Posts by Zacarias O. Marceau

It was early morning, the blood orange sun gently pushed up above the trees as it cast a radiant blanket of pinks and golds over the clouds. Upon the furthest reaches of the canopy the tree branches of aged giants swayed gently. A thin mist hugged the foliage infested ground and many animals stirred in the distance. However, there was a foreboding ambiance that hung in the air with a weight far too unbearable for the wildlife. Therefore, it was surprisingly silent within this given area. No Cartel members could be seen nearby, stalking the brush for intruders, and only one lone and dilapidated structure of sorts could be seen peaking out between the trees not too far off. Even the river seemed strangely still and lifeless today. Without the slightest warning, flocks of birds took off from the trees as a rumble came from the Earth. A violent earthquake began to shake the trees right down to their roots. A few buildings crumbled either from the quake or from a falling tree. Animals shrieked in terror as a crack formed near the river, busting open violently as if to threaten releasing some terrible horror. Instead, plumes of smoke and ash bellowed from the mouth in the ground until the shaking finally ceased.

Slowly, quietly, the sounds of the animals returned. However, there was still an uncertainty in the air, as though many were fearing an aftershock. Out of the blue, a figure emerged from the crack, bathed in lava as it slumped to the ground just a few mere feet from its origin. Smoke still rose into the air from the newfound scar in the jungle as lava melted away from the lump on the ground to reveal an animal-like frame. Whatever it was, it did not stir. The only movement to signal life was the gentle rise and fall of its sides. The lupine's eyes opened half-way, groaning as it attempted to struggle to its feet, only to cough up smoke and fall back down onto its side.

//cough alright, so, i feel as though this might be a pitiful start. my apologies.

The animal knew not where he was, or what he was for that matter. He was dazed and confused as his senses become overwhelmed by his colorful and scent filled surroundings. His ears ringed; his nostrils burned and his eyes began to water. However, it was lava that formed around his tear ducts rather than actual tears. He blinked them away as his vision began to clear just in time for something yellow to come into his line of sight. "Can you talk?" His ears perked in response, revealing the fact that he was conscious, at the very least. However, having never seen anything living before, he just laid there until everything came into full focus. It's a cat. How on Earth he knew what it was called was beyond him. His frame twitched, his eyes rolling to the back of his head for second. There was a gurgling sound as lava left his mouth before he suddenly righted himself. His throat felt as though it had been slashed with knives, his bones felt like they were on fire, and his eyes were agitated. All around it wasn't a good time to be alive, at least for him. He shook his head as though to force his eyes to look forward again, somehow succeeding in this endeavor.

It was only then that he instantly remembered the question he had been asked. "Yes, I can speak." He replied, the words leaving him with ease. He never remembered learning how to talk, but he just decided to go along with whatever was happening. He sat up, shaking his head again as lava began to bubble up from his back. He then glanced around, finally taking in his surroundings. He was in a jungle with a floating cat. For a second he pondered if he was high, but then a thought dawned on him. Wait, weren't jungles supposed to be hot? He appeared to have yet to realize how much heat he himself was radiating. Even though it would seem that he should ask where he was, what was happening, or who the cat was, he merely sat there with a mildly confused look on his face. He barely seemed to register that the other animal was still there. When he turned his head around and noticed the crack in the ground and he finally seemed to gather something from the situation. "Did I just emerge from the Earth's *ss crack?"

Zacarias was the last to arrive into the world. He was delivered from warmth and peace into the cold and great disturbance. He could not see it or hear it, but he felt the violence of air around him, through the vibrations that shook the wood beneath him. He felt the roughness of the ground beneath him and immediately wanted to return to his former shelter. He obviously wasn't able to voice this, not in the slightest, as he laid on the floor.

As one would suspect from a baby, they were weak compared to those who have existed longer than they. However, his body was smaller and more feeble than a regular pup. He was weak; he was the runt, the least likely to survive. Evidence of this was written all over his frame. There was also something else horribly wrong.

His body was still, just as still as the dead ones.

He struggled internally in this strange stillness he was trapped in. He needed air ever so desperately. Then he felt it, warmth running down his back as the hands of death steadily slipped from his lungs as though loosing it's grip. A tiny cough left him.

Air. Sweet air.

It was in this moment that a great wail left him, or (at least) the greatest his delicate lungs could manage. Then he felt himself be gently pushed forward towards warmth and softness. Whatever this warmth was, even though it had abandoned him, returned to save his life. He didn't know how to feel. For now, instinct kicked in and he inched closer to this warmth to feed.

For now he was safe. As long as warmth was with him, he would be okay. This warmth would be his ultimate protector against death; they would keep it at bay. Innocent, simpler thoughts than these was what he knew. What he didn't know was that he was only clinging onto life by a thread and that death still lurked around the corner.

//mobile