"Bedtime story" without title
Mar 11, 2015 8:47:54 GMT -5
Post by Leovwin on Mar 11, 2015 8:47:54 GMT -5
This is a story which isn't set in out site's universe, neither time nor fandom, but as in the info thread a fictionpress account is mentioned, I thought I could as well put this up here. Otherwise feel free to take it down again.
It's a story simply written down in one and the only editing done is erasing a few typos. Maybe you'll like it anyway. I'm open for constructive criticism.
It was a peaceful scene. The sun had just broken through the clouds and was now warming the pale stones of the circular space between the little huts. The cots’ roofs were covered with straw and many a wall was invisible behind high grass and evergreens. In one of the windows of such a little house a woman was sitting, her flaming red hair moving lazily in the light breeze, her slanted eyes closed and body relaxed, welcoming the warmth of the returning sun.
In front of another hut there sat a slim man in a rocking chair, whistling a merry tune while sewing a patch of cloth on a pair of pants, his beige coloured shirt catching the slight breeze as well.
A child with golden locks, curled to a point where they bounced on the little girl’s head, ran over the patio on bare feet, splashing through puddles the rain had left behind. My eyes followed her as I stood leaning against a stature in the middle of the space. Such pure freedom was something to be valued and so I did, wandering deep among my own thoughts until a high pitched scream jerked me violently back into reality.
The golden curls had gotten caught in a bush with thorns as long as needles and red streaks were sullying the child’s innocent face as blood ran down her cheeks in droplets like tears. The scream had been the only one emitted from her sweet mouth before she had frozen in fear from the sudden pain.
My legs carried me over to her in mere moments. Kneeling next to her I took her soft, small hand in my calloused ones, comforting her, before I braved the thorns myself. They could not scrape my skin as deep as the child’s, hardened as they were from relentless use and practice, but they drank my blood as well, always thirsting for more. Withstanding the needles boring into my hands I brought them away from the child’s face, pain beyond the physical making my heart ache for her.
But she came free of the thorns and soon started to sob, drying her bloody tears against my vest while I held her. My eyes though were captured by something else, not the angelic, innocent creature in my arms. They were drawn to the line of bushes and could not spot a single bird among them, striving for the plump little purple berries between the thorns. In fact, my ears could not detect movement either, as if nature were holding its breath. No sound, no movement came to me from any thing which crawled, slithered or fluttered. Instead earth itself answered the ghostly silence I had not been the only one to notice. The child sensed it too, its sobs subsided. And so everyone else held their breaths when nature did. Until it groaned in pain.
It rumbled and shook in anguish deeper than mankind could ever feel. Like before the sky darkened, the world closing its eyes at the sight of what it had become and darkness befell the land. The child in my arms started shaking and I, too, could not help but shiver at the insignificance cast upon every living creature in that moment when the earth started moving. Rocks broke and houses crumbled under the raw, untamed force. The ground split open, regardless to what stood above it, creatures of all kinds finding their death within the abyss, only few having time for a last scream on this world before falling into their doom.
But whoever deemed themselves safe from those gaping, hungry mouths the earth tore open would sure fall victim to it yet.
Sulfuric clouds of foul gas rose from the depth and crept over the ground like a thousand snakes, ready to kill at the slightest contact, biting, strangling, leaving its victim unsure if the salvation of death would be a quick one.
I crouched there, holding the child in my embrace, a desperate attempt to protect it from the evil which was creeping up on us, unstoppable even by the gods themselves. All prayers had been unheard and I was petrified in the sight of death. Never had I been so close to it, smelled it, tasted it, felt it crawl over the small hairs on my arms. Oh how wrong I was, looking at the menacing clouds surrounding me and the child.
Last words appeared in my mind, hope for salvation and forgiveness, hope for an afterlife. I wanted my last act on this cruel world to be a good one, to redeem myself from all the evil I had committed. I wanted to comfort the child and distract her from what was coming.
But when I looked into those big, blue eyes, what I had formerly thought to be innocence now looked back at me like a mirror to the cruelty the world was inflicting on us. From the inside out those blue eyes turned red and stared at me, into my soul, ready to rip it out and tear it apart with the teeth the thinning lips could no longer conceal. Yellowish fangs grinned up at me in a horrible mask of what the child had been. Golden locks lay on the ground next to a torn dress, replaced by green skin. Claws were holding on to my arms and kept me in place along with the fear which held me captive.
“Forgive me,” I croaked in a last, desperate attempt to save my life. The monster’s mouth opened as in astonishment. It was a cruel sight after the innocence of the child it had made itself seem. The mouth opened wider than any human one had any right to open. I could see every single tooth and down its throat, unable to look away. I did not know I was looking at my grave before it swallowed me whole.
It's a story simply written down in one and the only editing done is erasing a few typos. Maybe you'll like it anyway. I'm open for constructive criticism.
It was a peaceful scene. The sun had just broken through the clouds and was now warming the pale stones of the circular space between the little huts. The cots’ roofs were covered with straw and many a wall was invisible behind high grass and evergreens. In one of the windows of such a little house a woman was sitting, her flaming red hair moving lazily in the light breeze, her slanted eyes closed and body relaxed, welcoming the warmth of the returning sun.
In front of another hut there sat a slim man in a rocking chair, whistling a merry tune while sewing a patch of cloth on a pair of pants, his beige coloured shirt catching the slight breeze as well.
A child with golden locks, curled to a point where they bounced on the little girl’s head, ran over the patio on bare feet, splashing through puddles the rain had left behind. My eyes followed her as I stood leaning against a stature in the middle of the space. Such pure freedom was something to be valued and so I did, wandering deep among my own thoughts until a high pitched scream jerked me violently back into reality.
The golden curls had gotten caught in a bush with thorns as long as needles and red streaks were sullying the child’s innocent face as blood ran down her cheeks in droplets like tears. The scream had been the only one emitted from her sweet mouth before she had frozen in fear from the sudden pain.
My legs carried me over to her in mere moments. Kneeling next to her I took her soft, small hand in my calloused ones, comforting her, before I braved the thorns myself. They could not scrape my skin as deep as the child’s, hardened as they were from relentless use and practice, but they drank my blood as well, always thirsting for more. Withstanding the needles boring into my hands I brought them away from the child’s face, pain beyond the physical making my heart ache for her.
But she came free of the thorns and soon started to sob, drying her bloody tears against my vest while I held her. My eyes though were captured by something else, not the angelic, innocent creature in my arms. They were drawn to the line of bushes and could not spot a single bird among them, striving for the plump little purple berries between the thorns. In fact, my ears could not detect movement either, as if nature were holding its breath. No sound, no movement came to me from any thing which crawled, slithered or fluttered. Instead earth itself answered the ghostly silence I had not been the only one to notice. The child sensed it too, its sobs subsided. And so everyone else held their breaths when nature did. Until it groaned in pain.
It rumbled and shook in anguish deeper than mankind could ever feel. Like before the sky darkened, the world closing its eyes at the sight of what it had become and darkness befell the land. The child in my arms started shaking and I, too, could not help but shiver at the insignificance cast upon every living creature in that moment when the earth started moving. Rocks broke and houses crumbled under the raw, untamed force. The ground split open, regardless to what stood above it, creatures of all kinds finding their death within the abyss, only few having time for a last scream on this world before falling into their doom.
But whoever deemed themselves safe from those gaping, hungry mouths the earth tore open would sure fall victim to it yet.
Sulfuric clouds of foul gas rose from the depth and crept over the ground like a thousand snakes, ready to kill at the slightest contact, biting, strangling, leaving its victim unsure if the salvation of death would be a quick one.
I crouched there, holding the child in my embrace, a desperate attempt to protect it from the evil which was creeping up on us, unstoppable even by the gods themselves. All prayers had been unheard and I was petrified in the sight of death. Never had I been so close to it, smelled it, tasted it, felt it crawl over the small hairs on my arms. Oh how wrong I was, looking at the menacing clouds surrounding me and the child.
Last words appeared in my mind, hope for salvation and forgiveness, hope for an afterlife. I wanted my last act on this cruel world to be a good one, to redeem myself from all the evil I had committed. I wanted to comfort the child and distract her from what was coming.
But when I looked into those big, blue eyes, what I had formerly thought to be innocence now looked back at me like a mirror to the cruelty the world was inflicting on us. From the inside out those blue eyes turned red and stared at me, into my soul, ready to rip it out and tear it apart with the teeth the thinning lips could no longer conceal. Yellowish fangs grinned up at me in a horrible mask of what the child had been. Golden locks lay on the ground next to a torn dress, replaced by green skin. Claws were holding on to my arms and kept me in place along with the fear which held me captive.
“Forgive me,” I croaked in a last, desperate attempt to save my life. The monster’s mouth opened as in astonishment. It was a cruel sight after the innocence of the child it had made itself seem. The mouth opened wider than any human one had any right to open. I could see every single tooth and down its throat, unable to look away. I did not know I was looking at my grave before it swallowed me whole.