Denizens of the Night
The rumbling of the earth and the groaning of the mountain were ominous signs of things to come. Those few that took notice left with haste, warning all those around of the impending horrors and dangers that awaited them. However, no one paid attention to them, or the nondescript figure that entered town that same day. The owns went unheeded, and the people were caught unawares as the catastrophe fell upon them.
It was deep in the night, when darkness ruled the land. Flashes of lightning drove away the darkness, only to be swallowed up by the shadows. Storm clouds had blanketed the sky like a flower bed covers a garden. Figures ran aimlessly; pandemonium had broken loose. The Mountain of Sorrow rose over all, shedding her tears of fire. Smoky snow fell to the ground; quakes split the earth. The moaning of the mountain drowned out the screams of the fallen.
Above all the din and chaos, a bell sang out. A long structure lay on a hill, its steeple a promontory for all to see. The structure was to be indestructible, protected by their god, by their faith. Many have rushed to the structure for their salvation, for hope. In their arrogance, they demanded of their god help and protection. Little did they know if would be their downfall. The mountain's fiery tears spelled doom for all. And darkness reigned over the land.
A lone figure, wrapped in shadow, walks nonchalantly down the main street. The shadows embrace him, keeping his form in darkness never to be revealed. His ever wandering gaze shifts from shadowy corner to dark window to raging fire. To his left lies a broken house, and to his right lies a family dead in the streets. He walks by both without a second glance, only to bump into another individual roaming the streets. The man apologizes and quickly moves on, but the lone figure smiles, his teeth glittering in the flashes of lightning. His face shows no signs of age or sorrow, only power and hunger. The man rushes into the alleys, followed by the lone figure who moves with haste. And darkness envelops the city.
The lightning and thunder have increased tenfold, and the shadows have grown violent. The Mountain's cries have grown stronger, louder, and have torn across the landscape. The city had been cracked open like an eggshell. Buildings lay ruined, people sprawled in the roads adn alleyways dead. Smoke and ashes fill the streets, creating a dark haze thicker than blood. The storm obscured the stars in the sky and the moon circling the earth, never allowing them to gaze upon the fallen.
The lone figure shadowed the man with the skills of a stalking tiger. His grace was like that of a cat, and his movements as fluid as water. The lone figure prepared to descend upon his victim. The man never knew someone was behind him until it was too late. His goal was to reach his safe-house, his only protection from the horrible fate that awaited him. The thunder and screams of the dying coalesced into a violent cacophony, an orchestra of death.
The Mountain's tears of fire began streaming towads the hill with a roar of defiance. And the ashes, falling from the heavens almost as if the angels themselves were crying. The thick, hazy air was toxic; breathing it alone would be a horrible end. The city had lost its soul, and for that, lost its life.
The storm had finally broken; the Mountain's tears were almost gone. The land all around had been ravaged and destroyed. The moon's light shone upon the city and through the haze created a ghostly scene. The moonlight glinted off a small, dark red pool on the ground in a dark alleyway. It shined off the lone figure's ghastly smile, his visage betraying his satisfaction. He rose, leaving the dead body he continued on with his casual gait without missing a beat, searching for his next victim.
The Mountain of Sorrow finished her crying, and the earth shuddered for the last time. The city lies in ruins, the building atop the hill lies broken, and those within are lost. Those who left before the catastrophe returned to a devastated landscape. They wept for all the people in the city, family, neighbors and friends. The moon and her starry brethren looked upon the fallen people in sorrow and the survivors with compassion. While the night, the city, the land belongs to death.
(work in progress, subject to change, is open to all criticism and helpful tips.)