Post by account_disabled on Dec 12, 2023 23:49:43 GMT -6
Destroyed cities, annihilated by paroxysmal pseudo-earthquakes, the planet a web of gashes, fissures, furrows. Everything sank down into the hell of the underground. No more communities, no more continents, no longer the very idea of nations, populations, lives. We were just survivors who had to do nothing but dig, spit dirt, climb from level to level until we hit the surface again. If there was still a surface up there. From the clouds came a pale light. It was daytime, she realized.
She pulled her jacket tighter around her, but the Phone Number Data cold still attacked her. He was hungry. He wandered for a few minutes in search of food, rummaging through the debris. It was difficult, he realized, to understand what had collapsed, whether the remains of a building, a road, a field. Everything was always chaos of elements, materials, bodies. The pangs in my stomach came quickly. She didn't remember when she had last eaten anything. They had found some dog carcasses, days before, the meat not yet spoiled. They had fed on it by devouring it cold, skinning the beasts by hand or using sharp stones like their prehistoric ancestors.
He found the body of one of his companions. The face disfigured, the skull smashed by a boulder. Two missing limbs. I go back. He crouched in the shelter of some rocks, on the wall of the fracture. There was. I became certain of this when the portion of sky visible from the bottom of my level became increasingly larger. And from the voices that came, distant, but clear: human voices. There was still a surface, there was still life up there, somewhere. Someone had managed to climb back up, to survive the collapses, to get out of the Levels.
She pulled her jacket tighter around her, but the Phone Number Data cold still attacked her. He was hungry. He wandered for a few minutes in search of food, rummaging through the debris. It was difficult, he realized, to understand what had collapsed, whether the remains of a building, a road, a field. Everything was always chaos of elements, materials, bodies. The pangs in my stomach came quickly. She didn't remember when she had last eaten anything. They had found some dog carcasses, days before, the meat not yet spoiled. They had fed on it by devouring it cold, skinning the beasts by hand or using sharp stones like their prehistoric ancestors.
He found the body of one of his companions. The face disfigured, the skull smashed by a boulder. Two missing limbs. I go back. He crouched in the shelter of some rocks, on the wall of the fracture. There was. I became certain of this when the portion of sky visible from the bottom of my level became increasingly larger. And from the voices that came, distant, but clear: human voices. There was still a surface, there was still life up there, somewhere. Someone had managed to climb back up, to survive the collapses, to get out of the Levels.