A high-pitched, pain-stricken scream. Like a hawk. That was the sound that echoed through the gloomy sky that evening. The furious clouds banged their drums and distributed fireworks in preparation of the godly tantrum to come, animals of the forest safely tucked away in their little homes. Everything was so quiet until the hawk. A large bird of sorts, you saw it, falling from the sky. Except that it soon errupted into light, like flames, like a meteor. Like a shooting star that was strayed by attraction through gravity in its passage from the east to the west.
The figure of a boy was dropped like a pin down from the gates of heaven, body spinning and turning uncontrollably in every direction as wings the color of the Sun flapped furiously, tiny baby feathers only having grown in the week before, the flyer too inexperienced to break fall from such a speed. Tears watered the boy's green eyes as his tiny life flashed before his eyes in shades of blue, black, grey, white, red. Small hands grasped the cold air desperately for some sort of safety, moving about as if the air was a stage and the boy was trying to grab onto those strings, to catch ahold of the ladder before he crashed like glass against the rocks at the end of a cliff. This went on for hours, days, months, years, air turning to rock by the child's mouth so it was painful to swallow down, tears filling the little eyes as they squinted to see.
But then it went green.
The dark tint of evergreen flashed before the child's eyes. He blinked away tears, swallowing down rock again, except it wasn't rock. And it wasn't air, not the way he was used to. It was soft, like mist, like felt. Like water.
"....?"
The small child sat up, having to stop halfway, holding his breath as his wings were separated from the muddy earth, pounding in pain the moment the weight of his back was removed. A sound emmitted from the cavity between lips shaped like a jelly bean. The little boy was wearing beige shorts again, like the clothes of a soldier. His white shirt was covered in black dust...and something else. Something red. And something brown, something that covered the ground as far as the boy ground see.
Ping.
Something cold as metal hit the boy's nose, small and weightless. Confused, the boy looked around. He was surrounded by strange colors. Black and grey he understood, but also brown. And green, fresh, clean green. The boy wandered where the space had gone. Just now he'd been falling down from the sky. Above, drums pounded, ghosts whistled tunes of the dead as the sky was lit in bolts of lightning. The child jolted, expression filling with fear as he pulled legs close.
BOOM
again
BOOM
He started to cry, covering his ears. There was the sound of bombs making contact with the sky, but that sound was coming from above. The boy didn't feel the impact, his surroundings were completely unaffected.
Green eyes widened, fear-striken, horrified. The little firefly looked up.
The boy was beneath the sky.
YOU ARE READING
A Compilation of Fantasy Concepts
FantasyA high-pitched, pain-stricken scream. Like a hawk. That was the sound that echoed through the gloomy sky that evening. The furious clouds banged their drums and distributed fireworks in preparation of the godly tantrum to come, animals of the forest...
