Hollow

Wander

My skin shifts, once again accommodating for the environment. I swish my way through the grass, heading up a steady incline.

My muscles adamantly protest as I finally make it to the top of the curve. Bringing up a hand to my face, I block the sun from ripping into my eyes as I peer into the distance.

Shiny, glittering towers of silver glass and metal stand tall on platforms of concrete and tar. They span across the landscape for endless miles, the appendages of man reaching up to grasp at the clouds.

A city

My heart quickens it's beat: the straying from its usually tempo a sensation my body doesn't quite understand anymore. Civilization calls out to what is left of my soul, and my legs reflexively lurch in its direction.

Suddenly I'm running, urgency driving me to go faster. Acutely aware of the crippled air rushing dangerously against my face, I still choose to keep sprinting.

Soon, the glittering steel city is (at last) close enough to capture my eyes once again. On an instinct that should have long gone dormant, I squint my eyes to see better.

Something's wrong

This thought is immediately banished as my muscles dramatically contract, my lungs spamming erratically. Collapsing to the cool earth, my body involuntarily convulses. Pupils intensely dilating, throat burning, I realize that in my excitement I have failed to recognize my pushing myself too hard.

The afflicted atmosphere around me that hardly counts as air does little to ease my suffering as I repeatedly gulp it down. I hadn't realized how crippled the air had truly become until it was too late. There are some things to which even I cannot fully adapt.

Retreating into the deepest corner of my conscious mind, I patiently wait for the pain to pass.

* * *

I come to, glancing around as I take in my surroundings. The disorientation my mind experiences can only be compared to that of an animal dropped in the ocean with no idea how to swim.

My throat feels as if it had caught fire and someone tried putting it out with sandpaper. The rest of my body hasn't faired much better. What had I been thinking about before I phased out?

My usually exceptional memory has fled, leaving behind a trace of something that only tells me it was important.

The image of the city in the distance however, still continues to relentlessly needle at my mind. This sensation forces me to my feet.

Trudging forward at a lagging pace, I choose not to incapacitate myself again. My legs, shaky and weak, stumble their way towards civilization.

                *                        *                        *

The closer I get to the city, the uneasier I get. What was just a lingering feeling of anxiety laying tightly against my sternum has grew to encompass my entire psyche.

Something's wrong

The thought mimics the memory I can't retrieve. I couldn't put my finger on it but something was off. My body growing increasingly tense as I continue, I finally reach the edge of the city's perimeter.

No

What had seemed like a vibrant, buzzing city from a distance was exactly the opposite in reality.

Piles of debris littered the streets, consisting of immense slabs of scrap metal, charred beyond recognition. Not a soul breathed in the wrecked streets or the crumbling buildings. The invasive silence claws at my ears, causing an agony that is worse than any physical pain.

The ghost city radiates a heinous aura, warning of the mass amount of death it contains. What happened? The question suddenly imprints itself on my skull. My every fiber needs to know the answer.

I cross the perimeter.