The Decameron 2.0

Day 4.6 Misunderstanding - WAR OF THE WORDS Godhand

Having finished her story, and not eager for the silence to creep back in, Heather asked Emily, "So what's your story?"

The woman tending the fire didn't answer at first. Instead she continued humming 'taps', until she sang it under her breath.

"Fading light, dims the sight,

And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright.

From afar, drawing nigh, falls the night.

Thanks and praise, for our days,

'Neath the sun, 'neath the stars, neath the sky;

As we go, this we know, God is nigh...".

She dropped a stack of broken desks into the flames, sending a flurry of yellow embers upwards. They floated through the broken ceiling and disappeared into the stinging white snow above.

"I could have stopped it, you know," she said.

The classroom was warm despite the raging snowstorm outside. Orange firelight flickered across everyone's faces.

The woman who spoke stirred the makeshift trash fire that crackled between them. The tops of the student's desks had been unceremoniously donated to the metal bin but the books remained untouched. Instead, stacks of heavy hardbacks were piled in a makeshift throne.

She appeared young and could have passed for a former student at the school. Under the dirt of the streets and a bandana tied around her mouth, she was beautiful, with deathly pale skin and cropped black hair.

The fire keeper took a seat on her throne of books.

"My name is Emily, and this is all my fault."

Emily waved her fingers in front of her eyes. "Well. To be fully honest, it's this thing I have. You see, I get these visions sometimes. Dreams, really. I grew up in a small town and they thought I was just...a goddamned blessing."

She laughed.

"Will they find love? Will they ever make amends with their family? Are they going to die? Not knowing was the worst for them, even though the answer to all of them is 'statistically likely'. I used to think it didn't matter what answers I gave them, though I told them exactly what my visions said. Just the fact that they felt empowered to make the changes they wanted was enough for most people."

She picked up a piece of flayed animal and impaled its flesh through the mouth to roast over the fire.

"I remember it was three days before The End. I had a dream that I was Alyssa, and that I had just gotten off my shift at the local radio station with my lottery ticket in hand. I never won big. Not on purpose. Attracts too much attention, you know? But my coworkers kept my secrets because I'd donate the bigger wins to the local school or church. If someone's going to win, it might as well have gone to my town."

Emily sniffed the meat and wrinkled her nose as if it were still sour. She sighed and held it back over the fire. The juices dripped into the flames while the skin crackled.

"I thought it was just a bad dream. Something to represent something bigger, you know?" she said, lowering the bandana to speak clearer, ""It was all just...a big misunderstanding."

War of the Words

By @Godhand

I remember it started when I walked into the local dive bar to listen to the lottery numbers with my drinking buddies. The walls were stained brown from years of tobacco smoke but it was a second home. We were already cheering before they even announced the winning numbers, because when was I wrong? The bartender's daughter needed surgery, so we were placing our faith in my gift of prophecy.

Ultimately, I think it's a curse.

We drank so much in celebration. I woke up in my car with the worst headache. But my memories were all...wrong. I kept having flashbacks of visions I had while drunk. The world on fire. Brother fighting brother. Resistance groups fighting back against the police and the National Guard, fighting each other over differing approaches. Families hiding in their basements and children cowering in closets. Everyone just wanted to survive.

And I guess I told my buddies and was crying. They believed me. I kept saying, "In three days, in three days..." over and over while drinking to try to forget. But that just made more visions come so they kept pouring for me.

We weren't sure what caused the upset, the visions didn't say, and I guess it didn't matter. In a small town, good news spreads like people lighting each other's candles, but bad news spreads like wildfire.

When you tell people there's an apocalypse coming, it shouldn't be any wonder they prepare for it, I guess.

Three major groups popped up. I played them all, because they all wanted my visions for their own cause, and I wanted peace. If the The End was coming, shouldn't we have prepared together instead of finding blame for who was going to cause it?

A fourth wanted to burn me, thinking that would stop the prophecy if I was sacrificed. I know I don't know everything about precognition, but I'm pretty sure the future doesn't work like that.

It started with intimidation of protesters who didn't align with whatever vision they had of how the world would end. In Fire? In Ice? One then the other? Flood? Famine? Zombies? No one had any idea where the destruction would come from. And that terrified them.

First they burned effigies in the streets. One even was of me. Then they burned symbols on lawns. Then the houses themselves were lit on fire, with the scared people trapped inside. Public executions of protesters in the town square. Those jailed who weren't broken out were left to starve, if the infection from their wounds didn't get them first.

By the third day, the fighting stopped as we anticipated the thing that would destroy us. We held what remained of our friends and family. I took shelter in the bar and bunkered down with my buddies who were protecting me.

And on the third day, nothing happened. And the collapsed remnants of this society came literally beating down my door...

Emily sighed and covered her face with the bandana. She pulled a black hood over her head and curled up with her knees to her chest on the ashen floor.

"I thought it was just a dream. But when I woke up...well. Here we are, right?"

She looked at the piece of meat, charred and seared to a crisp. She offered it to those around her then dropped it into the fire and said nothing.