The World Of Steam

18

I peeked my head out from the trench I was still stuck in and observed the carnage around me. People killed one another without a second thought, driven insane by bloodlust and greed. Neighbours turned against each other, having different views about how the country should be governed. No one had any sense to hide as they all wanted a piece of the action, wanted to charge into the glory of the fight. I knew that there was no glory to be won, there was only death and trauma. Only when the war would end, would everyone then realise what they had done and that there was no prize waiting for them. Maybe, as the days would go by, they would surrender to one another, realising what they had done, realising that the war was all for nothing. Or maybe this was just the beginning of a long series of conflicts that would continue into the years to come. Either way, war had arrived and there was nothing that I could do to stop it. I was just a small crumb that could be easily wiped off a shirt. I looked at the war all around me. Blood ran down the streets and into the sewers. War cries and screams resounded throughout the entire fight with there being nothing to block it out. Two combatants suddenly shot themselves down, both of their guns going off at the same time in a puff of white smoke. They both fell to the blackened ground and did not move. Turning my head, I watched as a man dragged his bleeding friend across the ground, throwing him into the trench. He jumped in straight after, doing his best to survive the whizzing of the bullets. Maybe some people had sense, but the majority were driven mad by an uncontrollable urge to strike glory. I sat back down onto the cold ground and waited for a chance to kill an attacker. I did not want to kill anyone that I did not need to. It wasn't right. Most of the civilians were not suited for war. They should have been hiding away in bunkers or basements. They had no chance of surviving what was to come. My mind knew that this was just the beginning of something much more intense. Sadly, I could not stop anyone from fighting. It was their own choice to be in the war and I could not interfere, however much I wanted to. To stage a protest would mean a quick death for me. I looked around at the trench life that I was now living. One man cowered, covering his head, trembling like a leaf. Another sat himself down at a small stool and hoped that everyone else would kill each other off. A third man ducked his head down and entered a dug out bunker, deciding to stay there until the war ended. All in all, we were in a terrible situation. I suddenly heard footsteps on wood and snapped my head to the right, drawing out my dart gun in an instant. I aimed it at my enemy, my gloved finger already touching the trigger, eagerly waiting to give them a painful death. A frizzy haired man frantically waved his hands at me, his eyes an abundance of fear. He looked tired and his eyes were black with bags. His skin seemed to hang down like a wet sheet, the stresses of the fight having changed him physically. There was a cut on one of his cheeks, crusted with blood.

"Stop! Don't shoot!" He yelled at me in panic. I put my gun away, knowing that he was going to be of no threat to me. I saw the rifle across his back, but I knew that he was not going to go in for a surprise attack. He was smarter than that. I knew that he was not going to kill me, he had no reason to. We were reluctant allies.

"You." Was all I said. He stopped in place and looked at me, exhausted as hell.

"So, did you find him? The scientist?"

"Yes, but I only got a small chance to talk to him before he died of lung cancer."

His face slackened as he quickly lost all hope. "So we're doomed." He said solemnly. I shrugged.

"Maybe, maybe not. I just need to find the cure that he hid."

"That's great. Really." He reached into his long coat and drew out a piece of aventurine. He tossed it over to me and I instantly grabbed it. "Take it. I don't want to see that thing ever again."

"Why's that?"

"No one wants to buy it, museums think that it's useless. It's driving me mad! I cannot keep a hold of that thing any longer!"

I put the aventurine into my coat pocket and zipped it up. I gestured with my head. "Go on. Get out of here before you get yourself killed. Find a bunker or something. You don't look like someone that's suited for war."

He nodded to me, scoffing, his eyes widening slightly. "You got that right." Without waiting for a tank to turn up, he quickly turned and disappeared through the maze of trenches.

I crept around the war-ridden city of London, trying my best to survive. That was my only goal. To try and get through the war in one piece and find a way on how to use the damned cure. I was solely responsible for the survival of the entire country. My death would spell disaster and extinction. No pressure, then. I did not want to stay stuck inside that trench any longer. A Zeppelin could hover above me and release its bombs and then it would be all over. I was not looking for fame and glory, I was just trying to complete the task that I was given. I looked around at the sight. Within less than 48 hours, the gates of Hell had opened up and spilled out its horrors onto the city like a tidal wave. But London was not a city any longer, it was a war zone. The ground was stained in blood, a limb or two laid scattered around. Small craters impeded paths, the result of bombs thrown from airships. The concrete had turned into charcoal from the constant flames, turned to the colour of blackened night. Walls were splattered in blood, evidence of executions and poor souls that had taken wrong turns. Ordinary people were forced to take refuge wherever they could, hiding away in alleyways and slums, even basements underneath the pub. It was still better than fighting head on with only a minute's life expectancy. Suddenly, I saw a group of men, all dressed in black suits. They walked through streets and searched alleyways, on the hunt for something or someone. One of them turned their heads to me and tapped one of his friends on the shoulder. His friend looked at him and he pointed right at me. The rest all looked at me. I wasn't even given one chance to retaliate before one of them drew out a gun and shot me in the chest. The last thing that I remember was everything going dark before collapsing to the ground.