A Time Beginning

The chain slipped down his neck and rested gently against his collar bone. A tight fit, for sure, but an honor regardless.

Rubbing his eyes he glanced again into the stained mirror.

Hollowed eyes, patches of fur spotting still around my neck and cheeks. I'd hoped that the razor would have lasted a bit longer.

Sighing, he scraped his nails against the hairs, and stared blankly into his eyes again.

The world has shifted so drastically since leaders revelled in their greed and power. The masses had gotten so fed up with being used and walked on that even the complacent sheep baa'd a different tune. Demanding better pay and more time off from their menial jobs. Seeking out to enjoy life and the fruits of their labor so far, rather than continue to work towards building a stable future for themselves.

Honestly that should've been the first sign that something had gone completely wrong.

But I still don't think any of us even believe that we are in the situation we are in now.

Hell I watched a group of men in tattered business suits walk to what seemed to be the remnants of an office building and put their heads together just the other day.

Lord only knows what they are seeking to create or build back up.

After that, chaos and terror dug their claws into the backs of the masses and flung them into a raging inferno. Fighting back hadn't truly been an option, for even those that had managed to get themselves well organized before the fall out. The smart ones hid, buried their heads into their distractions, and continued forth the best that they could.

So few survived overall.

Cities have crumbled; deteriorated to the point of fauna and flora out numbering the living inhabitants remaining. Blocking pathways, doorways, waterways. Electric has been out since before his 21st birthday, and lord only knows how long ago that was. Plenty to eat, plenty to explore and find. But there was still plenty of danger.

What still confuses me, is the fact that there have never been any bodies. No bloated corpses, or skeletons dropping out of ceilings. No blood, nor gore. No pained screaming, no begging for life.

Just emptiness after that bright flash.

A haunting silence that trapped so many in their towns.

Sighing again, he bowed his head against the mirror.

What is there to do, but focus on forward momentum, and peace? Bury my head into whatever will please my being, and then reign in the rest of my life after that, building, connecting, growing. Not that there are many people to particularly connect with at this point, but who's to say that there aren't more nomads out there?

A tapping on his door shook him out of his thoughts.

No one has ever come around here before, not that I've seen anyway. Maybe nighters. Hopefully nighters. They're less of a threat than the wayward or nameless cults that seem to wander through ever so often.

He searched around the bathroom for some semblance of a weapon. A dingy bathtub - barren and stained, cracking due to amount of neglect and lack of water. A dry toilet, mostly used as a thinking spot at this point. A small shattered mirror he earned on one of his excursions.

A shard of glass would be enough to at least give me a chance to run, granted if there is even a threat outside my door.

He eyed the mirror again. The mirror itself was mostly useless at this point, potentially good for starting small fires or torturing ants, but hardly useful for any sort of vanity. Not much of a prize in most people's eyes, but the stand itself was what he had been awed by.

Even before that fatal bright flash, he had never seen anything like it. Sturdy metal material lined with flecks of gold and silver that seemed to be constantly flashing.

Hours he could sit there and just stare at those little flecks and dream of the way the world used to be.

Back when appearances mattered above survival itself.

And to think he nearly lost his life for that mirror.

The tapping shook him out of his thoughts again. This time having him realize that it was the locked door handle attempting to be turned by someone on the other side.

Do I hold my breath and just get ready for self defense? Or make the first move, and hope they mean me no harm?

His hands shook as he attempted to gently pull a piece of glass out of the shattered mirror. Nicking his finger tips in a few places, but nothing more than droplets of blood appeared.

He steadied his nerves, and called out to the stranger on the other side.

"Hello? This room is kind of occupaido at this point friend, might just want to move along."

Silence met him.

Well that's not a good sign. Potentially someone realized it was locked and moved along, but if they're searching for someone to loot, they'll still be found in the halls. What am I to do at this point? The only exit and entrance is through that door.

His thoughts paced back and forth as he himself sat still. Curious as to what course of action would be the one to give him the best chance at a longer life.

Shutting his eyes, he breathed in and settled on his decision.

Standing, he took a soft step back to the door, and placed his hand on the handle.

Worst case I die, best case I make a friend.

He ripped the door open with one arm up protecting what vitals it could, and the other arm ready to strike with the glass.

The glass shattered as it slipped through his grasp.

A roll of paper, partly burned and lumpy met him at his doorstep, wrapped in what seemed to be human hair. A single word written on the side facing him.

W E L C O M E

Checking the hall around him, he realized he was alone again.

The cults aren't known for gaining followers this way. A new cult perhaps? Or some admirer too shy to meet me, and more interest in silly games?

Right, because admirers are what I should be thinking about at this point.

He rolled his eyes in spite of himself, and reached for the roll.

Before he could even unravel it, a small metal object fell out and tumbled to the ground.

A coin? Some shiny object they're using as currency now maybe?

He reached down again, gingerly picking up a small copper heart shaped locket. It had popped open after the fall. Inside it held a photograph of a child and a small animal of sorts.

That's.... That's.... ME?!

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