Savior – A fiction story

By Corey Thibodeaux


The streets are laden with sleepwalkers. Buildings, homes and parks teem with the unconscious. They sleep with one eye open. But when they are awake, they live with both eyes shut. So how then can they ever see? They have proven they don’t want to. Society demands obscurity. These people must not be disturbed. Doing so may upset their personal status quo.

So just let there be quiet. Let there be nothing since that’s what we truly care about.

I have achieved an inner stillness, a hush that comes when separated from the cancers of our world. The sound of silence is divine. I’m in the Earth’s purest state: A dark calm with a face partially submerged in mud.

Any sound that seeps from society at this point is reason to believe that there is no reason to love or that there is no reason to hope.

But I still have one.

Listen for a moment. It’s etched in the framework of humanity: Greed, fear, hatred, sadness. Everything we were taught to overcome exists today as vehemently as ever. The sins of our fathers have been passed down for generations that are now imbedded into our genetics. No amount of education or medicine can heal us from the mistake-ridden monsters that inhabit this beautiful planet.

This is a world that needs saving. We are losing the human race. We have evolved to imperfection.

We’re the perfect example. Each one of us. We think we are capable of great feats. We think we are special and anyone who doesn’t think so is just a prick. We follow some code, some belief, some religion. And that is all that is right for this world. We preach it, but we are the furthest thing from good followers – the epitome of hypocrisy. We consume and destroy until nothing is left but a cataclysm of waste. World peace is too tall an order for the ignorance leading the cause. Because of this, everything as far as one can see will one day fall. I pray I never have to see that day, but I know it is coming.

I’m not a church-going man, but I know you can’t set the world on fire then beg to God for salvation as you burn in your own inferno of sin. Yet, that’s what we do.

That’s the problem when you don’t believe in fate. It is not some predetermined destiny by a higher power. It is the amalgamation of fault that leads us down our pathetic path.

If God created the world in his image, then explain the famines and plagues that wipe out the less fortunate. Explain the evil that corrupts our highest institutions. It isn’t that I don’t believe in God. It’s just hard to when all your prayers go unanswered.

And I do not ask for much.

You can sift through my past all you want. You won’t find a family to blame, you won’t find a lack of freedom and you won’t find a prolonged period of disdain. And sadly, you won’t find someone truly trying.

I never stole. I never killed. But I never did. I never had the initiative to engage in something beneficial for humanity. I assumed someone else would take care of all of these natural disasters. I convinced myself I was too weak for the military. I thought I should just leave the labor work to those more physically able. My emotional support and donations became saturated as the issues multiplied.

I’m done trying to help one another. I’m going straight for the whole.

This world needs a savior. And the road to salvation goes through me.

In a way, I’m glad the population exists as it does. It’s so self-involved that no one noticed the limitless potential festering inside of me. I’ve reached the point of incomprehension.

I had to escape the social constructs of my culture before I reached the breaking point. The only being you can trust on Earth is nature itself. So that’s where I needed to go to find out how I was going to save all this. Here, oil has no price. Currency, battery life and how many bars you have don’t matter.

By now the rain has washed away any trace of my whereabouts. I’m not even sure how far I fled from town or how many trees I passed while seeking for coverage. Any relevance of time eludes me. I don’t remember when I collapsed or the last time I ate. By now, I’m surviving on pure will. I won’t accept this ditch as my grave until I can make one lasting impression. I am a reflection of everything and everyone around me. My little voice will be heard as a scream. If only for just a moment, I will be the supreme being of this universe. Just think, a simple tug on the thread of humanity’s fabric could undo everything. It seems so simple.

Save your breath. You’re going to need it.

Digging deep into the energy source that is keeping me alive, I find the strength to pick myself up. I feel a divine grace keeping me from collapsing. This is meant to happen. God wants this to happen.

The rain stops and, as if the world had flipped itself, the water begins to flow towards the sky. The roots can’t restrain the trees any longer. They are as free as I am. A sudden gust envelops my body. An ethereal force budges me, urges me to continue as each step comes accompanied by destruction of biblical prowess. By the time the first town is in sight, the people have scattered. They see what’s coming, but they can’t stop it.

In a frenzy of furious winds and an onslaught of dust and water, it appeared as the Earth itself attacked the homes. Then like a mighty hurricane, one that could topple the greatest of empires, we consumed the entire town. Skyscrapers vanished. Pavement liquefied. Families dissolved.

To save everything, there had to be death.

The plague spread, beyond my power at this point. I stopped my march long ago. I was the epicenter of salvation. Entire countries were leveled to perfection. The mighty human race, wiped out in a matter of hours by one storm only the gods could summon. And like a speck of light dimming in an unspeakable darkness, I was the last to go.

And in that moment, a modicum of peace.


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