I woke up under a blood red sky. Light tried to break through the dense cloud cover. It was impossible to tell day from night. I didn’t remember where I was or for that matter, who I was. An image flashed through my head of me walking hand in hand with a stranger. Then… oddly shaped hills and a longing kiss.

My hand was burned. I got up and started walking. It was on frozen snow; it appeared I was somewhere on the edge of the world. Cold wind gushed in my face whilst cackling and a terrible type of crying could be heard which made the hairs on my neck stand up.

The snow made crisp sounds as I walked towards what I thought was north. The cackling got louder and suddenly I came eye to eye with a group of enormous penguins with huge sharp beaks.

One of the penguins came forward and studied me with a degree of arrogance. He welcomed me into what he called the only group of survivors on the planet. Apparently due to cooling down of the climate the entire planet was covered with ice and since their bodies were well-equipped to deal with harsh climates they had survived. Therefore they had to feed off each other. In the distance I could see a small group fighting and hacking away with their beaks. It was bloodcurdling to watch. The air was electric with anxiety and anger.

I was not up to scratch to being fed on so the chief penguin gave me directions to the north even though he mentioned it would not be any better there. After an hour of ploughing through deep snow I passed a pool surrounded by high walls of ice. The colour of the water was red: blood. The chief penguin had told me that all water left further north would have a red colour; the blood of all the creatures that vanished with the strange geological changes of the previous times. It was eerie.

Chewing on bits of dried penguin, I walked through gigantic ice valleys. Once the sea, these valleys were now used by happy looking creatures that were playing rugby on immaculate flat areas. As the snow was crisp it was funny to watch how suddenly whole legs disappeared in the white mass. There was laughter; it raised my spirits.

The snow disappeared for a while and I walked on black soil instead. Somewhere on the way I saw a battered sign with the name Deception Island . The sea inside the horseshoe-shaped island was less red and it dawned on me that the penguins had not spoken the complete truth.

The black soil soon gave way to ice once more. There were more rasping and cackling sounds in the far distance. On getting closer I noticed a small colony of breeding penguins. They were a different breed and were notably smaller. One older member came forward and sighed. She told me this was the last group on the planet of this particular breed and they were trying to lay as many eggs as possible to secure a new generation. It seemed there were many problems realising this project as so far every egg had only blood inside. Desperately they used this for food as they thought it preferable to killing each other, an idea too appalling to contemplate to tackle their ever-increasing hunger.

The leader showed me the way north via a former island called South Georgia . After a week’s trek through incredible scenery and eating frozen penguin’s blood I reached this famous island.

George, an immaculately dressed British officer, received me and explained the history of the island including the illustrious Shackleton. The island’s speciality, baked reindeer’s eyes was served with vodka. I gave George an account of what I had seen so far in the south and he was aghast. He hadn’t heard of such a story. According to him the continents recently had got together through seismic movements. First the water level had risen, destroying many countries and civilizations in doing so. Afterwards most of the water had completely disappeared except at the poles. Ocean beds were now visible showing eroded, incredible landscapes. He concluded the story telling me the new name of the planet, Zavtrastan.

I had missed all this in a romantic escape, a dream?

After a few days in the snug little residence where the eyes of stuffed penguins kept following me everywhere I thought it was time to move north again.

I was walking for weeks carrying good provisions. Now and again strange inscriptions appeared in what was once the ocean’s floor. The climate got warmer as well. There were still small groups of penguins around. The colour of the ocean floor kept changing from red to black wherever the area was volcanic. Now and then the walk involved climbing over massive heights which used to be islands. Some of these had striking views from the top. A sparkle of hope still gleamed inside me.

Often I kept walking at night-time as I was desperate to get into some sort of civilization. One evening during a perfect orange sunset I saw a peculiarly shaped white building on one of the islands. Chanting could be heard inside. It sounded like Buddhist chanting even though this area used to be the Atlantic Ocean . I saw old men with sad eyes standing hand in hand. I was desperate to speak to them but they looked at me with indifference.

My way across the ocean’s floor became more difficult now, impeded by strange towering cactus trees. Several bright green dragons were running around. They spoke a perfectly comprehensible language. They told me that they had noticed new vegetation growing that was able to adapt itself to the new harsh and dry climate. I was given a piece of cactus to chew on.

More and more water appeared. Some of it was an optical illusion or maybe my hallucination. After another month of walking I came to a region with many lakes. The water was clear. There were no more traces of blood. The track through this area involved a lot of climbing. The area got cooler; there was even some fine mist. For the first time in weeks I felt happy again. I was thinking about the start of the journey and my burned hand. Why had it burned? What had exactly happened?

After more rambling up and down volcanoes I came to quite a spectacular lake with dead tree stumps around it. I noticed a small group of creatures coming towards me. When they got closer I recognized them to be Tourists! They told me the name of the lake was Lake of Sorrow . It got its name after all the flora and fauna had died around it. My supplies were very meagre but the Tourists did not share their food. At night I managed to catch some fish but it had a green fluorescent colour so I threw it back. I then hungrily ambushed the Tourist camp and stole some of their food and a digital compass that on closer inspection did not seem to work.

In the early morning I got on with my journey. Dead trees were everywhere. There was no sign of any live vegetation, but on the other hand I had not come across anymore penguins either. This provoked a sense of relief as I had not liked and even feared these penguins.

After weeks of walking amongst dead shrubs a voice suddenly startled me. It turned out to be a red-footed booby and at first impression it seemed to be a very wise animal. When it started its speech there seemed to be a resemblance with a certain world leader of previous times. The booby went on and on. Penguins are bad; they want the world for themselves. The recent environmental problems are all their fault. A war should be initiated against the penguins.

On conclusion of his political speech the booby begged me to go to the nearby church of the Spirito Santo for prayers.

I arrived at the church at night time. It was full moon and the church was closed. I had decided to visit the church to look for human presence and not for praying against the penguins. At daybreak a man that looked liked a Hindu priest opened the door. Inside the church were statues of Ganesh, Shiva and catholic crucifixes. Puzzled, I heard the booby starting mass. All of a sudden creatures appeared from everywhere. Apart from the Hindu priest and myself there was only one other human present. He had blazing eyes and whispered to me to leave straightaway: to go north. There remained some hope.

He accompanied me to a dry grassy area where a red path started. He told me to always follow it and took my hand.

Then I woke up under a blood red sky. Light tried to break through the dense cloud cover. It was impossible to tell day from night. I didn’t remember where I was or for that matter, who I was.