# Off-Topic Discussion > Artists' Corner >  >  Dystopian Dream

## WakataDreamer

He looked around. At first only simple thoughts came to mind. _Feet. Running. Dark. Fence. Metal._ Confusion. And then the thoughts became more complex. _Dimly lit. Orange glow. Concrete. Buildings. Looks like a prison. Where are the people? Hmm… deserted._ And then a shadowed shape darted across a rooftop in the distance, headed for him. Simple thoughts returned. _What? Stop running. Examine. Shadow. Unknown._ More confusion. _Heading this way. Afraid. Fear._ The fear kicked the analytical part of his mind into gear to deal with the threat, which, once awoken, proceeded to ask the most logical question yet. _Where am I?_ He wasn’t sure how to answer that one. He didn’t remember. He didn’t know. He remembered nothing previous to the recent memory of realizing that he was running. And then he spied the shadow again and fear returned. 



  His legs were rooted to the spot. The creature was running along the rooftop of the long, one-story, concrete building to his left, in his direction. He suddenly realized that he was wearing a hooded cloak. It had secret pockets on its inside. He checked them. The shadow was coming closer still. It was only 15 feet away. He could hear the slapping of its hands on the roof, and its excited grunting. It seemed to be crawling in a grotesque fashion, using its arms to propel itself rapidly along the roof. His fingers closed around something metal in one of the pockets. He withdrew it. It was a revolver. How had he missed that? The creature was on his direct left on the roof. It had reached him. 



  He could see it clearly now. It was humanoid. In fact, it very much resembled a man, but something was wrong. Its eyes were blood red. It also possessed fangs, and it was obviously not intelligent. It seemed to be running on primal urges and instincts alone. There was no deep thought in its eyes, only a slight look of concentration on its victim as it decided when to make its move. He pulled the gun out of his pocket and aimed at the creature. The creature snarled and launched itself at him. Oh no! Was the gun loaded?! He pulled the trigger, and there was a loud bang that echoed in the night, and a flash of white light. 



  The creature dropped like a stone, a look of anger etched on its wild face. He looked at it closer. He noticed that its skin was moon white. This was a human gone bad. It was more animal than human. Something had happened to it to make it like this, and he didn’t want to stick around to find out. He ran off in the direction that he had come, and suddenly he was running into blackness…then nothingness…then colors slowly returned as he opened his eyes and heard his alarm going off. It was 6:30 in the morning and he had to get ready for school.













Born of boredom and a keyboard, thanks for reading!  ::D: 

Mort short stories to come, maybe? We'll see.  :smiley: 

EDIT: MOAR!

----------

