The alien hears them from his solitary fortress. Violence, sickness, and starvation echo through ruined cities, the rusting rib-cage of the dying world. He has always heard them; from the moment of planet-fall, his super-hearing has been assaulted by humanity’s long screams of suicide. He used to care, before endless pathetic mewling hardened his heart. He used to act, before disgust at savagery overcame empathy. They begged, prayed, demanded help; refusing, unable to help themselves. After a time he stopped caring. Stopped acting. Sitting in his melting castle, he waits for a lasting silence to indicate an end. Extinction. Peace.
Word Count: 99 Another Friday Fictioneers (hosted by ever lovely Rochelle)- where the challenge is to write a story in 100 words or less, inspired by a weekly photo prompt. I saw this one and thought of the Ouroboros, the serpent that bites it own tale. Jörmungandr is the world serpent from Norse mythology, an Ouroboros so large that he encircles the globe – and when he lets go, the world ends. The rest of the stories are available by clicking here. Let me know what you think. Cheers KT