My candle flickers lonely in the dark, like my faith. The wavering light casts leering shadows on the rock walls, cavorting imps conjured to accompany my rough passage below the earth.
I am cast out from the world that was. Wars, hatred, politicians, thieves and whores. Paradise, compared to what came next: demons, descending from the heavens, driving us down to this new hell.
I may be the last free human alive, deserted by God and man alike. I haven’t seen another in weeks, and of him, heathen as he was, I have barely a few strips of meat left.
Author bio: John Xero is a flickering spark wandering the dark caverns of his mind, studying the shadows cast and capturing them in ink.
Listen for echoes: @xeroverse | Explore the terrain: xeroverse.com
Fallen is part of 101 Fiction issue 9.