The Creature

The story of how the world fell. 2013.

They had created it. The man gasped as he ran down the shadowy corridor; it had seemed so safe and simple at the time, just a means to an end. It had been the final punishment, the last resort. He was paying for it now though, for all of his plans and strategies he was nothing in the path of the beast that pursued him. He thought back, to a better time, when all had been well and the Shadow, the final repugnant mistake of humanity, had not existed.

The year was 2013, very much a year of celebration. Humanity had triumphed over the ‘end of the world’ as many had believed it to be. The megacities had been full of endless, colourful throngs of rejoicing citizens.  It had been known as year of festivity. Gluttony and Filth reigned over the festering, seething mob of humankind. However this great final celebration had its side effects. Crime was at an all-time high in known history and the population had separated. One half, made up of the scientists and great thinkers of the time and the other, made of those who sought enjoyment over advancement.

This rise in crime forced the scientists and thinkers to develop a solution. The prisons were full and the death penalty was no longer a deterrent to a population long weary of empty threats. It had been a philosopher named Michael Barrington who first came up with the idea. The theory was that the human mind was of two conflicting parts; good and evil. Could it not be possible to simply remove this ‘bad’ side of humanity? The scientists thought so. A machine was built and it had no equal. The machine sucked out the bad energy of the mind and left the good. It was a seemingly flawless punishment, leaving the victim with a mind incapable of evil. It worked, perhaps too well.

The problem lay in what was to be done with this ‘dark energy’. Extremely volatile it had to be handled carefully and experimented with more carefully still. Eventually the scientists discovered a solution; a single human being, a genetically engineered child without a mind. It was essentially a blank slate, a vessel to fill, no more than an empty husk of flesh and bone.

Michael had been so proud; proud that his idea had saved the earth. It was what he had always dreamed of; finally he was recognised and respected. It had been too good to be true.

The final error of the scientists had been that they had not accounted for the fact that if an empty mind is filled, then it is not empty anymore. The dark energy had consumed the child; steadily growing, being fed and waiting for the right moment to strike.

It had struck humanity hard.

 

 

Michael yelled in fear as he ran through the blood spattered hallways of the complex, skidding through the grisly pools as he desperately sprinted for survival. There was the door. Not caring anymore, he ran into it hard, shattering the bones of his shoulder. He broke through into the sunlight, lips pulled back into a pain filled grimace. The dust flew as he ground to a halt, gasping for air.

He fell to his knees as he surveyed the wreckage before him, the smoke rising from ruined buildings like blood; darkening the air.

They had been slaughtered like animals, men women and children. Michael dragged himself to his feet and turned. Blackness pooled and a shape rose from the floor. Michael watched in terrified silence as the shocking, pale, twisted features were revealed in the murky depths; the eyes, two pits of horror.

The monster…

His Son.

Author's Note

My first proper short story :)