You swallow nervously as you gaze up at that angry sky, watching the clouds swirl, gather and churn in the skies. Flickers of light lance through the skies above, yet without any accompanying sound, without anything to tell you that it is as simple, as mundane as lightning. Nothing to tell you that this will all be fine, that these clouds are just very, very ugly storm clouds.
In a sense they are.
In a sense, the clouds above are a sign of a coming storm, yet it is not one of thunder, lightning and rain. It is unknown to you what it is, yet it strikes fear into your heart to gaze upon those swollen, low hanging clouds that swamp the skies. Fear, raw, primal fear. Your heart beats in your chest, adrenaline rushes through your veins, your gaze shifts towards the forest once more and you begin to limp, then jog towards the tree line.
Your gait is uneven, your legs protesting, your eyes wide, desperation telling you that you can catch with these people, that somehow, some way, you will find them. It doesn't matter that they were able to conceal themselves from view, that they were able to fade from sight while you watched them walk away. You will find them.
You have to find them.
You have to escape the coming storm, despite how part of you screams to stand your ground, to face that angry sky, to laugh in its face, to weather the storm. As you reach the treeline you turn back, looking up briefly at the skies once more, watching as the clouds seem to slowly fall from the heavens, engulfing the tallest mountains on the horizon, drifting down towards the hills.
Billowing, swirling clouds.
The clouds crash down on the land, washing over it like a lazy tidalwave.
Inward and towards you.
You turn back to the forest, ignoring the discomfort of branches and stones beneath your naked feet, the sensation of sharp rocks and branches stabbing into your soles, scratching at your shins. You can't afford to stop, you have to find those people. You will find those people. You will escape these clouds. Every footfall feels easier than the last as your body seems to respond favourably, endorphines and adrenaline dulling the pain, fear spurring you onward as you start to run, as you duck beneath low hanging branches and vault over fallen logs.
The forest passes by in a blur as your pace picks up, as you sprint, ducking and weaving between the trees in your way, staggering unsteadily yet never quite falling as you clip against a couple. The urge to survive, to find that offered sanctuary from the skies has you drive onward as mist creeps about your ankles, as the rushing clouds behind you steadily close in, until finally...
"Angel, this way," comes a gruff yet warm voice from behind you, a voice that has you pivot about, stagger backwards and fall in an undignified manner onto your behind as you fail to account for your momentum.
"I can't see you!" you call back in response, seeing nothing but the billowing clouds rolling in about the trees.
"Angel, follow me," comes the voice once more, this time further into the clouds with the sound of footfalls leading away from you.
"Wait!" you call out forlornly, pushing yourself to your feet before you hurry in the direction of the voice. "Don't leave me!" you whimper, barely supressing a sob, a fearful sob even as you feel disgust over this display of weakness.
You're better than this, you're stronger than this.
You know that you are, yet you cannot help it.
As you stumble towards the voice, two figures slowly emerge from the shroud of the mist. One, bears the form of the man, a form that you can see now is hunched over a slab of a material you can't place at this moment, holding it up, open.
The other figure is a woman garbed in smooth attire, similar to the what remains on your form. The dull grey material smooth, yet bearing a strange luster about it. Piercing green eyes stare at you from that figures face, while long black hair trails down her back. Eyes, that you find yourself briefly fixated upon, tearing yourself away from as you hear the mans voice once more.
"Hurry, we need to get below ground before they come," the man wheezes, sounding short of breath now as he gestures behind the slab he is holding. A slab, that you realise as you move towards it, is a hatch of sorts, covering the entrance to a tunnel.
"I... Thank you, for both of you... Not leaving me," you mumble, feeling that while appropriate, that you are ashamed to be reduced to thanking this lesser being for this.
"Both?" comes the mans response, before he sighs, glancing around cautiously. "The skies are playing tricks with your mind. We should must get below ground before our awareness is too addled."
You frown, glancing back at the woman. That woman who stands there as clear as day, staring at you intently as silvery wings unfold from her back.
"You cannot see her?" you inquire, huffing as you do so.
"I see many things, and will see much more if we do not hurry," comes the mans response, matter of factly, yet there is a hint of stress in his voice betraying that his patience is wearing thin.
Deep down, you know that you could betray this lesser being, trap him in the fog and take the safety of the tunnels for yourself. You also know that the tunnels could be a trap, that this seeming benevolence could be a ruse to lure you in. More troubling than these thoughts, is the fact that the man claims he cannot see this other standing nearby, one who you feel somehow familiar with. If he cannot see them, if you are seeing things in seeing them, what is to say after all, that you are not seeing things when you look at him?
When you look down that open hatch, what do you see?
Concrete with metal rungs, soil braced with wood, synethetic materials with a ladder or hewn rock with a rope?
Is the lighting artificial or from fire of some form?
Do you plan to betray the man or question him?
Or do you declare this madness and run off into the forest, not knowing if you can trust your senses any longer?
((Bear with me here, as i'm trying to fix things/please everyone/not butcher this further.
Apart from the 'smite the sky!' people. The character will woman up once they have a sense of self again.))
Author
Topic: Descent (Read 7487 times)