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Fun Stuff

A short story by Enrico Orsini ©2020

This short story was a precursor to the release of my music video, Man of the Centuries, which premiered on Saturday 11/28/20. Hope you enjoy it! 

God bless!  

               

                world-wide plague caused the apocalypse. Some were killed by the virus, some died in the war, when nation blamed nation for the outbreak. Where it originated, no one was certain. But finger-pointing and accusations, fueled bitter hatred among the super-power regimes. Intercontinental missiles devastated many of the major cities of the world. But thankfully, the war was short-lived.

        Though there were massive casualties and destruction, the virus decimated armies, navies, all the military might of the world, long before the full nuclear arsenal would have been unleashed. If this virus sprung from nature, then nature got its revenge on a species that was so careless and so destructive to the planet!

        A remnant of mankind, immune to the plague, survived the carnage. But many are mere ghosts of their former selves, shell-shocked and existing in constant fear of the brutal gangs & bandits who roam the earth, kidnapping, enslaving, or murdering. These barbarians have lost all their humanity and are more animal than human now.

        Amid the charred rubble of what was once a suburban neighborhood, a dark, hooded figure crouches. Century Man has returned to his home. But what he finds, is uninhabitable. War-weary and traumatized, he rummages for pictures of loved ones, and what's left of his beloved violin. Then he leaves for good, to search for safe shelter far away from the violence that is all around him.

             

                  

               eeping a low profile, Century Man spends the next months, dodging the slave traders, competing with wild dog packs for food, and slowly making his way to the remote wilderness. Weak from hunger and lack of sleep, his fate looks grim. But without knowing what lies ahead, or where he will find sustenance, he trudges on, into the deep woods.

        As the sun descends closer to the horizon, he can push ahead no further, and collapses to the ground. As he lifts the canteen to his lips, he spies a strange outline, silhouetted by the fading sunlight. He jumps to his feet and musters enough energy to satisfy his curiosity. The uphill climb is rigorous, but he pushes ever closer ‘til the forest gives up its secret. As if from a dream, amidst the vast woodland that surrounds it, there appears the visage of a palatial estate, rising among the trees like a giant, hiding from the world! “It seems,” he says, looking skyward, “You haven’t abandoned me completely,” as he heads toward the structure. He rests the night.

       In the morning, he finds provisions in the way of canned goods and an untended garden! So, in the peaceful silence of this empty domicile, his strength is renewed.  For the first time since the apocalypse began, Century Man starts to relax & settle in. Within the walls of this sanctuary, he finds the implements needed to thrive: tools for building, securing, chopping wood and trapping food. He finds time to rebuild his violin, and sets about making for himself, a new home.

          Life is peaceful, and once again he feels God’s presence. But the quiet is at times, unbearable. The loneliness takes its toll; and the urge to seek some remnant of civilization grows stronger each day. So, he begins to prepare for a long journey to seek others who desire to rebuild the world. After hiding his tools and fiddle, he heads out once again, into the wilderness.

           

           

               ays become weeks, and then months. But only decay surrounds him, and an eerie silence haunts him. What were once thriving small towns, are slowly being reclaimed by the earth. Not a living being does he encounter; only vestiges of the past, decomposed corpses, and ghosts of his fallen comrades, who never leave his mind. His thoughts now take him back to the fighting; a surreal image, a “theater of the absurd,” as soldiers engage in vicious hand-to-hand combat, amidst the cotton candy machines and thrill rides of a seaside amusement park! Bloodied bodies lay everywhere, along with soldiers collapsing to the ground, gasping for breath as the virus finishes what the battle started. One single phrase, uttered by a comrade rings in his mind: “The vultures are eating well.”

        There may be thriving communities somewhere in the world. But this excursion has uncovered nothing. Discouraged, he can go no further, and sets out to return to the serene habitat that saved him.

        Rather than retrace his steps south, Century Man heads east from his current location, in a last-ditch effort to find others who have retained their humanity. But eventually, what he finds is anything but! Within about twelve miles north of his beloved sanctuary, he hears, carried on the autumn winds, the faint sound of human voices! His heart begins to race. He moves quickly with anticipation; and finally, dropping his gear, breaks into a full run across the mountain trail he’s traversing. The voices are louder now, and he heads to an overhang, to see what awaits him below.

       His heart sinks immediately, as he spies a large slave trader encampment, from the ridge up above. Before he can safely distance himself, he’s grabbed, and a struggle ensues! As he wrestles with his assailant, a gun goes off, just missing him, and the attacker slips and falls to his death! Now the camp is alerted, and a group of barbarians set out to hunt him!

         

 

                ripped by fear, Century Man’s thoughts are swirling! How will he evade his pursuers, and how will he keep them from discovering his sanctuary? Exhausted, he can’t think, and there’s no time! Adrenaline takes over and he runs, leaving his pack and rifle behind, just runs, with a gut instinct to escape! He must put some distance between them and his castle home. Dodging tree branches and gunshots, through rough terrain, he will not stop, not until he gets back to that place of safety, though it may be short-lived.

          Silence once again. He doesn't know when the gunfire stopped. In a trance-like state, his single focus was getting back to the place where he found refuge. Miraculously, he managed to lose the hunters. But he knows from experience that they don’t give up. They will eventually arrive at his doorstep, that is, if others haven’t already found it. Century Man will return to his home this day or the next. But he must approach with caution!

          The long, fruitless journey has left him feeling empty. Now without hope of companionship, the prospect of living in isolation holds no appeal. He’s exhausted, and has no fight left in him. His only desire now is to play his violin one last time, before accepting death, joining his departed family, and meeting his Lord!

                 

 Now continue the story in my music video:

        https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PetYaiXu0qo

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