literature

His Fantasy

Deviation Actions

Miragician's avatar
By
Published:
1.3K Views

Literature Text

The air is thick with ashes, the sky is a crude grey with an endless onslaught of metallic clouds, and the earth is a cold, rotten wasteland. They are all that are left of a once colorful civilization.

Well, not all of it. In the midst of it all stands a young man, with ragged blond hair trailing down his shoulders and a torn bandanna around his neck. He is clad in a dusty black T-shirt, with a skull insignia blazed across it, and a pair of dirty and scuffed pants.

Ironically appropriate attire for the current situation.

Before him, a flimsy cross is set erect in the ruined soil, made from two planks of wood hastily nailed together.

Had the time been a few months earlier, the blond-haired boy would have undoubtedly been weeping his eyes out, sobbing uncontrollably as he suffered an onrush of memories through his head, painful ones. But now the sight of that cross has become routine, and his emotional response is dulled.

The boy picks up a bucket of water. Time to get to work.

He splashes the contents upon the ground in front of the wooden cross, moistening the soil. He then picks up a stick and begins to trace a letter in the dirt.

N

A flash of pain in his heart, but he takes no notice.

A

Another one. He continues, nonetheless, and eventually he gets the rest of the name traced. The boy inspects his handiwork briefly with tired eyes. His job is done, and it wouldn’t have to be done in a few more weeks.

Of course, the prospect of maintaining the two other graves occurs to him, and whatever happiness he felt, if he even felt any, is banished from his mind.

The young man then lays his body down to the lifeless earth, and begins to sleep.

And dream.

He dreams a fantasy of his life, making himself an adventurous hero in a world full of activity and life and countless opportunities.

Beside his side is a girl he knew. Except she isn’t dead. She smiles and laughs with him as they journey through this world he creates. Just as if it never happened.

And another boy and girl join them as they adventure. They aren’t dead either. The other boy teases his companion, much to her annoyance, and the other girl babbles on about something that happened somewhere.

They fight imaginary foes, fantastical ones that could never defeat them. If he happened to wish that they lost to some of them, they would immediately hop up back to life with a simple spell, ready to trounce their enemies anew.

It was a perfect world for him and his friends. Too bad it was only a fantasy, and he would have to wake up to the dark reality that awaited him every day.

A dark one-shot I wrote while I was feeling down. Serves as an alternate interpretation of Epic Battle Fantasy
© 2012 - 2024 Miragician
Comments8
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
happiperson's avatar
*down on knees, tears streaming down face, staring at the remnants of the pieces of my heart and soul strewn across the ground* what have you done