The Last One- Flash Fiction

They came in broad daylight. The rumbling of their huge machines resonated through the quiet morning air. We could see them charging for us, but there was nothing we could do. We were utterly defenseless. I did not quite understand what was happening at first. The men were intimidating, but there was no direct indication that they meant us any harm. Maybe they were just passing through, interrupting our serene morning for only a short time.

That was not the case at all.

I watched as some of the men got out of their big yellow metal monsters, carrying large weapons. Loud grinding sounds all of a sudden came from the weapons as if they were alive. Fear struck me, as I saw one man heading towards my brother, weapon out.

“NO!” I shouted, but to no avail.

Screams from my brother filled the air reverberating every part of me, but the men seemed as though they could not hear them.

To my horror, the other men started in on the rest of my family. I stood and watched. There was nothing I could do. I was a statue among this massacre. My brothers and sisters fell one by one. The breaking of their bodies pierced my core. Once on the ground, the men started chopping at their limbs, dismembering them. My family lay, torn and tattered, every last one.

I didn’t want to see anymore, didn’t want to hear anymore. Their screams still lingered in my soul.

My home.

My family.

Gone.

I looked down and saw that I was their next target.

I braced myself. I no longer wanted to live. I couldn’t bare the heavy weight of the loss of all those I loved. I welcomed what was coming. The largest man came slowly towards me, yelling something to his pack. They backed away from me as though they wanted to be as far from me as possible. The weapon roared to life, the blade bit into my flesh, ripping and chipping away. I wailed and moaned, mourning the loss of my kin. The man’s face, with his hungry eyes full of greed and lust, was the last image I saw. I fell with a loud crack thump.

I, the last tree in the forest, welcomed the sweet silence of death.

 

Word count: 384
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