The Nibiru Effect

Memory 1

Heat. It scorches my nostrils and burns my lungs. The wind howls, deafening. Sand speeds by on air currents, biting at my skin and making it raw. I don't care. All I feel is despair. I have never felt this overwhelmed, this hopeless.

"It's all my fault," I mutter, my parched throat making my voice crack.

I glance at my surroundings.

A vast wasteland. Sand as far as the eye can see. There are no dunes, only sand. I look up and see it.

Nibiru.

The planet is so massive it seems to fill the entire sky. It bathes Earth in a cloak of red. The world looks bloody, deceased. Everyone I ever cared about is dead, and it's all my fault.

My head droops in shame, and I see it for the first time. It glimmers, half buried in the sand.

A knife.

I reach down and grab it. It's sharp. I cut myself and a drop of blood falls. I expect it to plummet to the ground, but the fierce wind steals it away before gravity can grab hold of it. I watch another drop fall. It vanishes as well. By the third, I know what I must do.

I must pay for what I have done.

I press the tip of the dagger to my chest and, clutching the hilt tightly, jerk it forward. It slides between my ribs, reaching my heart in less than a second. The life-giving organ explodes. I watch as blood soaks my shirt. There's no pain. No relief. Only despair.

I raise my left arm and study the symbol I find there. It looks like an hourglass. The top half was once full, but now all that remains are a few grains. It's all that remains of my life.

I count the grains. There are five. Five grains. Five seconds until the blissful release of death. I count them down as they fall away.

Five. I'm alive. Why am I still alive when so many have died by my hand?

Four. I no longer feel the heat. Only pain and regret.

Three. My emotions fade away. I feel nothing.

Two. My vision blurs. The last thing I see is Nibiru.

One. I'm dead. Finally.