•×/ꜰʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ\ו DNF

•/( 1 - Calamity )\•

ajax_secretalt
×DO NOT COPY×

°not my art°

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On a night of dismay, the moon started waning and the lake water rippled and sloshed about peacefully, the stars twinkling brightly - so bright, in fact, that they dazzled and gleamed off the dull, murky waters and created a strong ray of light that illuminated the land. Despite it being distinctly calmer, the crescent moon was eerily noticeable under the layer of fluffy clouds lurking in the cold, bitterly miserable sky.

Rain spat at the overgrown grass and, furiously, the blades of green - yellow, to me - swished about, just like a dog shaking water droplets off of its pelt. Still, it wouldn't be able to shake the feeling of coldness, would it? Trees swayed in the breeze and every so often clicked and croaked when a gust of wind became apparent, angrily throwing the trees' naked branches and plain stems aside like a sheet of paper resisting air.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

The earth was cool and moist beneath my bare feet, and wet mud was rubbed all over my soles, yet I wasn't particularly bothered by it - I was used to the feeling. Nobody could escape the climate out in Breace, especially when it was nearing autumn and winter time. Not even somebody as skilful and nimble as myself - nimble as a cat, they'd say.

Everyone knew me, unfortunately. People liked to call me an "Outcast". In particular, people liked to say that I was the "Outlaw Not Found", because, according to gangs, I've always ran away before being caught. Interesting. Yet it doesn't matter to me - I am who I am, and that's that. Names like that are just a cover-up for jealousy and egocentric behaviour, and I've never guaranteed that they mean anything. There are probably plenty of people who are scared of me purely for the reason that I'm better than them. Solid, factual points matter, not fantastical myths.

A gust of wind nearly swept me off my feet, and, quickly, my hands made contact with the wet mud as I ducked, my sharp hearing picking up movement. Dull thudding came from in front of me, and I slowly focused my senses on everything around me.

To the right, to the left, behind me, this thudding was clear. My eyes widened in fearful realisation, and I immediately whipped my head over to the lake and, despite the bitter cold that lingered in the air, I bolted up off the waterlogged ground and sprinted over toward the water. Without hesitation, I dived in.

It was freezing. That was the only thing that lapped through my mind as I made contact and submerged myself in the unclear, dirty loch.

Something wrapped itself around my ankle, and I forced myself to keep my air and not yelp, biting my tongue until I tasted iron. Panicking, I yanked the dagger out of my worn belt and forced myself to go deeper, notwithstanding the pressure that pounded in my head and ears. My left arm swung and I was suddenly free. Whatever had caught me was gone, but it must've been something small, because there was no sight of carmine that would normally swirl in the water.

I gasped for air as my head lifted above the surface, and my hands and legs paddled frenetically. My fingers were being nibbled by numbness, and I knew I only had a matter of time before hypothermia decided to join the unwelcome party.

Quiet groans and growls came from behind me and I snapped my head in that direction, my heterochromic brown and blue eyes clinging to the walking group of corpses that mindlessly and sluggishly followed me. I scrunched my benumbed nose up as my brain scanned my environment, thinking of ways to escape. There was a huge swarm of them, and, considering I was freezing, I was aware I was outnumbered by far too many.

Deciding it was the safest, though still risky, route, I surface dived back into the lake, my tingling body shaking like crazy in a desperate attempt to stay warm. My breathing grew to panting whenever I came back up for breath, my condensation slowly becoming less and less as I lost more body heat.