Archive for November, 2010

He opened his eyes.

His tendons were pulled tight between aching bone and withered muscle. He found the glaring mirror of death mirrored in his own green eyes. Fear pushed against his stiffened body, throwing him from the sight of it and bringing him to ground.

His lungs felt foreign, and he couldn’t move them. His gaze returned to the glassy glare of death lying in front of him. A dead thing was lying where he used to be, staring at him without the shimmer of life. What was man now lay still and stayed, a mere shell of former beauty, lost and empty. Skin clung to the bone, the muscle no more than thin strands. He took the shell’s hand for a glimmer of former identity. He tried to hold it tight, but the hand fell brittle, breaking into dust. The dust fell through his fingers as the final form of flesh swirled in the winds and settled in his nostrils. He stilled, and he stayed, unmoving in any way.

Don’t stay alone. Find others, a companion or a friend, to save me, protect me, and keep me strong. Once the thought entered him, a force found him and pushed him down on the remains. The remaining shell burst into a cloud of dust and ash. As he pulled himself up from the pile his hands clenched around the man that poured between his fingers. He couldn’t remember a name. The man was just a nameless pile of ash in forgetful winds.

It pushed him down again, and he didn’t have the power to hold it back. Surrounded by the swirling dust of the dead, he was raised from his submission, and with outstretched arms, he was held suspended. The remains encircled him, flowing with the stream of the winds. He felt his body deteriorate. The burning atrophy turned his muscle to ash, blood to vapor, and bone to stone. He just needed to sleep, to return to the world of dreams. He would be safe there, but dreams were not unbounded. With time, they too fade. If he could just…


It was then that the dark took hold and held him so cold.


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He choked on it.

His voice was held tight by the dearth. He felt like he was still sleeping in a foreign body unwilling to move. He was just lying there, facing up. Is this up. There’s nothing here at all. Everything moved around him, even without him. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it did. It always did. When he pushed himself up, light touched him brief and sudden, a flash out of the dark, broken and fragmented, but he quickly lost it when he stumbled and fell back down. He wanted to slip back into the dark, feel its cold grip and let it pull him in. He longed for it. Something else shared in his longing and erupted in a deafening roar, denying him a voice that calls for peace and slumber. Even though fear gripped him hard, trying to hold him tight to ground, he was still able to leap up and throw himself forward to find the source of the monstrous resonance. There, he found light, the sun, reflecting from his green eyes and bathing his face in warmth with its gentle touch. No. This isn’t the sun. This is fire, death and fire.

He fell back from the sight of columns of fire engulfing the towers of his world, fallen and broken. Even the ground beneath them was not left unscarred by the touch, split into two, left gaping and divided. Ground shook as black rock melted, exploded, and sprayed, and large chasms were left hollow and dark in the wake of the inferno. He fell down with the pain of the…


He felt it shake, about to give beneath him. He tried to push against it. As he tried to force himself up, his arms shook, and again he quickly fell with no sympathy from the hard…


He pushed harder against it. Struggling against his weak limbs, he finally brought himself up until his eyes found the inferno. He watched as the pillars of fire engulfed, overcame, and swallowed everything, leaving him nothing.

His body went numb, and, as his limbs fell limp, there was no sound, no taste or stench, just calm and fire. The flames danced in a ballet of billowing movement, flowing around each other, complementing in both meter and rhythm.


As the light shattered and worlds imploded, his body was held tight by flame. Its sensual touch was the only thing he felt as the worlds went dark.

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Kill a dark thing

And become

Keep it


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With the disturbing of the waters, he moved between face and ghost. He pushed beneath the waters and found nothing but what he already knew to be there. The water spread, he submerged. He couldn’t breathe down here and knew that he never would again. He would try to say that he was pulled beneath the waters, told that his throat was dry and needed to drink. He would try to say that a man like himself told him that what was here would fill him and quench him. But to move beneath the water was his choice, and it was his choice when to breathe.

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