Dystopia

-2

William watched skeptically as a man, a man formally clad in a black tuxedo walked towards him. Confused, Mr. Hartford looked all around him, only to realize that the warm atmosphere surrounding him, and the ground he stood upon was pitch black. Making it impossible to define what really was a wall, and what really was the floor. It seemed as if he was floating, yet gravity still clung onto William, desperate to live.

The man directly in front of him was only visible through an eerie light that he radiated. Almost like the moon, and how it shined even as darkness threatened to swallow it whole.

Contentment was written vividly across the man's face. However, he did not look necessarily happy.

As he continued to dawn closer to William, translucent, narrow pillars began sprouting from the undetermined ground the both of them stood on. He watched as the man's expression quickly morphed into one of confusion upon seeing the transparent prisms diluted to a milky white color, grow from the "floor" simultaneously. A feeling of uneasiness swept over the unknown stranger as he began to walk faster, and faster allowing the fear of the unknown to devour him. Although the faster the man ran from it, the faster the crystals grew. And not only did they grow faster, but they also grew larger, sharper, so sharp they looked lethal.

The man began to sprint, decreasing his distance between William. The shards, however, were much quicker. They grew closer to him with every step he took, and so large they were nearly twice the size of the man. Fear overtook the stranger, the emotion etched deeply onto his face, and within the flesh of his body.

It occurred to Mr. Hartford that he as well should run for his dear life, but his entire being was paralyzed. With an exception to his consciousness, which could move and think freely at will.

And William was still trying to decide whether that was a good thing out not. Whether it was a good thing to be aware that death was coming, in the form of large, sharp, crystals, craving for the savory taste of his own blood that accelerated in circulation as the man and the deathy, beautifully transparent prisms violently approached him.

As the man drew nearer, William began to notice things he couldn't quite see before due to a matter of distance. He saw that they both wore the same burgundy, French tie, and the same silky tuxedo.

But that's not the thing that captured his attention.

Their features were identical. Not only because they both portrayed a deep stage of fear, but also because they both harnessed the same striking pair of blue eyes, a set of jet-black, intricately styled hair, and a jaw full of freshly whitened teeth.

William gasped in both surprise and horror, realizing that he was staring at a direct copy of himself.

But the duplicate seemed unaware of it, even as he was staring straight at him. Oblivious to the fact that he might not die alone.

The clone released a deranged, almost inhuman scream when a gigantic, knife-like prism blocked his path. He tried to run left, only to be restricted by another, slightly larger shard. The right, and the area behind him, he soon learned, was also blocked as well.

Excessive crystals began to shoot up from the ground around him. Sprouting, and then wrapping themselves around the makeshift cage that had been formed around the unfortunate man. His hands bled from desperately trying to pound his way out, but it proved useless. The only harm being done was to his hands, as well as to his possibly delusional sanity.

He screamed in hopes of someone finding him, he screamed because he was afraid of what would happen if someone did not.

It was then that the man broke down into a crumpled heap on the floor and cried.