El principio del fin

El principio del fin

Sashalouise Prior · Ongoing · 102.3k Words

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Introduction

Muévete constantemente. Nunca te quedes en un lugar por más de un día.
Mantén la cabeza agachada, no te mezcles con otros supervivientes.
Permanece oculto. No dejes que te vean.
Aléjate de las ciudades.
No corra riesgos innecesarios.

El mundo terminó a mediados de abril, la civilización tal como la conocíamos nunca volvió a ser la misma, algunos dicen que las puertas del infierno se abrieron y se tragaron todo lo que encontró a su paso; y no puedo decir que estén del todo equivocados. La electricidad fue lo primero que se perdió, el primer paso de su plan para convertir a la humanidad en su esclava, y tuvieron ayuda; se les unieron grupos de hadas que aceptaron la promesa de dominar lo mundano. Nadie sabe cómo lo hicieron, pero de repente, en todo el mundo todo... se detuvo. Los coches no arrancaban, las luces no se encendían, las llanuras de combate no podían defender a los países del ataque que se avecinaba. Ni siquiera los desgastados generadores que la gente utilizaba en sus pequeñas cabañas en el bosque no funcionaban. Era como si tecnológicamente hubiera abandonado a la raza humana.

«¿Qué quieres de mí?» Tartamudeo, asustado y solo.
Sonrieron, aunque era más espeluznante que gracioso. «Lo descubrirás muy pronto, pero yo no probaría nada, nena, no te gustarán las consecuencias de desobedecernos».
«¿Por qué has elegido mantenerme con vida? »
«Normalmente matamos a todos los que encontramos, pero para ti hicimos una excepción». Uno de ellos se rió entre dientes, jugando con la punta afilada de mis orejas: «¿Quieres saber por qué? Porque eres nuestro».

Chapter 1

  1. Muévete constantemente. Nunca te quedes en un lugar por más de un día.

  2. Mantén la cabeza baja, no te mezcles con otros sobrevivientes.

  3. Permanece oculto. No dejes que te vean.

  4. Mantente alejado de las ciudades.

  5. No tomes riesgos innecesarios.

El mundo terminó a mediados de abril, la civilización tal como la conocíamos nunca volvió a ser la misma, algunos dicen que las puertas del infierno se abrieron y se tragaron todo a su paso; y no puedo decir que estén completamente equivocados. La electricidad fue lo primero en desaparecer, el primer paso en su plan para hacer de la humanidad sus esclavos, y tuvieron ayuda; aquelarres de hadas se unieron a ellos, comprando la promesa de gobernar sobre los mundanos. Nadie sabe cómo lo hicieron, pero de repente, en todo el mundo, todo simplemente... se detuvo. Los coches no arrancaban, las luces no se encendían, los aviones de combate no podían defender a los países del ataque que seguiría. Incluso los generadores viejos que la gente usaba en sus pequeñas cabañas en el bosque no funcionaban. Era como si la tecnología hubiera abandonado a la raza humana.

La gente entró en pánico, corriendo a los supermercados y robando todo lo que podían llevar, atrincherándose en sus casas y tapiando las ventanas. Las noticias se difundieron rápidamente de que esto no era un accidente, que alguien estaba atacando; pero nadie sabía quién, ni por qué.

Supongo que ese era el plan, sin televisión, teléfonos o internet, nadie sabría lo que venía hasta que fuera demasiado tarde. Pero mi padre lo sabía, él había sido parte de uno de los aquelarres que se unieron a los oscuros, uno de los pocos que se dio la vuelta y huyó antes de que las cosas se pusieran serias, aunque mi madre no fue una de ellos. Ella no tuvo tanta suerte. No recuerdo qué fue lo siguiente, si fueron los sabuesos del infierno o el virus que mató a aquellos con trastornos sanguíneos, no creo que nadie lo sepa realmente.

Algunos dicen que solo la mitad de la población ha desaparecido, pero yo sé que es mucho más que eso, no quedan muchos libres. Aunque eso es porque no hay muchas personas en absoluto. A veces los veo, sus cadáveres en descomposición llenando las carreteras entre pueblos, familias que han muerto de hambre en sus casas, incluso aquellos que no quisieron enfrentar la realidad y se suicidaron en los primeros días del fin. Pero esos no son los que me ponen la piel de gallina, ese lugar está reservado para los que solo tienen pedazos de carne en sus huesos, los que están drenados de sangre y los que tienen la piel verde y manchada por el virus. Esos son los que me hacen querer vaciar lo poco que tengo en el estómago en la carretera.

Son los que se mueven constantemente los que sobreviven, los que no buscan problemas y se dan la vuelta cuando hay señales de otras personas. Es más difícil vivir solo, pero es la mejor manera, no tienes a nadie que te ralentice, que coma la poca comida que logras rescatar, y que ponga tu vida en riesgo cuando están cansados. Tuve a mi padre una vez, hace meses, pero los sabuesos nos encontraron y él me dijo que corriera, y aunque lo lamento hasta el día de hoy, los sonidos de ellos desgarrando su carne. Me alegro de haberlo hecho.

No quería morir, no a los diecinueve, todavía tenía años por delante si jugaba bien mis cartas, si seguía las reglas y me mantenía alejado de la gente.

Soy hada como mi padre, pero su poder estaba basado en la tierra, el mío es un poco diferente, él siempre decía que tenía una mente fuerte y tenía razón. Puedo mover cosas con un solo pensamiento, levantar y lanzar objetos que pesan más que yo, escuchar los pensamientos de los humanos; incluso detener a alguien de moverse si es necesario. He tenido que usarlo algunas veces, cuando la gente ha intentado tomar los suministros que tengo, cuando sus intenciones han sido violarme o matarme.

Nunca he matado, papá no quería que me convirtiera en un monstruo como aquellos de los que huyo, pero he incapacitado a personas el tiempo suficiente para poder escapar ilesa. He congelado sus cuerpos y luego los he dejado inconscientes, o les he torcido una pierna para hacerlos más lentos. No estoy exactamente orgullosa de las cosas que he tenido que hacer, pero la supervivencia no siempre es bonita, tienes que tomar decisiones difíciles, decisiones que ni siquiera habrían cruzado tu mente en los días antes del fin. Pero las cosas cambian, y la supervivencia se está volviendo más difícil con cada día que pasa.

Es invierno ahora, el aire es amargo y helado, la nieve ha caído fuertemente en los últimos días y cubre el suelo como una manta de muerte. La nieve complica las cosas, permite que la gente rastree tus pasos, vea dónde has estado. La profundidad te hace más lento y tienes que detenerte más, hacer más fogatas para combatir el frío.

Estaba cerca de un pequeño pueblo, tal vez a medio día de caminata si las señales eran correctas y la nieve se derretía en la noche. Pero, no lo lograría hoy, mis piernas temblaban y mi espalda gritaba por alivio del pesado mochila de excursionista que llevaba.

El mundo terminó, pero aquí estoy luchando, ¿pero para qué?

¿Cuál es el punto?

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