AbraPunk
Cosmic Guardian
Written for the 2023 contest.
Content warnings for blood, gore, death.
Content warnings for blood, gore, death.
Dead, decomposing ocean-life drifted across the murky waters, bits of flesh peeling to scatter in the endless abyss. An encroaching black mass further tainted the waters, turning both it and the distant sands into an all-consuming void.
Elsewhere, metal abominations came to life, and mindlessly tore through trees and animals alike, severing bark from root, and flesh from bone, spurred on only by the humans controlling them, those who were intoxicated purely by the joy of destroying that on which they relied to survive.
He watched as the humans continued their massacre of the natural world, and felt bitter bile borne of hatred rise in his throat as they laughed.
They laughed, as though they didn’t have a care in the world, as though this wasn’t utter desecration of everything that he had ever made.
If they were going to treat the earth as though it were disposable, replaceable… he would show the humans that they were expendable, not nature.
He gathered the guardians of the oceans: the whale, the bird, and the dragon. They spoke to him, asking inane questions, and they received no answers. There was only silence when he looked upon them for the last time.
Their screams soon filled the empty air, as he tore them apart, so that only their elements remained, and their blood ran in rivers, joining and coagulating into a semi-circle.
He turned back to the earth. As he watched, the oceans rose and swallowed coastline cities, consuming those foolish humans who had dared to come so close to the waters. Unrelenting, merciless waves battered at man-made structures, and effortlessly tore them down, leaving nothing behind. Carcass-infested waters tore through concrete jungles, turning them into parades of death.
The humans eventually found higher ground, where the waters could not reach… for the time-being. Many of their cities had been destroyed, left to be submerged and rot under the waves.
He inwardly cursed humans and their stubborn refusal to die. All was not lost, of course. There were still so many more punishments to inflict upon them…
So he gathered more and more of his kind, tore them down to their pure incarnations, and let their blood flow together. The circle grew more complete with each death, and the humans suffered more with each new disaster.
First, their false dreams of flight were crushed, as their caricatures of steel and fuel were sent plummeting, exploding into magnificent fireballs when they collided with what remained of the ground.
Then, they had borne witness to a new plague, the last plague, as the remaining humans spewed blood, bile, and mucus from ruined throats.
The clouds vanished, and the skies darkened until all that remained was the suffocating night, that which would never again give way to the light.
Amongst the last of his kind to be sacrificed were the incarnations of fire and lightning. They had grown wise to his plans, and fought valiantly, but it was to no avail. Their time had come, and they knew it. That didn’t mean they would go quietly into the night.
Fire, in its corporeal form, raged and burned with all its might. He watched, knowing deep down that every flame had to die out eventually. Countless obscenities were thrown his way, none of which reached him. Amidst the sea of fire, there was the occasional lull, a question, asking… Why? Why did any of this have to happen?
He gave no answer. Of course, he knew why this was happening, and he also knew that none of his brethren would have agreed with his methods. They would have sought peace and understanding with the humans, a peaceful, diplomatic solution to an unsolvable problem.
In his eyes, the only way to solve the problem was to ensure it would never happen again. Thus, the humans needed to die.
Once the fire finally died down, he tore it apart, until not even embers remained.
Lightning, true to itself, remained silent and passive.
It did not rage, or scream, or… do much of anything. All it did was stand and stare at him.
He waited for something, an attack, a string of scathing remarks… but nothing came.
Finally, after what could have been an eternity, it spoke. It told him that he was a fool for believing that he was doing the right thing.
Then it opened its arms wide, and tilted its head back towards the void of space. Like dust, it crumbled away, leaving nothing, not even the faintest spark.
The combined blood of fire and lightning flowed into the circle, bringing it one step closer to completion.
As for the earth, or what remained of it…
Though no clouds remained within the atmosphere, storms blanketed the world, lightning striking indiscriminately, leaving blazing infernos in their wake. Within the far reaches of outer space, pieces of meteors broke off, and hurtled towards earth, striking dead lands, burning the waters, scorching what little wildlife remained.
The earth was truly dead, and so were the humans. Nothing was alive, nothing at all.
He supposed he had done it, then. The humans had finally stopped defiling the world in which they lived… at the cost of everything else.
He turned towards his very last kin, the one who understood nothing.
They did not know why the earth was dead, or that he had anything to do with it. All they knew was that he was deeply mournful.
It was not for the earth.
The innocent one— the very incarnation of life itself— was the last to die, and it was their blood that finally, finally completed the circle, forming a perfect globe.
He stared at the complete globe for what could have been either seconds or centuries. As he stared at it, it grew, and continued growing, until it was the size of the dead planet.
That earth had died, and with it, everything that had lived on the planet, along with every one of his kin.
Next time, he would ensure that it would not happen again. But if it did…
He would simply have to repeat this process until the humans finally learned their lesson.
