City of Souls

Can a city possibly have a negative, sinister legacy?
London used to be a heartfelt city, until one person entered the streets of London, and turned everything to ice with the bitter chill of his soul. He clutched the lives of many, and stole their futures.
London has become the City of Souls.
Entry into the Create A Legacy competition, please listen to the song I have attached to this as you read it, it only adds to the atmosphere. I wrote this story as I listened to it. Hopefully, we will share the same images I see in my head. Word count 1489.

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2. Abandoned

With only the broken shell of a town house as shelter, I stared across the lands of London, the sky a dark and dismal grey. A storm was brewing. The cold winter breeze felt harsh against my face, strands of hair fell out of their bun and fluttered, the gold a sharp contrast to the darkness of the sky. I gripped the archway of the door, the horizon dull and lifeless. Knowing that there was nothing left, I felt defeated.

This place had been abandoned and left to die. To wither. 

Those who survived had fled the city in a hope of finding a better life elsewhere. Survival did not exist in a city where he roamed. 

He was never caught.

I found myself swaying in the wind, clutching the door frame, hoping that it would keep me from floating away, from losing my mind. But no matter where I was, the monsters would follow me; they had crept from under my bed to inside my head, and I would never be alone.

Because of one man, I faced total insanity.  I had no hope, no will, and yet, I still didn't know why I had come back here. I had no reason to. I wasn't safe here, but was I safe anywhere? Because of that man, the monsters will always be inside my head. 

There is no escape.

Yanking my ripped jacket tighter around my delicate and starved form, I yearned to see the sun dip through the black clouds, shed even a single shaft of sunlight. I prayed to see what had once been my home, the way it used to be. I’d give anything to see this place drenched in glorious colours and lights, for it to feel alive again. But this place was merely a ghost, a sliver of reality. 

Knots formed in my throat, tears stung my eyes. My aura soaked in despair. 

Years were spent to build up this city, and yet it took merely days for it to be shattered and ripped apart. It took thousands of men to build it brick by brick, tile upon tile, and yet, it took only one man to destroy all that was with his icy touch and the breath of his frozen soul.

There was no sign of life here, in the City of Souls, no hope of future prosperities. No life breathed air. Only the souls of the dead wandered this place, forever grounded, prisoners of the ruins. 

Somehow, looking at the destroyed factories, crumbling buildings and deserted streets, I felt rooted to the spot. Seeing my home in this way; broke my heart, and I couldn’t turn my back on the city that held so many memories.

A quiet voice inside my head told me I’d never leave.  

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