Apocalypse

I zip up my raincoat, grab a cutlass, readjust an oversized helmet and double-check the torch hiding next to my privates. It’s not dark enough here to use it, I decide. My destination is a wide cave within the rocks behind my house. I pray I find it empty or somebody may be doing some dying. My mother says a quick prayer and draws the sign of the cross over my head. In Igarra, one of few surviving cities, the end of the world is an everlasting, moonless night pregnant with untold horrors. The black sky tears open in pain as waves of shattering thunderstorms give way to sparks of blood-red lightning. Powerful quakes burst the earth open, swallowing strong men whole. Ravaging flood pours—drops like spikes. Some people, lighting their way with various devices, speak of happier times. Of a once shining sun and scintillating stars. They claim God ordered Angel Jibril to blow his golden trumpet before time as a punishment for our sins. A young boy calls out for help whilst I’m hurrying past. I stop and ask where he is headed. Instead of answering, his tiny hands stretch out, enveloping my legs in a death grip. I shake my torch. It lights his fingers. They resemble talons. I stare at the blind, milky eyes for some seconds before shoving him off. A couple more steps and I stumble over Prophetess Grace’s mangled corpse lying by the roadside. She used to be my brother’s lover. Her hairless head resembles a pest-infested corn farm. Why did I ever lust after her? It seems like ages ago that I watched her from our hideout, dancing round a burning quarry. “Follow me and the spirits shall keep you safe from that” she cried, pointing to the ravenous pit. The devil’s soldiers donned in glittering crowns of thorns and riding giant, silver horses, gallop towards me. Satan himself, informs me that in less than three hours, I’d be damned enough to earn my place amongst his party. The coldness of his words causes a shiver down my spine. I fall to the ground and kiss the sand between his feet. He lifts me up by a single, blood-red, flaming fingernail and carves the infamous cursed letters into my forehead. I feel faint, but when I touch my skin after, it is uninjured.

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