ONE - Smile

ONE

The night is clear enough to be called clear. There are absolutely no clouds in the sky as I run through the wilderness, my hands fluttering behind me and my gaze on the sky. My legs move on their own, finding land strong enough to hold my weight, and propelling me forward with a sense of purpose in every step. From far behind me, riding on the wind that whistles past my ears, sounds of riding men reach my ears. I tighten my jaw and increase my speed. My eyes settle on the craft that rests just on the edge of my vision.

I look up to the stars. The night feels wonderful, vibrant, and windy. Cold air tickles my nostrils. The night settles around me like a cold blanket pushing me on, urging me closer. Just a little more, I whisper. A little more.

A red light whistles past my face. A second later a sharp burn covers the right side of my face.

Sounds of galloping horses approach, and I turn my gaze from the stars for a little while, to give myself a sense of the danger at hand. The men behind me are riding on balisks, great slithery beasts with spikes in their throats. A dozen or so of them spread out behind me, getting closer with every wide gallop of those hooved feet. Their riders hold great blades of flame high above their heads, and it looks as though they're charging with all their courage, encouraging themselves to fight even if they die. I wonder if they have enough reason to. Madhunters. That's what they are.

Violence is a rare thing, and yet they know how to wield those flames. My own hands find a blade in my thigh and a shooter in my side. I crank my neck left and right. Indeed, I say to myself. Indeed they have reason to charge like an army.

I skid to a stop, and sand rises into the air like dust. I move through the cloud and slit the throat of a youngling who lies with his eyes visible under his blanket. His blood bursts onto my face, burbly and green. I slip past him and cut the next one.

Two, three, four, I mutter to myself. It's not long before these men begin to scream as they realize their position has been compromised. I smile as I cut the next one's throat, his screaming melting into burbly bursts of air and blood. I can't resist a smile. Smile. Smile for me.

I take the time to carve this one's face into a healthy smile. It looks good on him. I bet it'd look even better on the sky.

An array of blasts rush up at me. An explosion occurs right behind me. I am blown back several feet. I come to a bloody rest on my knees and cough up balls of blood. I get to my feet and run on. The dust begins to settle.

I've been held back too much, for too long. It's time to get there, to achieve my aim; become the one thing in the world that fits my heart.

Mother, sister. Their faces appear in my mind as I move across landscapes and dunes. They have smiles on their faces. It doesn't fit them. The one I put there last week, on the full moon, while scavenging birds looked on with hollow eyes, and beasts watched from the shadows, was more fitting.

I come closer and closer to the craft, and I feel my heartbeat begin to rise. It grows taller as I approach it, and darker and sleeker. Just like the night, I think. Just how I like it.

I stop before the hunk of metal. After three long days of intense running, I've gotten here. It had seemed a perfectly attainable goal at the time. Kill the naysayers, pursue your dreams, and shoot for the stars. But now that I stand before it, I wonder if the thing works and if there's even enough liquid in the thing to make it out.

Only one way. Nothing will stand before me and my dream. I step closer to the craft. The side opens up like a flap, creaking, shuddering, and comes to rest at my feet. I step on it.

A burst of fiery flame emerges from the dark depths of the craft and hits me in the middle. I look up at the sky, hoping to feel it's reassuring cold again. The earth welcomes me instead.

Men approach tentatively from the dark depths of the craft, every single one of them armed with a heavy blaster. The one in the lead has his face set like a warrior. His barrel glows a hot red.

The men from behind ride up, their steeds silent. They alight and surround me.

"Suketsju," one of them says and the men from the craft put down their blasters. "We will take it from here."

I look up to the stars for assistance, mercy perhaps. They blink right back at me. Smile, my dear, I mutter to the sky. It'll look good on you.

And it does. A bright smile appears right there, under two brightly shining stars. The smile widens as I gaze on. I grin too.

"Fugazza. Look at him." I hear. "He's starstruck. He won't stop."

"How many did he spear?"

"Nine, Jakarti. Nine noble greens."

There's a long silence. "Ekusuterminato."

They line up around me, what is left of them. Bloody hunters they are. Losing nine blood to a lone madman. They raise their blades.

Why, why do I keep getting stopped? First, mother, then sister. Now the madhunters. I want to get there. I want to be one with you.

"Dhzie."

"Dhzie."

And, thinking of my beloved, and smiling with it too, my insides are scorched into emptiness, and my head burns empty.