Polluted

This wasn’t meant to happen, I stand still. My shoulders hunched back, waiting, I see blood stained pavements, the dead grass and a dark horizon. The sky is a dreary grey with tears of sunlight tearing through the clouds; the sunlight was out of place in this dull world, I created. Hobbling, I spotted mould creeping up the walls. The smell of decay still lingered in the air. Probably, from the hunched up corpse of my wife lying in the corner.
The sight of her sent my mind into a disorientation of thoughts and feelings after spending years alone, in this cold dreary world. I limped out of the house, as a sharp gust of polluted air heaved its way along. A dark tower loomed out of the pollution below it. Its features were sharp as knives. That’s where it all began.

You can’t see the chimneys anymore, because of the pollution around the lead tower. Chimneys, that’s where it came from; these chimneys, nobody checked the pollution levels, no-one checked the safety, and even worse no-one checked the tower. I remember the day, where a dark green fog creped out of each chimney. Spreading, thoroughly through out each house. Into every crack and corner, invading peoples sleep and even invading their very essence of being. Except me. I was at the very heart of the operation. I was the power supply; that doesn’t matter anymore. A sharp gust broke me from the memories, spreading feathers around the street.

The soft golden feathers quickly broke away form the wind, falling gracefully to the floor. Grudging along, I noticed a cloaked figure walking almost gracefully, if it weren’t for the limp body he held in his arms. His pupils flashed red; his hair was a mangy black and blood spread thinly on his cheeks. I shrank quietly into the shadows.

Five minuets later, I emerged again; hoping not to be seen. A thick dark sickly green fog rolled out of the chimneys. A type of fog that makes you shiver, a type of fog that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. A type of fog that could be a splinter in your heart; tearing away until you loose your very being, your soul. There was no way I could escape it and still get to the tower. Well there was one way, but it’s very dangerous.

Dealing with danger everyday had made me prepared for this. I limped to the roof of the nearest house using the fire escape in an agonisingly slow movement; making my heart skip a beat as I saw how close the fog was. Removing my black leather trench coat and t-shirt; throwing the t-shirt to the ground. Then, I jumped. My wings spread out wide, making me air borne; flying me higher than any bird and the fog. Shooting up, puncturing the dreary grey clouds; faster than an eagle more stream-line than a hawk. My brilliant golden feathers taking me towards the sunlight. Wind soaring past me, going the opposite direction, throwing dirt into my hazel eyes and black ragged hair. My eyes began to water; I looked down, trying to judge where bouts the tower was.

I found it; luckily the tower jabs into the sky like an injection of suffering and control. My wings slowed, as I circled the tower, beating at a constant speed like my heart beat. I slowly descended; I found what looked to be an abonded launch pad. Weeds grew out of cracks, the gravel was broken and bits of broken tar were scattered every where. It was a perfect place for me to land. As I sank down to the launch pad, the rocks scattered from the air been pushed down by my wings. Thump, I landed very hard on my good leg.

I don’t remember how I injured my leg; I just haven’t been able to walk on it since my escape from this very tower 10 years ago; when it all changed. Yes I was the power source but that doesn’t mean I wanted to be. I use to be an angel before that man, that thing, changed me. Now, all I have is my wings, he took my angelic halo which was my essence and he used it to power his contraption. Now look at the world, blood stained and sorrowful; creatures without souls feeding off each other, there must be some good out there. That’s why I’ve come here, if there’s good out there I’m going to give it a chance. I’m going to kill this creature, which is hiding in the dark like the monster under your bed.

Killing the creature is harder than it seems. Its pitch black inside and the features on the inside are like the outside. The stairs were steep and the walls where made out of square bits of random metal. I kept on climbing the stairs agonisingly slow, so that my leg didn’t hurt too much.

I stopped walking; there was a peculiar room to my left. The walls were bear and damp with florescent lights. A rather large grey room though the only thing in there was a cage; a broken cage. The atmosphere round it was horrible; there was no way I was going inside. Walking up the stairs again, I came across another room. This one was much nicer than the last one. A glass window showing the outside world, directly opposite the red oak door, to the left there was a bookcase containing thick volumes. Opposite the bookcase there were bits of paper on and a skull, which seemed to be glowing red where the eyes should have been. Behind the desk there was a purple computer chair, to match the green carpet. “Hello Mitch, glad to see you’ve come back.”

A figure had stepped out of the shadows behind the door. His hair was pitch black with a neat cut which was neatly flattened down with what looked to be hair gel. He had dark brown eyes, with a tint of green and there was no blood round his mouth like with the rest of the human race. His trousers were a dull coloured grey and so was his blazer; underneath he wore a white shirt as if he was going to a meeting.
“Going anywhere nice by any chance?” I asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes actually Mitch, I’m going to see your death.”
“Well before you try to kill can you please answer a question?”
“Well, I did think we should have a chat for old time sake, drink?”
The strange figure walked over to the desk and pulled out a small glass bottle with an orange liquid in it out of his draw and 2 small glasses. Then he sat down holding out his arm in an offering for me to sit down as well on a seat that seemed to appear out of no where. Poured the orange liquid into the 2 small glasses; sipping one himself offered the other to me. I took a quick sip and a burning sensation went down my throat as a consequence; I nearly gagged but I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“So the Mitch, what’s this question of yours?”
“Why did you change the world using me?”
“That’s the beauty of all of this Mitch; I didn’t mean to pollute the world that was just an accident, but a brilliant one all the same.

“You see, when you escaped the whole plant looked as if it was going to collapse into its self, after all, you were the main person running this plant; until you fell into some toxic waste. This gave you those wings and wiped pretty much all of your memory. You then started lashing out at people, so we locked you in that cage; not much good it did you. Then you escaped, to the outside world and you calmed down. The same night the plant started shutting down, there wasn’t enough coming out the chimney so we doubled the amount and the doubled it again when it still didn’t come out. Then it all wheezed out as a green fog. No-one thought this would happen, but it did and it has cleared all the scumbags off the world and I’m the only human, proper human, left. When I die, nature will run its course and the earth will go back to the way it started off with before humans.”
The way he talked so strongly about this and his facial expressions told me he felt so strongly about this. That this was the real truth, but there was something else that was bothering me.

“So what happened to my wife? She was looking into the heath and safety in this plant.” I asked in a menacing voice as if I was growling at him.
“Yes, darling Elizabeth, we decided that she would report the incident ,oh and we wanted to get back at you for deserting us. After all, you’re not an angel. You are a freak. Who fell into some toxic waste and grew wings, that doesn’t make you special and better than the rest of us!”

Sparks danced in his eyes, showing how much he enjoyed torturing me. About me wife and the accident that made me into what I am today. Before I even knew what I was doing I flew at him; full speed and pushed him into the wall behind him. Making him yelp in surprise, the sparks in his eyes danced as I reacted. I put my feet back on the floor and loosened my grip on him. Which was a mistake; he still had hold of his glass. He hit me in the middle of the face with the glass, the glass smash and some of it fell to the floor, other bits were stuck in the middle of my face. I could feel the blood slowly trickling down my face. My warm scarlet blood dripped on the carpet leaving stains. A murderous look passed quickly across the strangers face, but it was enough to know that he wanted me dead.

I slowly backed away limping still into the middle of the room; the man followed me. Shouting “Ever wondered why you never felt guilty about turning the world into what it is?! That’s because you have no soul, no conscience to battle; it’s because you’re heartless!”
Tears pricked my eyes like needles. Instead of replying I flew at him as he walked in front of the window; in front of me. We both crashed through the window, my open wings got shredded meaning they were hopeless and painful to use for flying. We fought as we fell to the ground, I shouted a reply to his earlier remark “I’m not heartless, that’s you. You killed my wife and destroyed life as we knew it, and you will pay for your sins.” I gasped my last breath of polluted air as we hit the bloodstained pavement. The last thing I saw wasn’t the shocked expression of the man, not the creature that were going to feast on our lifeless corpses or the tear of sunlight that landed on us. Instead the last thing I saw was my dead wife swooping towards me and pulling me toward the brightest light I ever saw.