Thoughts of a Stalker

I really wasn't expecting this. I imagined a marble staircase flanked with golden columns. I imagined a thousand virgins with fruit-filled platters. All I see is darkness. Who would have thought that the highway to Heaven is paved with blackjacks and thorn bushes?

I must be on the highway to Hell. Can't be, that's where I've just come from: The Camp. The only thing I'm sure about is that I'm dead. Why? Because I'm surrounded by darkness and there's a bright light in the distance.

Besides the sound of rocks rubbing against my torso as I pull myself forward, everything is dead quiet. Then there's the smell: a foul mixture of methane, camp-fire smoke and sweaty armpits that haven't seen soap for three days.

It seems there's nowhere to go but towards the light. I see human silhouettes marching up and down around the light. I feel like a soldier whose company is about to charge an enemy. Armed with silence and camouflage, we make our advance. Armed with light and sharp eyes, the enemy stand their ground.

As I move closer to see my fellow soldiers falling to the torches of a seemingly invincible enemy. "You there", says a voice, "stand up". My enemy's burning weapon pierces my armour of darkness. My turn has come, I have fallen. So ends my first game of "stalk the lantern".

- Illustration by Ezelle van der Heever