memories into eternity. How many stories, how many legends were started in these rooms lost forever.

Opening a broom closet a blue tarp makes itself known. I empty one of the old duffle bags and stuff the plastic cover in it.

When I turn to walk back to the meet-up point a mahogany fog begins seeping from the dressing rooms. "CoNnOr." A raspy voice calls from behind, an all too familiar one, a voice I tried to run from. I hide in one of the rooms and draw my knife.

Why is that demon back, I thought I killed him for good, I thought I sent him to hell where he belongs. "I know you're here kid," I can hear him take a long sniff, "you can't keep hiding you little pussy." I grip the knife harder.

I peek around to corner to see a silhouette of a creature, one arm is malformed, almost blade-like with a triple-jointed leg and a misshapen head. It stood in the deep fog reminiscent of The Waiting Room. His footsteps creep closer to me, I grab my bag and sink further into the room. His bladed limb which is where his arm should be shoots into the chamber, I look up from under the wall-mounted benches. The duffle bag grants me cover from the monstrosity who is walking around the room.

The misshapen side of his face has a second eye above where his once normal eye was. It's almost reptilian, a glowing yellow that pierces all it gazes over. He calls out again while his eyes point in all directions, his eyes point in different directions.

The monster walks over to me and raises his weaponized arm. It crashes down with lightning speed, the only things faster are sound and light. The bench fractures, it only barely misses my feet, I pull them tighter.

"You bitch! Where are you!" He leaves the room with the sound of a whip cracking. I crawl out with the bag over my shoulder and peer into the hallway, I can't see him.

The red fog grows thicker around me, to my surprise, it doesn't hinder my breathing at all, only my vision.

Red fog slowly consumes all, I wander through the seemingly endless corridors as the mad shouting assaults my hearing from all angles. The noise that calls my name inches closer every second as I lose almost all vision to the fog. The sound of footsteps creeps up behind me faster than I can run.

The fog disperses out into the empty sheet of ice. The demented figure stands in the middle of the rink surrounded by the broken glass of the windows above. "You're a sly one aren't'cha, running and hiding without the big strong n-." Fingers wrap around my shoulder.

"Finish your sentence, I fucking dare you." Nelson stands beside me with a distorted arm similar to Neil's. "Don't worry kid, your story doesn't end here." Nelson dashes towards Neil, I grab the duffle bag and run. Their arms clash like knights with steel swords.

"How the ever-loving fuck did you come back!" Neil is knocked back from a crosscheck.

"I was about to ask you the same thing, I saw Connor kill you." Nelson sees his unchanged arm is bleeding. "But I'll enjoy killing you."

Neil laughs as more of his body changes to look more like a Hate Demon. "I'd love to see you try!" His voice has a static undertone. Nelson prepares himself for a strong attack.

I grab the blade of my knife. I shout Nelson's name as I throw the knife towards him, He grabs the weapon with his uncorrupted hand.

Both Neil's arms are in a blade-like state. "You believe that that puny thing will hurt me?" The human part of his face looks disgusted by the proposition.

Nelson begins to glide across the ice, Neil follows his movements. "Neil, do you have any clue how far this knife is going up your ugly cracker ass?" A smile creeps across both their faces for very different reasons. Neil stabs the ice and propels himself towards Nelson.

I fall to my knees in disbelief.

Nelson coughs blood as Neil laughs, blood leaking from his mouth. "The winner is that bitch Connor again, who would've guessed!" Nelson and Neil both cleanly stabbed each other, Nelson pushes Neil off his arm and onto the ice. I rush over and slide beside him.

"What the hell happened? Why are you a Hate Demons?" I ask, holding Nelson's limp body.

"Kid, I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. One moment I was in the livin' room, and the next I was in the dyin' room. I saw a light in the distance, but I saw Neil running into a different light, so I followed him to make sure the rest of his life was going to be hell. And wouldn't you know, I get to say goodbye to my son one last time." He smiled as the demented parts shifted back into human limbs. "So, Connor, I'll see you in heaven when you get there." His arms fall fully limp, again.