Notes from the End of the World

A Snake

It was dark already.

They tied two of the girls to a tree.

"Don't worry. You'll be the next." One of them said to the children, licking their faces.

They have taken the younger one to a makeshift tent, and all the man were lined up waiting their turn.

"Who's coming there?" One of them pointed to a shadowy figure between the silhouette of the trees. They drew their knives and machetes.

The intruder stepped forward, so the flickering lights of the fireplace fell on the Postman's face.

"What do you want?" They shouted at him.

The group leader left the tent, buckling his belt, he carried a blade himself.

"Have you forgotten something?" He asked the Postman.

"In fact, I'm kind of lost. I thought the best I should do was to ask you for some directions." The Postman said, coming closer to the group. He had a glimpse of the half-naked girl laying down inside the tent. "Having fun, huh?"

"Get the fuck outta here!" The leader said. "We're through with you. No more talking. No more deals."

"Wouldn't it be ironic if you were killed by the same shotgun you've just sold me? It seems that this was the only firearm you've got, right? They are so rare these days."

"You wouldn't dare ..." The leader said. "Besides, you're only one person. We're eight. You're not that quick to shoot down all of us."

"You're absolutely right. That's why I'll spare the shells. Why waste them on bums like you?" The Postman threw the gun's strap around his chest and drew the fire axe hanging on his waist. "That will do."

The men surrounded him, branding his weapons.

"You're a treacherous snake. I should have known it." The leader said, watching the scene with his arms crossed. "I bet you're not even a Postman."

"You know nothing about me." The Postman said, leaping forward and digging the axe deep in the head of one of the thugs, that fell dead on the spot, convulsing.

They all advanced as a single body, and anyone observing it from outside could hardly distinguish what was happening. There were shouts, and blood, and limps flying, and more blood, and dead men and wounded men.

The Postman was the only one left standing, panting, covered in blood, with his axe dripping blood in one hand and a machete in another.

"How is that possible?" The leader asked. "Who are you?"

"I'm part of this horror," the Postman said, running towards him. The first reaction of the leader was to try to run. If seven men could not take him down, why would he? But the Postman was faster and hit him with the axe on his back.

The group leader rolled on the ground, and tried to crawl away.

"People like you should not be allowed to live." The Postman said.

"We're not so different ..." He grumbled. "You and I carry the same evilness inside. You sold me those girls."

"I did, but I came back for them." The Postman said, before decapitating the leader with some strikes of the axe.

He got inside the tent and covered the girl with his rain cape.

"I told you that you shouldn't trust me, but you did not believe." He said.

"I've been through much worse than this." The girl muttered. "I'm a survivor. Just like you."

"So let's keep going." And he proceeded to untie the other two from the tree.

"How did you do that?" They asked him.

"Luck." The Postman said.