The SmackDown Anthology 2023

Qualifier - It isn't a prairie

Inspired by the concept of flat earth.

———

They're catching up.

I don't see them through the foliage, but I can feel it. Every so often a twig snaps behind me and there's no one there when I turn to look.

I can't let them catch me. A lifetime living a lie has been enough. I won't die knowing what I know now.

Sure, conspiracy theories have existed. But so have the crazies. Since children, we've been taught one thing. From Ancient Greek philosophers to its scientific proving in the sixteenth century, it's always been the same.

Until three months ago.

Three months ago, when social media began the trend of digging a tunnel through Earth.

Obviously, most people scoffed at the idea. Who wouldn't? The fiery magma waiting just below the surface is enough to put anyone off, not to mention the weeks of digging involved. It was stupidity, a fool's errand.

A pair of teenagers dug through to the other side in two weeks.

No one believed them at first. Not until the press was involved, and more and more people tried to dig through and succeeded. Including me.

That was two weeks ago. It wasn't long after that, that The Hunt began.

When The Diggers went missing one by one—killed in an accident, lost at sea, died in their sleep—I should've known. I should've seen the signs. Innocent enough deaths, seemingly random.

It wasn't until after that I realized. After they broke into my house, forcing me to go on the run. After their relentless hunt for me this past week. After running through pastures and prairies with zero coverage.

A task force, equipped to protect the world's best kept secret—whatever the cost may be.

I can hear them now. Their feet crashing in sync with mine, almost inaudible over the quiet rustling of the trees.

And I don't know how much longer I can go like this.

A bullet whizzes past me.

I gasp and force my bare feet to go faster, crashing past ferns and shrubs. In the distance, the trees open up to a clearing.

I desperately hope it isn't a prairie.

Another bullet misses me, grazing my ear this time.

I hiss, but my pace doesn't slow. Not when I'm inches away from my goal.

Bit of a 'good news, bad news' situation here:

Good news—it isn't a prairie.

Bad news—it's the end.

This is it.

An incredulous laugh escapes despite me, as I stare into the vast abyss. Hundreds and hundreds of stars hover above, blinking in the twilight.

I've made it.

I've made it to the edge of the world.

Pebbles skitter over the brink as I dare to take a peek. The canopy of stars extends further, down, down, down...

Leaves crunch and twigs snap. I turn just in time to see them burst forth from the shadows. "End of the line," one of them sneers.

I peek back over the edge. What's the worst that could happen if I were to jump? I freeze to death?

Hey, three months ago, Earth was supposed to be round. For all I know, I might start walking down the side of this cliff.

I glance at them, with their guns cocked and aimed.

At any rate, it's a better way to go than being shot to death.

I gulp and take a step back. Then another. And another.

One of them realizes what I'm about to do. "Wait!"

I jump.