Neogenesis (Day 54)

Even though he was nearing the bottom, he attempted to maintain as slow a pace as possible. His numerous aches and pains were reminder enough of the price of carelessness. He positioned himself awkwardly as he edged his way down the slope, careful not to jostle his wounded lower back. His progress was steady, but even when the ground was well with his sight, he did not quicken his pace.Only a few moments later, he reached the bottom without incident and struggled to a standing position on solid ground for the first time in what seemed like years. The fog had begun to dissipate, but he still couldn't see terribly far away.

The trees were sparse here, but still effective in obscuring what might be the most effective path. Judging by the sloshing noise his footsteps were making, there was some standing water but no streams in sight. The air was still, but noticeably chilly on his bare flesh. He entertained the possibility of going back to find his cloak, but the idea was ludicrous. Scaling the valley wall would be a monumental task in itself, and retracing his steps even more difficult considering most of his journey had been made in utter darkness.

He realized suddenly that all he had to look forward to after making his way across this valley was scaling the other side. He grunted in distaste; he'd really gotten in over his head. He was going to die here out in the middle of the wilderness and no one would ever find him. It was no less than he deserved, of course, but he still felt a pang of despair at the thought. He was a young man. He'd not accomplished anything worthwhile in his life. How anticlimactic that he would do something so awful and run away from it. That would be his legacy. Running away from his mistake and dying alone.

Worse yet, the man was growing hungrier by the moment. It was a dark and powerful hunger that was all too familiar. He didn't need food--at least, not yet. No, he was hungry for something darker, more sinister. He felt that cold, sickly chill underneath his flesh that heralded the coming of his blood boiling over. With all now lost to him, he wondered if there was any real harm in giving in to that urge, releasing the dark power with him. Ignoring its call had so far brought him nothing but pain and despair. Maybe it was time to move past that. Maybe it was time to give in and let that sickly feeling suffuse him and dictate his path. What else could he do? Lay down in the damp grass and wait for death to take him? No, that wasn't going to happen.

He kept walking, his mind a maelstrom of conflicting thoughts. He quickened his pace. These were exactly the kind of thoughts that he'd feared would invade his conscience. As soon as he had stopped moving they had returned with more fervor than ever. The part of him that was still in control wanted nothing more than to banish those thoughts forever, to move past them and make up for what they had made him do. You only did what you had dreamed of doing for years. Do not pretend that you had no control. He didn't stop. The truth was excruciating, but it changed nothing. He would not hurt those close to him again.