The Followers

There I was speechless

Observing meticulously, as the circular void depleted everything in its path, I tried to conceal myself from it but it had sucked me into an endless abyss of darkness. Perplexed and frightened I coiled into a ball like a hedgehog would do when it feels as if it is being threatened. Suddenly the endless abyss came to a halt and I found myself shrouded in a crowd of people who looked as if they had been protesting. Large banners and flags were swung in the air and people were chanting ‘GLARBLON!, GLARBLON!, GLARBLON!’. My anxiousness slowly poured out of my body and confusion replaced it. I looked around myself and immediately knew I wasn’t supposed to be here- there were tall, luminous skyscrapers rooted onto the spotless pavements around me compared to the wasteland I lived in, and the oddest thing was their language, I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t exist from where I come from. Still confused I decided to take refuge in a dingy alleyway that looked as if a massacre had occurred, dead bodies lied everywhere with minuscule flies hovering over them. What particularly shocked me was that the dead bodies definitely weren’t human. There was this repulsive feeling about them, their webbed fingers and toes and their tentacle like arms (six at the max) and their ostrich like head that made you want to vomit.

I slumped down onto the ground and eventually fell asleep from the endless waves of questions that had capsized my brain. But I hadn’t realised I had constantly been watched. I didn’t get enough sleep (as the moon’s neon glow still illuminated the landscape) however I had made up my mind to explore the area and familiarise myself with it. For some peculiar reason I thought had seen a face boring its dimly-lit yellow eyes into my back the whole time.