Storm of Horrors

Storm of Horros

The silence is so thick you can almost feel it. I knew the time of the year is coming when I and everyone I know will perish. It is something I've known for a while. And I'm content with it. I've been feeling, the life, the feelings, the color slowly draining away. The once new and colourful life that I lived in has turned into a dangerously menacing red, as if someone decided that it was enough of beauty and the time for carnage had come. The dead bodies of our neighbors I've known are lying, looking as lifeless as I feel. The trees I've known to be living incarnations of life and joy are standing as stiff and as contradictory to their former selves as possible. The nations of leaves, all dead. My tree has to be one of the stronger ones since I've had the pleasure of seeing other trees slowly lose life.
A thunder, as loud as a bomb pierces the silence and the fog of my thoughts. So the storm has finally come. I've known it for a while, I've known that I'm dying and I knew that I will either die of cold and fall to the ground with others that fell or I'll get picked up by the wind and thrown to the harshness of the world. As the clouds start pouring out buckets of water I realise that it will probably be the latter. Shortly after the wind picks up and I can feel it pulling on my tree, my friends and me. Trying to pull as many of us to the harsh world. I feel my fingers giving way, I feel them slowly starting to lose grip to the tree, my only source of life left. But even though I know I'll die if I let go, I don't feel like I have the will to hold on, it doesn't matter if I die now or a bit later. So I let go.
And immediately the wind picks me up and I can feel my body being thrown around, pushed and pulled at the same time. The storm is in a full rage mode now. The rain is as thick as the air, the massive lightning strikes illuminate the world every few moments and the ear splitting thunder never seems to stop. I slowly take all this in and start to close my eyes, because what's the point in staying, no one will know of my existence now, so what's the point?
As I start to give up to the sweet peacefulness I'm thrown into life again as my body is pumped with an adrenaline rush as I see what lies before me. A mass of water coming both from the sky and the ground mixed together in a terrific sight of chaos. Before my eyes were floating steel giants carrying various much needed materials. I felt so small in between them, the noise was of shrieking tortured beings begging to be freed from the chains containing them. I wondered how did these massive ships stayed afloat, how did something so terrifying was so useful for the humans, how should I, a small oak leaf feel in between these gigantic gruesomely shrieking, begging to destroy themselves and anyone around them steel ships who as big as they were, were nothing in comparison to the deep and cold dead mist of the ocean. So deep that if you fell in you would never come out, you would never see the sunlight again, never feel the warmth of the day, never feel the freshness of air in your lungs, never get to the surface to escape this light and life sucking cold demon.
Petrified by the sight I could only watch as the deadly men-eating wave demons drew closer to me threatening to shred me in small painful pieces. Suddenly I was picked up again by another yet stronger gust of wind and I felt my heart lift as I realised I was flying towards the city and away from the water.
The city air was thick with rain, mud and a scent of dangerous power. Every building seemed threatening, every bridge looked like it could collapse on you any second, every skyscraper looked like a massive hammer for wiping out mankind, every factory looked like a furnace for bodies, every street looked like it could fold itself in half crushing the life out of anyone on it. And the people seemed aware of the danger their home was putting them in. They seemed to be aware that they were nothing compared to the massive soul crushing machines of their own creation. They seemed to be aware that every second they were in danger of getting shredded to pieces or of getting crushed by their own buildings or poisoned by their own contaminated air. Yet despite all that they still stayed. Perhaps they were scared that the city would kill them immediately if they did something against it or simply they were to stubborn to admit their own mistakes and face the horrific torture machines they built.
Breathing heavily I realised with a relief that I was once again being saved by the wind and I felt my body lift from the ground once again. This time it was with joy that I met what faced me, I was heading back to the forest, back home. Only when I did arrive home, it wasn't there anymore. In the place where a mighty oak tree stood, where thousands of my friends lived and died, stood a smoking tree stump, and near it lay the rest of the once mighty tree. Now it was a smoking reminiscence of a great kingdom. For lighting had indeed struck my tree with all my friends and my already dead friends. All of them burned to the crisp. I am finally truly alone in this world, alone and empty un this huge cruel horrifying world. As I lay there watching the depressing sight of my once home I realised that I was finally out of strength and with the last look at the cruel world around me I finally let go and fell into the peaceful abiss.

An old idea of mine but newly inspired by "Pulse Demon" by Merzbow