Echoes of Eternity

ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖 - 𝔼𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕

Year 2035 after the Cataclysm. Düsseldorf, NRW, Germany

Before the sun had even begun to rise, I found myself perched at the edge of a crumbling building, looking down upon the ghostly ruins of what once was Düsseldorf's bustling city square.

Below, the infected wandered aimlessly – previous humans who were now nothing but hollow shells drifting in apocalyptic land. Their haunting moans sliced through the silence of dawn, a melody I'd heard far too often.

As I breathed in the ash-laden air, I let out a sigh.

It's getting cold.

It took only one step forward for me to feel like I was going to tumble. But my heart remained frozen, refusing to acknowledge that death was staring at me in the eyes.

The ledge on which I stood crumbled under my feet, sending a cascade of debris into the abyss below. The infected turned, their lifeless eyes briefly locking with mine. Finding no signs of prey after a couple seconds, they resumed their eternal wandering.

It was hard to tell who was the hollow among us. I grinned awkwardly at my own thinking, feeling stiffness at the corners of my lips.

Over the horizon, an ominous light emerged, signifying the start of a new day.

Without hesitation, I stepped off the edge.

In that fleeting moment of freedom, I could hear nothing except the ground rushing up to meet me and the roar of the wind echoing in my ears.

Boom!

With a thunderous crash, I hit the ground. My bones shattered, my skin ripped, and the breath was driven from my lungs. The pain hit me like a battering ram; it felt like white-burning knives were piercing every inch of my skin, and hot stars burst through my field of vision.

Yet, as always, my body began to mend itself. Bones knit back together, the flesh repaired itself, and agony slowly faded.

I slowly climbed to my feet, soaked in thick scarlet blood mixed with dirt. My skin, alas, remained as flawless as a baby's, like it had never suffered any kind of injury.

Why?

The infected gathered around me, drawn by the noise of my fall. Their grotesque faces, twisted by the virus, were nothing more than a blur. As I dropped my shoulders, I could almost taste the iron in the air from the blood all around me. A taste that followed me around like a shadow.

Why?

I felt like laughing, but I had forgotten how to do so. Like a trigger, my eerie smile set the infected in motion.

They swarmed around me. Their decayed hands clawed at my torso, inflicting tiny cuts that healed before they could form, while their teeth bit into my flesh that refused to yield.

Why can't I die?!

Numbness crept in.

Although parts of my body were being constantly torn apart by the bites of the infected, I moved. Each step was heavy, carrying a burden beyond the infected's mindless hunger.

I pushed through the horde with only my two legs, undeterred by their bites and scratches. Even the mindless abominations could not outlast me and were left writhing on the asphalt, their muscles aching from too much exertion.

I found myself trudging down the desolate Königsallee in the heart of the city, unfamiliar with the destroyed landscape. The office buildings, restaurants, and shopping malls stood as hollowed skeletons, their facades crumbling under the relentless march of time.