The entire scientific community had toiled for decades to create the ultimate cure: immortality. The cure to end all other life. The plague of knowledge. Humanity is the only trace of life existing within this biologically raped sphere. Paved streets replace the luxurious grass once felt underfoot. Architectural giants loom where trees once cleansed the air. Perpetual smog haze blankets the city, intensifying the unbearable summers. Humans litter the streets. Nationality no longer matters. The population became evenly distributed to lift the burden on Mother Earth. To the outside observer, Earth had become the physical embodiment of hell. We had become accustomed to it. Immortality was received as a gift by my fellow man. It disgusts me! We destroyed natures life force, only to cower in fear when we lose our own. We have resorted to unconventional, violent methods for survival. Every year, chaos ensues as convicted murderers enter the cities, heavily equipped with blades of destruction. Few survive. The elderly always perish while those agile enough to find refuge in abandoned niches manage to escape. Today children are self educated as there is no guarantee school teachers will survive the annual ritual. I grew up in a corrupt world with an interrupted childhood. Countless stories of the childhoods of preceding generations kept my spirit alive. Had the world I now lived in been a world visited only in their worst nightmares?

                My mind wandered through emerald green fields, filling my imagination with awe and inspiration. Scents unfamiliar to me littered the crisp breeze, delighting my senses with pure ecstasy. I listened to the sweet harmonies of the birds. This was a world of Godly delights. I glanced around my heavenly retreat. I watched as if I were no longer held within my physical vessel, a silver ethereal tether the only link to my body. Suddenly I saw my body heave in torturous convulsions. The emerald green dissolved into oppressing shades of grey. Harmonies morphed into the constant strains of traffic. Heavy smog began to choke the air. These were the conditions in which I became the fragile shell I now inhabit. Death, destruction and delusion have become our gifts, imposed upon those who had become but not a memory. I vowed revenge for this civilisations creation. As the gradually cooling days became more abrupt, my attention focused on a single goal: survival.

            The delighted squeals of young children dimmed with the irradiating sunlight. How I wished to live in their world of ignorant bliss, to share their naivety in a hollow attempt to recapture that spark of happiness I may have experienced as an infant. Panicked parents hurriedly collected their children, along with supplies for the winter solstice. It was unimaginable to the outsider that one invention, one night, could instill the unquenchable pangs of fear constantly welling in those I knew and loved. Since I was young I had always planned an escape route. The maps of the city underground were now permanently etched in my conscious and subconscious minds. Every year I would flee my home with little more than a small bag and the clothes on my back; only to emerge in the days following the massacre. There is no God or Lucifer, just the evils of the human mind.

Anger and fear surged throughout me as I walked home. I could no longer contain the repulsion I felt, that had been a part of me for so long. The stench of death rode heavily on the breeze. I know it to be nothing but an illusion. Common sense escaped me and I wondered how I was to survive the holocaust. How does one survive in an environment that wishes a bounty on ones head? From today onward, life became a surreal dreamscape, a perpetual nightmare from which I couldnt wake. I ran home as the sun became little more than a cool red ball on the horizon, worried the massacre may start a night early.

I gathered the few scraps of food I could find, my torch and the bundle of tattered maps resting on my desk. I wished to escape before the fearful rush of the rest of my species began, I hurriedly packed my small bag and stealthily left the house. I hastily made my way to the underground entrance following the city map ingrained in my mind. The system of tunnels would hopefully grant me asylum from the streets above. Trembling with fear, I could barely keep a secure grip on the ladder pegs. I felt my fingers slip, leaving me no option than to plunge into the darkness, unaware of what was below me. A dull thud echoed around me. I felt a sharp surge of pain. I dusted myself off and blindly felt around until I finally found my torch. I quickly glanced at my drab surroundings. No danger. I proceeded to the first junction. As I neared the junction, the tunnels became narrower and lower. Even with my small frame it was difficult to move through them. Undeterred, I began to move on all fours, eager to reach my final hiding spot. I often wondered if I should stay above ground and surrender to my fate. Perhaps then I could remain in my childish paradise, free from the burdens of my past life. I often entertained the idea of ending it myself, saving myself from the pain and misery repeated each year. Perhaps the bringing of my own unnatural demise would be less painful than the untimely crushing of my body and soul by the insanity of another being.

Concrete dust heavily coated my clothing and hair. I could feel it flow through my lungs with every breath I drew. I became disoriented as I scanned the surrounding area. Three other separate tunnels each branched from the circular courtyard I was standing in. I fumbled for my maps. I traced the red felt pen trail on the map. My only chance for survival was to turn left and head towards the abandoned intercity train tunnel. A musty smell began to overwhelm my nostrils as I plunged further into the darkness. My solitary footsteps echoed throughout the concrete tunnel. Luckily, this path was much easier to move through than the last and I felt I was making considerable time. My boots clicked the dust below me more quickly as I began to run, with nothing but the small beam of torchlight to guide me. The illusion of deaths stench plagued me once again. I was repulsed to the point of physical sickness. I fought it and continued to move. No matter how much I wanted to die, irrational fear taunted me to the point I no longer had the courage to do anything but run. Its all Ive ever been able to do and unless I take a stand, it's all I can do.

The ground beneath me crunched as I walked. I was now in the railway tunnel. This area had been forgotten since the last great war. It had been a favourite hiding place of the civilians to escape the terror on the streets above them. I knew little of the war, but reminders of it littered the tunnel. Scattered papers, sheets, deserted possessions of those who tried to survive. Stained bones poked through the gravel floor. I tried to avoid these depressing sites as I moved on. The same few lines of an old song echoed through my head. I think my aunt used to adore the band who wrote it. If only I could remember their name. If only I could remember hers.

I wish that things

Were still

The way they

Used to be

But only for a day so I could say that

I remembered you [1]

I started to calm slightly as I believed I was now completely isolated. Not a soul could touch me or sense me. My skin was moist from sweat. In the distance I could see the faint image of my destination. The corner of the world in which I was safe. Refreshing sensations of comfort and relaxation crept over me. I hurried towards the crack in the concrete I was to call home.

            Concealed in my cozy bunker, I sat alone with my thoughts. I wonder if this was once a storage area of some kind, the door now little more than a flaw in the construction. Song lyrics combined with erratic thoughts to produce a rather confused commentary. Exhausted and hungry, my eyelids grew heavy. I allowed myself to succumb to the luxury of sleep. I was confident no one could find me here.

            I violently awoke from my sleep, panicked by faint noises that werent there before. I listened, trying to decipher what I could hear. Footsteps. Distant, but approaching me none the less. Had I been stalked? Was it just another civilian seeking refuge? Thud, thud, thud. Heavy boots assaulted the concrete below them. Flicking my torch off, I wrenched myself from my bunker and darted blindly into the darkness. I didnt care whether the sound of my frightened footsteps echoed through the tunnels. I just wanted to escape. The second set of footsteps became angry and faster. Closing in on me. I fought the urge to look back and continued to run. Closer and closer. Louder and louder. Faster and faster. My legs ached and my breathing shortened. I kept running. I could hear him no more than a few metres behind me. Darkness prevented me from finding a clear path through the tunnel. I stumbled on stray railway sleepers, stones and relics from the great war. I habitually glanced over my shoulder in an attempt to identify my stalker. Darkness shrouded his face, his body, his weapons. I tripped on a large object. Unable to get up I cried silently in pain and fear. I prayed the stalker wouldnt notice me and keep plunging through the darkness. I was barely able to breathe. Every muscle ached. As the footsteps became deafeningly close, I closed my eyes, trying to escape the harsh reality.

            He threw himself onto my body and viciously rolled me on my back. Weakened, but determined, I struggled to force him away from me. My efforts were futile. I felt cold, sharp metal pierce my skin in a wave of immense pain. Warm, viscous liquid began to flow from the wound slowly weaving intricate streams over my arm, only to tumble drop by drop to the gravel below. I barely had the strength to scream. The knife entered my abdomen. I stared into the emptiness above me. I could hear the knife invade my body several times. I couldn't feel it. The sound of breaking flesh and metal scraping bone. I didn't even hear him leave.

            I lay here, engulfed in darkness, unaware of life or death. Am I still a victim of the abuses of an assassin? I reflect on the incidents of my life, of my subsequent end. I wonder if the miserable lives of those on the surface have too been unfairly snatched from their grasp. The limits of scientific knowledge had been destroyed and the responsibility of that knowledge childishly abandoned. As a result, we destroyed ourselves, our home, our Mother. As I fade into oblivion, I faintly sing to myself:

Tell me where does your justice start

what you say and what I see they are miles apart

Now I'm as guilty as any man or woman I declare

Of apathy and selfish greed and self interested affairs

Now why must we accept these things when after all

Theyre only handed down

Tell me when does your mercy begin

What you say and what I see

Looks like its come to an end.[2]