The World
The world was not always this way.
From what I'm told and from what I can piece together, things weren't always so dark and bleak. The skies weren't as darkened; the waters weren't so murky. The earth itself is now scorched and ravaged. It is as if it has been bled dry of its essence.
This small, crowded village is suffocating when one considers there is so much more out there. I am not the only one who knows this; the others can sense it but unlike myself, they are afraid.
There is either something out there that we cannot handle, something that could spiral dangerously out of our control. But there could also be something that we need, and could use.
If the others were sensible they would venture out and look for something useful. Our resources are few, and depleting rapidly. The days progress and all we can do is pound at rocks. We do not look around ourselves but dig below ourselves. Each shovel-full of earth is that much closer to the mass grave we are hurling ourselves into with this ignorance.
As long as I have been alive, that is how it has been. We have dug, and we have mined. And then, long ago, they developed the foraging missions. When I heard this idea, I grew excited. I knew it was genius. Three elected members of the village would go out in search of life, supplies or anything useful to the community. They would be allotted a specific amount of time and had to return promptly, with or without materials, or be left behind forever. If the missionaries weren't able to make it back within the allotted time period, the village would pack up and move to another arbitrarily-selected area of the vast mines.
This system was created as a failsafe, in case there was life outside that wound up being hostile. It is a paranoid approach, albeit necessary. This all began before my birth, and continued for a while, but something unfortunate happened. The details are as muddled and washed over; the missions were suspended. It became forbidden to leave the community.
Regardless of the terms, the idea to go out and explore has potential. Even now, years after the fact, I know this.
The system of relocating to another area in case of disaster is still incorporated into the community, although at this point it is no more than a useless failsafe. The inherent danger of being sought after by unknown elements is no longer there, seeing as how we no longer leave.
From what I have heard throughout my life the outer world is morbid and lifeless. Decay and disease run rampant and the atmosphere is unkempt. The basic understanding is that the world is ravaged beyond repair, and what has done this is ultimately unknown.
What I want to know is this: if the regular belief is that the world was once different, and some deadly unknown element changed it, what has led us to these beliefs? How do we know that the world was any different at all? Where does this knowledge come from, and how can I acquire it? The people need to know. We need to grow.
For now we plough on in this constant feeling of impermanence. We are ready to relocate, but we are not ready to understand that cause of relocation. All I know is I cannot be a part of it.
Imps
I saw one of the creatures today when we were out foraging. While horrible and fascinating, I could not examine it for very long – the other “men” were just too unwilling. Their concern for food is what brings us out here; what is out here is what brings me. While the others bury their heads in the ground about the possibility of other creatures, my eyes are wide open. These people are stubborn in their ways and unwilling to change or bend. They ignore the existence of the outside world.
I am stubborn in a different way – the kind that forces me to do exactly what they do not want me to do. I know there is so much more to the world; each and every day we find new evidence to prove it. Listening to the tales of the elders alone is enough to make a sane man hope for more. Of course they say they are only legends, but even legends start with truth.
The others and I were on the outskirts of the field that I’ve charted (but have yet to name). The day was far enough away, but the others worried that time was running out, or rather grew increasingly uncomfortable at the newness of the situation. As we were searching, one of my companions suddenly paused because he heard a noise. I could hardly contain my interest to press on, but gaining control over myself, I held my tongue. If I speak too much around these men, I will be left out of future foraging parties. It is this difficult silence that allows my work to continue. My work must continue.
Crouched low in the tall scratching grasses, we came across what I believe is one of my most exciting discoveries to date. There wandered a grotesque little creature: short but menacing, with a strange off-colored skin to it. It hands were long and fleshly, with the sharpest talons I have ever seen. On its head were what must have been two horns, but one seems to have broken off, leaving only a haggard stump. Its eyes were the most interesting; they were lifeless and milky. They had a dullness to them, unlike the eyes of a regular being. Yet they seemed to be fully aware and somehow intelligent. The creature was a monster, with an in-concrete likeness to man that is difficult to put into words.
The others were frozen with fear. This was their worst nightmare come to fruition. This unwanted evidence of more existing outside of our village than The Elders will ever admit. But even this seemed unimportant when the monster was heading right towards us. As my companions shook with fear, eyes darting madly, mouths gasping for breath, it became apparent to me that we were in no real danger. The little devil wasn’t nearly as frightening as it at first appeared; its elongated, pointed face was turned up to the winds and its nose was constantly sniffing, with its lidless eyes in constant search of something – or someone. That “someone” certainly was not any one of us. The creature lacked the general confidence or rage that would show it was a threat to us. Instead it seemed only curious and even uneasy. It seemed lost, and was probably searching for its pack.
I knew right away that this thing couldn’t have possibly been the only of its kind. It could never have survived in the wilds of the open world alone.
The creature bolted when it finally saw us, yelping in an odd tongue. When it opened its mouth, the rows of razor-sharp teeth surprised me. Regardless of its size this creature could indeed prove to be quite deadly. My fellow villagers were as relieved to be rid of the things presence, as I was disappointed at its departure.
I prayed that the elders would take this as a sign and allow us to broaden our search of the outside. But even with this hope I knew that this would not happen. Just as I expected, upon our return, my companions acted as though they hadn’t seen anything. My account alone to The Elders was certainly not going to convince them. They refused to believe my tale.
I know in my heart that this creature was merely one of many, and there is so much more out there.
I cannot be certain of a great many things, but I know what I saw.
I also know that my work is more necessary than ever, if I am the only one who is going to pursue it.
Initial Glimpse of Highway
Even as I write these words I can hardly believe it. The whole thing still feels like a dream. My pen is shaky, my mind is racing; my heart is sure.
Today I caught a glimpse of it.
It was what has been hinted at. It was a long, outstretched road. Not a soul walked along it, and it seemed not a soul knew about it for it was cracked and broken, covered in dust and debris. It was rundown and forgotten by all, save myself.
In the dead of night, covering my tracks and holding my breath, I feared the sight of the Highway as much as I longed for it.
My heart beat faster. My feet tugged at my body to keep walking along that road – the road which until that moment seemed to exist only in my mind, and in the words long spoken and gone of those now sleeping in the earth.
Still, I could not walk along the Highway. I should not have seen it in the first place. I should not have ventured out alone at night. I should not be writing about it now. Such actions are forbidden; my discovery had to be made in the cloak of the night, in the company of the moon alone. The others would sooner leave me out on our foraging parties than to ever come to explore the Highway with me. Yet a mad kind of determination has possessed me, one that I cannot explain more than I have. And so I ventured out alone; never did I think I would find this so soon. I imagined finding creatures at night, clues of the outside world, and recording my findings. I had planned only to discover those things which I had no time to truly examine when burdened with the others.
I have been doing this for some time, as made evident by these entries. For those other nights, I found only what I thought I would find. But now I have made the biggest discovery of them all. It leads outside of this suffocating village away from the delusional notions that we are alone in our existence.
The Highway must be walked along and we must find where it goes, and even what it may have along it.
While I now have solid proof of its existence it will take some time and scheming to lure the others to see it. Slowly I will have to try to coax the others closer to the Highway on our missions. Slowly but surely they will one by one see this concrete evidence.
And one by one their ignorance will disappear, to be replaced with the reason that has so often excited and burdened me, threatened and isolated me.