Burnt Winter

I - The Escape

Hello Hello Hello my dear readers and to those who have never picked up a story of mine! This is a story I have started writing at work and I thought that it soundedd really good and wanted to share it with all of you!

This is going to be rated R for many different reasons, one being that this is a post-apocalyptic world and it is going to have a lot of dark disturbing material of some sorts.

Hopefully you all understand and actually enjoy my choice of material.

Please comment and vote if you enjoyed! I love to hear feedback on my writing and some tips as well! 

~ Brooke <3

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Ashleigh

The first thing I heard when I awoke from my nightmare was the sound of war rattling my eardrums. I willed myself to snap my eyes open, and was greeted with the agonizing burn of the sun filling my senses, smoke clouding the rays like an iridescent cloak. The scent of rancid death and gunpowder filled my nostrils, making my lungs cough with an urgency I was not comfortable with. With the loud crash of bombs and gunfire proceeding in the distance, every fibre in my body willed me to push through the stabbing pains in my muscles and run.

 

Run. The word was present in my mind, but the rest of my brain could not assess the command properly. My mind was as desolate as a blank sheet of paper: I could not remember why I was here, or even what my name was. Slowly, I willed myself to make my eyes locate the source of the noise; the scene in front of me made me sick to my stomach.

 

Death. It was everywhere; remnants of once whole people were scattered throughout the desert landscape like pieces of confetti. Close to me, the lifeless body of a child was smeared across the ground, the head detached and gazing up at me with glassy eyes, its head so disfigured I could barely tell what the child once looked like. The sight finally ate at my will to keep my bile down, and I proceeded to throw up the contents of my stomach in the bitter dirt at my side. This couldn’t have been real. I must have woken up in another nightmare. Nothing this disturbing or vile could be reality: But looking back at the piles of victims and the stinging burn in my throat, I knew this wasn’t a dream.

 

“Hey R’ger! This one’s still squirm’n!” the voice of a delusioned man cackled out into the distance. I gazed up to meet the eyes of the most disturbing figures I had ever seen in my life.

 

There were two men standing there in the distance on a dusky hill. The one who had seemed to call to him looked as though he had stepped out of a horror film, his body so twisted and bent over I was surprised he could even walk, let alone shoot a large gun that he had secured in his decayed arm. His cracked lips twisted into an unreal form of a grin as he noticed my eyes meeting his.

 

The other man looked abnormally tall, his stance making him look almost 7 foot. He wore what seemed to be a trench coat made of patched leather and a hat that covered his eyes from the glaring heat of the sun.