It wasn't meant to be like this.

This isn't a post where I bemoan my fate as a Runner. This is where I say that I'm surprised I made it this far. What happened on the Solstice was never meant to happen. I don't know why it did. But it shouldn't have.

I awoke in a forest. That by itself was a fact that should have scared me, but it was one I knew. A forest I had been to before. A forest that was familiar. The smell of pine needles. The sound of the rushing, bubbling brook. The eerie way it loomed over me.

The way it burned. Smoke and fire and brimstone coming up from beneath the ground, the animals fleeing from the hated fire. I could barely make out hazy, indistinct shapes before my eyes. I knew that there was a game trail beneath my feet that would take me to a clearing where I would be safe, momentarily, from the fire. I knew it wouldn't spread to the clearing until I was done.

One problem; I had never been to this particular forest. This particular forest didn't exist. It had been chopped down by lumberjacks for timber and for room to raise cattle. It was like a seesaw. Burning. Gone. Burning. Gone. Whether the fire could hurt me or not, I didn't know. I didn't want to learn, so I ran. I ran. Kept on running. It's all I'm good for. Didn't pay attention to those weaving, haunting illusions in the flames, the images distorted through the smoke. It wasn't for me. It was for



sorry its difficult to keep it inside its all inside and out the walls are closing in

I. I'm better. A bit. Sorry. I'm trying to keep it all bottled inside. I can't afford to break down right now. Not yet. Not until I'm done.

The forest was burning as I ran. The trees collapsed in on themselves, shuddering before exploding outwards in a burst of sap and bark. I remember looking up at the sky. It was dark. It was also daytime. There was no sun, no moons, no stars. Just nothing. Nothing.

There is nothing that the human mind can comprehend less than nothing. It is everything. Seems like an antonym, doesn't it? But if you had seen it, you'd know. Previously there had been celestial bodies. The constellations, the stars that handed the stories down from ages long gone. There was nobody to write these stories, nobody to whisper them to us as we curled up in our blankets and dreamed of a bright day, even as the night was so cold and frightening. Those stars were gone. There was nobody to pass down those stories anymore.

Even the moons, the eight moons which once encircled the planet had disappeared. They had been swallowed up long ago by the darkness, one by one. They had tried to hold on, they had tried to stop the spread, but it was no good. There was nothing for them to do but wait for the inevitable end.

Finally, eventually, my bones creaking, my muscles aching, hacking up a lung, I managed to reach the clearing. Burnt and tired and sweating and staggering, but I had made it. And I passed the grand tree at the north end. Ignored the spring of water. Ignored myself. Just so I could, from my momentary refuge, look into the flames and see it all.

I'm going to break into a house. Someone in that house will catch the infection of the mind that follows us all. She'll pass it onto a boy. He'll pass it onto a girl. Her, after years and years, to her child. Her child to a girl he will play with. That girl to another girl. That girl will be taken out of the equation. But along another path, another infection will follow. The boy who the girl who caught it from me will die. The officer inspecting his death will be stalked. He will pass it to a priest. A priest to an addict. An addict to a drug dealer. The drug dealer to his mother. His mother to a banker. That banker to his child. His child to his teacher. His teacher to a aspiring musician. The musician to a woman. The woman to her son. Her son will meet the girl we took out the equation and together they will spread it further then it has ever been spread before. Eventually, humanity will take to the stars. It, they, will follow. Eventually, the Quiet will claim all. All but one entity and its servant, who will flee it. They will spread the Quiet to everything until finally they alone stand against it. And then nobody knows. Not this particular entity. Not the Quiet. Not I.

I took a step backwards, into the spring. It wasn't water anymore. Another step back, squelching on the wet grass. Another step, and then I hear the low-pitched, groaning hum. Another step backwards, another squelch, the smell of smoke distant. It had been replaced by the harsh, coppery taste in the back of my throat. I heard something else behind me writhing, squelching just like my feet. I turned around. I saw it. I can't even type it. I'm telling my mind to tell my fingers to type the necessary words, but my mind will not relay the message. My fingers cannot let that information flow through them.

I turned around again. I turned around again to face myself. I stood there looking at myself. Myself stood there looking at me. The knife entered my stomach and exited once more and one of us fell to the ground, I don't know if it was me or me. As I bled out, my eyes closed. They were shut because I wouldn't, couldn't let them open back up.

And then I was awake, in a corridor I cannot leave. The walls have closed in. Blood is dripping out of the walls. The clock is striking thirteen even though they did the same thing half an hour ago. I've been awake for seven thirteens now. I don't know how long that is. I don't know if it's even a measurement of time.

I'll post as soon as I'm out. I'll see you in a few thirteens, if that's not a symptom of my brain shutting down. Once I figure out how to open the walls again.