After hours of searching he finally found a needle between the dusty floor boards. The needle was still sharp and would do its job. Adam tore his shirt sleeve and pulled a long thread from it's tattered edges to sew his kneck back onto his shoulders. This part never agreed with him no matter how many times he'd done it before. Stabbing, poking ,yanking and pulling at his skin with a kneedle always turned his stomach. At least this ones sharp. He said to himself while admiring the needle.
There, sitting against the house's moulding walls, Adam tried to forget the old man he'd left lying dead on the floor of the Drowning Dust. Both were heading south when they met. Away from the fighting. Adam found It diffucult to simply forget the traveling merchant's kindly ways as he poked and pulled at his skin.
"Killings bad for business. I'll run out of costomers." The old man told Adam with a smile and hint of sadness in his eyes when they first met on the road. A look of sadness you can't simply wash off with a chuckle and a smile. The kind that comes from loss. Adam figured the old man was running away from more than just bad business. And he was right. The merchant lost his entire family to a fire caused by the war. His wife, daughters and grandchildren all burned in their beds as he sat just a few paces down the road, in his shop, counting a pouch of silkened coins he'd made selling some barrels of fire ash.
It seemed as though the wars were becoming more brutal and reckless as the decades wore on. Adam made it a point to never get involved. Well, not anymore anyway. Not since the Wars of the Fertile Crescent did Adam dare to intervene in any type of dispute. He’d lost everything precious to him during those wars. He swore never to get involved in another war after that.
When Adam finally finished sewing his nack back onto his shoulders he settled himself beneath the bed to sleep. Later that night he awoke to a chill in the dark. The floor boards cold and damp against his back. He turned towards the wall and curled himself in a tight ball. A frost settle on the soil just outside, creeping in through the decaying wood and abandoned spaces of the house.
Still, it’s safer in here than out there. Adam reassured himself.
Just then he heard whispers in the room. He stopped breathing and lay as still as he could, unsure of the voices in the dark. There grew a warm glow in the room that set shadows against the wall. Three small figures looked as if they huddled around the light.
There was no reason to be alarmed. They were just children, probably orphaned by the war. Still, Adam decided to take caution. Having lived through just about every kind of robbery, witch hunt, murder, and bar brawl you could think of, Adam knew it better to be safe than dead. So he slid a dull blade with cloth wrapped around its end for a handle from his pocket.
He readied himself over and again terrified by what he’d face. Though he was immortal Adam had faced things far more terrifying than death. Agony and suffering was what he feared most. And with good reason. He could feel pain as long as his body and soul would let him and so far it’d been far longer than he’d dare to admit.
He lay curled in a petrified ball. I’ve got to move. Now is the best time, while there talking amongst themselves, Adam encouraged himself.
Finally, he pushed against the wall sliding on his side from beneath the bed. Adam turned over on his back pointing the dull blade at the figures huddled around the fire. “Who's there?!”
The three children jumped and scrambled behind the flame with their backs against the wall, spilling a jar of milk that lay on the floor beside the fire. The youngest of them, a little girl of four buried her head beneathe a boys arms sitting next to her, sobbing in terror.
Yea, orphans from the war. Adam thought to himself as he exhaled in relief, lowering the butter knife he was griping in his trembling hands.
From the way the older boy sheltered the crying girl Adam assumed they were siblings. Strangely, the older girl with them didn’t seem afraid at all. In fact there was a peculiar smile on her face. And what child would be smiling in such a situation during a time of war.
These can't be children, Adam thought to himself. “Who are you!? Deceivers!” He yelled while raising the knife back towards the children.
YOU ARE READING
Amelia 4042
Pertualangan"Amelia" is a planet I'm writing short stories about. This story centers around a man who lived in the 41st century named Adam gifted and cursed with immortal life but a mortal body. (He's not a zombie.) Enjoy.
