Rust

The consequence of hatred.

My first memories were forged in a fire. A blinding flash, the stench of metal melting, the final 'clang' of a hammer finishing a job, and the sizzling of water cooling molten steel. Cheers erupted as the forging of their precious symbol of respect was finally finished. Waves of trust radiated through the air, and I bore witness to the first peace pact between enemies for hundreds of years. My purpose became clear to me as I was placed upon a hook and the words 'The Lock of Promise is finished!' resounded through the masses. These people were the cliffs and I was the bridge. It would remain so forever.


Faces changed in a blur, and souls began changing as well. No longer did people cross the bridge of the gaping chasm of hatred, but instead hurled insults across it. Every day festered more spirit, and the respect I bore witness to slowly withered away. It became clear to me as visits to my site became less and less frequent, and those armed to the teeth, that no longer did my testimony have an effect on these people, that the only reason clouds of dust stirred up by marching feet and screeching battle cries did not echo through the sky was because of the binding pact that the oldest faces had created.


As I witnessed this decline, something changed. At first I hadn't noticed, for why should I? I had been forged in the embers of an unbreakable bond, designed to last forever. I was designed to last forever. So when disease spread discreetly through the metal that formed me, just a few patches here and there, I had no knowledge of it. The disease didn't stay insignificant. It crept over pristine metal and slowly but surely corroded my very essence. The people couldn't ignore it any longer.


I sensed the uneasiness of both enemies as I was eaten away, and a few of those who were said to have power over faint shadows of me, common locks that were found throughout the land, were sent to inspect my surface. I knew by the sweat that grew on their clammy palms and shaky eyes as they worked that they were changing, far more rapidly than their people had. Once finished, I heard their thin voices bordering on hysteria profess how a great evil force thrummed against me, how they could feel darkness seeping into their very beings. Frantic whispers swept through the government, and a pilferage of 'experts' came to my post and all reported back with that same panicking voice: that the force behind my borders was not one they knew of, but it was great and terrible and if released onto the world it would bring ruin and destruction.


People came from all places of the world, of various backgrounds and species, to try and quell the disease that lingered, and the agony that encased me grew ever stronger with each remedy, the autoimmune disease growing worse and worse. 'Rust' they called it, but that seemingly innocent name did no justice to its reality. No remedies they thrust at me, rust repellants, false keys, suturing, steel overlays, did anything, because the force that drove both species to work together, that wasn't respect, that was fear. The respect that I had witnessed formed my essence, and as that respect had withered away, so too did the rust grow and I fell into decline. I saw that fear of mortality kept up their desperate search, not love or respect for one another. I was in constant pain, until every moment was unbearable and agony. This kept on and on and on and on until, finally, the inevitable happened.


I succumbed to the rust.


***


It had been a day like any other, a crowd of thousands gathered around the sacred Lock of Promise that their ancestors had forged centuries ago, with people pushing and shoving to cure their oncoming demise. Amid the yelling and incoherent noise, a resounding CLANG was heard, pure and final and absolutely horrible. It silenced the masses, and all eyes turned towards the source of that awful sound. The very reason they were there. Slowly, as if travelling through molasses, the Lock dropped from its handle, the metal finally giving way after corroding for almost three years. Thousands of eyes watched that doomed object make its descent, willing it silently to return to its perch. Suddenly, the lock smashed upon the ground, scattering into a thousand tiny pieces. For a split second, not a sound was heard, as if the whole world had paused. And then, out of the lock, a swirling storm of darkness poured forth and into the sky, eating the sun whole. The people were helpless. They couldn't stop it. The darkness had come.