The Light Consumes What’s Left

And so, it ends. The people are dead. The world is destroyed. Through no fault of their own, everything will be obliterated, leaving nothing behind.

Tick.

I sit here in this abandoned office, looking at the decimated city through a giant hole in the wall. The souls of those I carry around have cleared my vision for my final moments, wiping away the all-encompassing green. The resulting midnight blue dotted with white casts down onto the ruins below, lighting the deterioration with an ephemeral glow. Sure, the streets are littered with bodies and stained blood, and yes, most of the buildings have turned into rubble. Still, I believe that adds to the charm, at least in its finale.

It has been an interesting life, this go around. Usually, I am able to explore much more of the world due to science or magic or whatever it is that governs the laws of the planet. However, this time, I have wandered around three cities, watching them collapse one after another. I can’t say I expected to stick around for so long. The people are definitely to blame.

Tick.

First there’s Jack, the baby I took care of for a month or so. He left this world way too early, killed at the hands of someone I can’t even bother remembering. However, his death was quick and painless, allowing him to rest with the rest of his family.

Then there’s Aster, the school girl that will forever remain in my memories. At first, she lost everything dear to her, but she slowly bounced back, growing out of that naive immaturity. I never thought she would offer up her life, but because of that, I finally got to see her for who she was, rather than just another person among the dead. Now, she would live on as a delusion, haunting me so that I would never forget her.

Finally, there’s Robert, that strangely determined businessman. Our time together was all too short, but I was still thankful. He provided us a place to stay during the winter, and he helped Andrea move on. I did regret taking him from his home, only to be on death’s door when we got to the next city. However, he never blamed me for it, nor did he complain. He simply smiled until he too perished.

Tick.

My eyes continue to count down towards the inevitable conclusion. My body has long ceased to move, probably from the same thing that affected the others. Even if the cause is different, I always end up like this. It’s as if the universe is telling me to stay put and take it all in. Though, honestly, it’s likely I won’t even be able to see how I die this time. The green dot will engulf this world in an instant before anyone notices, at least, that’s my guess. Light-based apocalypses tend to only take an instant before devouring everything.

Tick.

And so, dear viewer, watching from your safe haven far away, I have a question I want you to answer.

Well two.

Actually, three.

You have heard them many times before, but you never give me a response. Sure, you may have some circumstances that prevent you from doing so, but it’s nice if, just once, I can at least have some indication.

Tick.

What am I?

My wooden arms and legs creak as they move, glistening with an unreal sheen. The gears making up my neurons click with every action I make. In some worlds, I look like a puppet, and in others, I closely resemble a person. And yet in every one, the clocks in my golden eyes tick down towards the world’s destruction – the left showing the months and days, the right displaying the hours, minutes, and seconds. A paradoxical clockwork doll: one where I cannot exist but do, only appearing when there is no other path left to take.

Tick.

Why am I here?

This was the 533rd world I have witnessed, and the 533rd world to be obliterated. In the first few, I do my best to help as many people as I can. My inanimate constitution keeps me alive far longer than a person, allowing me to rescue others and provide supplies. The next couple worlds, I plead with the strongest and wisest to save everyone. While some are amicable and others only care for themselves, the majority simply want to experiment on me. That’s fine as long as they hold up their end of the deal. There are even a few where I take over, forcing every person to work towards my (their) survival. It doesn’t matter how many I kill or how they feel. If at least one person survives, it will have been worth it.

And yet, no matter what I do, I can’t stop the evitable. Horrific expressions are plastered on those I have saved. Blood pours from the mad scientists from an experiment gone wrong. The citizens stage a coup, only to die a moment later. It only takes a moment for me to realize my role as an observer, powerless to do anything about the role I was forced into.

Tick.

Why do I have to live through this?

Why am I shown such chaos and anarchy? Why can I only exist past the point of annihilation, unable to prevent the cause? The stench of death no longer affects me. The etched, expressionless face has become my facade. People keep making the same choices, unaware of the history of worlds long extinct. It’s as though they never learn, not that there’s anything to learn when facing the unstoppable scythe racing towards your throat.

Tick.

It seems as though I’m out of time once again. Although I can’t see it, I know it’s coming. I just have a sense for these things, especially those related to my death.

Tick.

Where will I end up next? Will it be a world full of people like me – animate dolls able to see the world’s end? Or maybe one where everyone is immortal, unable to die even after their home disappears. Whatever it is, my fate will probably be the same.

Tick.

Still, I hold out a tiny bit of hope. I never understand why, in these last moments, I believe I can survive in the next life. Maybe it is the only way I can stay sane. Or maybe it is something else. Who knows?

Tick.

Or maybe, as the green light in the sky consumes the world, it’s because of the single thought left in my mind.

It’s–

Tock.