Darkman

Her fragile form bent the deepening shadows of the forest, altering the landscape to accommodate her miniscule volume. She did not feel eyes upon her. The whispers of twilight on the wind sent ancient warnings, chilling her to the bone – she did not understand. Her pulse quickened as the last rays of sun melted from the sky.

A soul-shattering howl erupted, scattering the population of the wood – trees shook with fear as birds escaped the stentorian evil; ground burned with invisible flame, every piece of brush shook with movement of insect and animal creating false wind – she screamed in harmony.

She ran. She ran until the only sound was that of her own panicked gasping. She was lost. The moon disappeared, leaving her blind to the leaves brushing against her face. She could not see the claws that lingered by her throat, sometimes touching for just a moment, making her slap her flesh as though pricked by a thorn. Perfect darkness. Hunger. She was the first to die so beautifully.

It was the earliest day of Man – she wore the hide of some cruelly butchered animal and the dirt of many days upon her skin, the wilderness was thick, her tools were crude – there was no Time before. It was the moment all began.

Sleep. Deep in Earth’s soil. A perfect moment in the world of the living, an eternity in the void. In Sleep there is no Time, just darkness deep as death – no dreams, no flashes of waking, no sense. Perfect nothingness.

A chaos of pain and confusion – Hunger trapped in Earth’s comforting prison, the alluring scent of life filtering down from the surface. Time to live, kill again.

The sky was bruised with dusk, the salivating stench of human thick in the air, so much thicker than before. Overwhelming.

Cutting through the wood, tracking the sweet stink, firelight slowly growing brighter through the trees, the sounds of Man echoing through the dark, a large fire burning amongst a hamlet of wooden structures, silhouettes of a dozen men dancing against the flames, their weapons brandished in celebration. Man was thriving – their homes stable, their tools defined, their girth more impressive – at the sight of such an abundance of life Hunger surged.

A roar of pure rage and desire shattered the peace of early night – men yelled and cursed with surprise, dogs ran off yelping, the sound of waking children and frightened mothers screaming completed the symphonic chaos of impending death. Never was such cruelty unleashed upon such innocence. They made no attempt to defend themselves, there was no chance.

Hunger was strong, it grew larger. All the men died in a moment. The women emerged from their domiciles to find no more than withered husks of flesh piled on the ground.

Sleep did not come so quickly this time. It was most enjoyable to listen to the dazzling pain in the wailings of the mourning women. A perfect moment, one worthy of an eternity of appreciation, but Earth has no desire for such things and never takes long to call back her wandering children.

Man prospers under the influence of Time, their minds and bodies grow stronger by the age. In the constant flow of life they somehow understand Time and travel right along with it. How did they come to know Time, to hold it’s secrets? These are secrets known only to Earth, whose only need of Man is to feed Hunger.

Come the next awakening, Earth was no longer in charge. The scent of Man saturated the soil, a salty infection – the smell of life outdoing itself. There seemed to be no more surface – a hard, cold barrier of rock, a prison covering Earth as she eventually does all her children – but the trap was flawed.

Hunger grew ravenous, mixed with anger and created a frenzy unlike anything ever known. Man had gathered a tribe large enough to cover both horizons – monuments of wood, metal and stone creating a horrific, unnatural landscape that changed the surface’s once simple beauty into a vulgar display of useless power.

Man’s numbers had grown exponentially. It would take much to calm Hunger this time.

There were few who heard the timeless cry of approaching doom, but all would incur the ensuing wrath. The color of the sky slowly altered shades. False light filled the sky. Hunger led a rampage of destruction that left the infernal structures void of life. Perfect devastation.

Man fell one by one until much of the Earth was cleansed of their disease. There were more tribes such as this under whose torture Earth lived in pain, but Hunger eventually subsided and Earth grew lonely for her servant.

Sleep did not reach it’s gentle perfection. Earth was too shaken. Time overtook her. Man was given too long. Earth prepared to fight back.

Instead of empty nothingness there were cryptic lessons, subtly teaching all there is. Earth’s only defense against Time is her complex nature, of which Hunger is a part – the distilled nature of Man.

There was no awakening, the surface was simply revealed again. For so long Man followed it’s self-chosen destiny, but lines were crossed, barriers broken. Earth would rule once again.

The smell of blood became more and more potent as Earth was changed from brown to red. A world of liquid, fading life became the mud that would fossilize the ultimate achievements of Time and Man. Hunger was controlled and methodical, sniffing out the last remaining scents of nourishment. Time wound down.

Hunger scoured the surface destroying comprehension of Time. Without acknowledgement no power or truth can survive, thus Hunger could be no more, there was nothing left to hunger for, there was no Sleep, no Time, and Earth need no longer keep her secrets. There would finally be understanding, for the only moment Hunger can share with all Earth’s children is their last.