This was written straight into Facebook messenger to my best friend. Never let it be said that I am a super serious author who’s too uptight.
Odd Sock Mountain: The apocalypse.
The time had come. The moment I’d been dreading for every waking moment, for what felt like an eternity. I gripped my weapon of choice tighter, the smooth wood a comforting presence in my hands. Slowly I opened the door, unsure what to expect. It had been years since someone had embarked on this quest. I’d drawn the short straw, they were making preparations for life without me as I edged forwards into the darkness.
There had been whispers, theories, and even myths about what happened here, in this forbidden place. None of them had prepared me for the truth.
They emerged from the darkness, broken souls with gaping holes, and flat expressionless faces. I gripped my weapon tighter and pushed on. There was no turning back now, I needed answers.
The soft rustling sound of their movements set my nerves on edge, they were closing in. I swallowed down my fear and pushed on towards the source. There, on the horizon, a small crooked form stood. A dry cackle like knitting needles clattering together cut through the silence making me pause. That was their cue.
I don’t understand how it happened. How can wool and cotton tear through flesh and bone with such horrific precision? They were right. We weren’t supposed to know where our odd socks went. It was better that way.
“It came for the socks first… we tried to make more, but there was something wrong. They kept… changing. Then they came for the jumpers next. They crumbled beneath our fingers, it becomes blurry after that. The next thing I remember is running, and running. It was coming for us, the world was crumbling and we had nowhere to go”
“I… I think I’m turning to dust. The breeze cuts rather than caresses my skin. Thoughts are becoming more difficult, and I’m thirsty, so very thirsty. Will you give me something to drink? Just one sip… I’m so very thirsty.”
We watched from a safe distance as it consumed everything. It took its time, drifting on the wind across the world as we knew it. Slowly, the colour bled from the landscape. The sound quietened before finally, there was nothing but the soft whispers on the edge of our hearing. Some of us vanished into the bleak, grey sea… others locked themselves away desperately trying to hide from the whispers. The rest of us simply waited. It would come for us, eventually.