Hollow

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My eyes dart back and forth, scanning and memorizing every detail of the destruction. Without specific command, my legs navigate their way over the rubble.

I'm not sure what it is that I am looking for, I just know that I need to find it. The city is huge, yet my brain tells me I must run over it with a fine-toothed comb. Every crevice searched, every stone overturned.

Life

I am desperately searching for life, or at least a sign of it. Otherwise, everything I have done would be a waste.

Scuttling over the mess of debris, a sudden sharper crack sounds through the air. It echos off the surrounding buildings: smacking my ears over and over and over again.

Some part of me knows what it will be when I look down.

A bone

Leaning down to pick it up, my suspicions are confirmed: it is a human one. As I look down around me, a number of human bones jump out at my vision. I clench my teeth, fighting vicious nausea back down.

Several skulls peek out of the rubble, grinning up at me with eyes as black as the infinite abyss that is the universe: still mocking me, even in death.

The smell of the deceased swarms my body, suffocating me in the face of it. I release the bone in my hands as I bolt and run away.

Ducking into an alley, my various attempts at regaining composure fail. As the buzzing of my blood fades away, the world goes silent once again. I close my eyes, sinking to the ground, allowing myself a moment's rest.

"Hello?"

My eyes snap back open, head whipped towards the sound. The voice.

"Who's there?"

My own voice sounds more stale and hostile than I intend it to be. This mistake is exemplified as the next sound I hear is the fading crunch of feet running away from me.

"Wait!"

I scramble to my feet, my legs already clumsily stumbling away: chasing the footsteps that are getting quieter and quieter.

Ignoring the memory that tells me not to run too hard, I throw logic and reasoning to the wind. My mind focuses on successfully navigating its way through this labyrinth of alleyways.

A giggle that can only be described as playful floats back to me. Who is this girl? Is she toying with me?

I sprint like a rat through a maze with that same feeling that I am being watched. Turning the corner, I catch a glimpse of a white skirt: a stark contrast against the pale onyx musk of the walls.

Several more mocking giggles echo against the walls, drifting back to my ears. I don't know how long I've been running, but I'm ready for this game to stop.

Increasing my speed, I risk having my lungs temporarily fail once again. Another corner approaches and I swiftly take the turn. One final giggle that floats back to me is abruptly cut off: I whip my head upwards.

A dead end.