Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » The End of Humanity(Chaotic Version)

Wind upon his face, the hills and dunes all around. He sat there in solitude among the ancient sands, breath after breath.

It was a cold day, it always was, though could he even feel cold? Senses blasted endlessly by things mortal man was not meant to bare witness too often malfunctioned. Case in point: as the man relaxed his eyes darted across bright lights and morphing colors. Ruined walls became malformed structures of four dimensions, the sands became as water.

Real or a hallucination? Jackson was sinking into the watery sands. He reached above himself, gasping for air, his AK strapped to his side floated above him, his mind began to wander into darkness. How many times had this happened? How long had it been since his days in the institute? As he rushed through the black ichor of reality, he could only think back onto his days born of the bureau. He could only wonder if he'd ever return home.

Like the eyes of a newborn, he was scarred by lights. Bright hues he could not describe descended onto his cornea as the man swam towards it in the void. His hands reached a pin prick of light, and pulled it apart.

A million moments passed, and then he breathed. Gasping for air, the masked man grasped for his throat. Pulling at it, ensuring there was nothing choking him. He fell onto his back, rolling onto a hard landing. Breathing ragged, he relaxed a moment. He watched the always so visible distortion of light above himself, always so visible whenever this happened.

Then, the scent of smoke hit him, his vision returned, and he realized he was surrounded by hell. The man jumped to his feet around the time he noticed that his clothing was on fire. "Aha, cyka, nyet!" he called out loud enough to hear a mile away, patting the flames off of himself. He had been laying on the ruins of a tall buildings top, under which burned the world.

"Perhaps, this time I really did die!" thought the ragged man. And then, his vision descended again, once more forms morphed, and he began to run. He walked across debris and through hallways unseen. Rushing his way all about, as if running from this new world itself. Demons from his past, screams in languages long dead, and a sense that the government might be up to no good seemed to permeate him in a panicked haze.

And then, he ran into a room in which a young girl stood. It was as if the haze cleared from his mind all at once. A human! Something he could recognize! And she looked normal too, by his biased standards.

Breathing heavy, he stared a moment, and then, in broken English, he began to yell.

"We have of to leave here!" He yelled, voice cracking, body shaking, eyes darting. To an outsider, he may appear shocked by having survived the destruction of the city. In reality, he was hallucinating, panicking, and excited to find another human.