2.4 Creative writing

It is winter. Murderous weather strikes a lifeless and cold landscape, chilling the land to the bone. Looming statues twist through thick fog groaning in the harsh wind. Malicious whispers creep through cracks of nearby cliffs. Upon a broad hill, a farmer’s hut sits peacefully, staying hidden from the chaos kept secret from monsters lurking through the murky forests. Rain softy caresses the hut washing away dark mud from its dimensions. Down below a ferocious roar from the river deafens the sweet song from the birds above the forest. Devastating winds whip through surrounding clouds harassing the landscape below. Minuscule houses leave patterns across a vast field, clinging to their roots protecting families from the terrible weather.                

Listen. As tidal waves of thick black water suffocates circumambient rocks, swallowing their every feature. Listen as screams of ghouls and demons echo across lonely valleys harmonizing with a hymn of suffocating hatred, impelling blows of lightning across thunderous clouds, illuminating the gore spread through deserted towns. Below, nearby trees rapidly twitch while shrinking down in fear, ignoring the bloodcurdling cries ringing in every direction deafening the entire landscape. Intense crashes of close waterfalls clean the plagued rivers brawling with the evil beneath the surface.      

It is too late. Forgiveness is futile. Darkness swallows the doomed landscape, sucking the very life out of its soul. Yet across the hills, brave gladiators fight back, defending the remainder of life from the deceiving darkness, shielding the concluding drops of happiness that once frolicked through the fields, once breathing life into every plant and animal. Happiness now lays to rest beneath the sharp stabs of angry lighting. Dark roars of thunder along with silent whispers of evil. Mud growls, thrashing its way through the pores of the soil cursing malicious magma upon the world. Burning, luscious fields of grass turning into charred coal. Droplets of blood sprinkle through the valley developing crimson red stains across the land. Beneath, demons are scratching their way to the surface sacrificing themselves into the raging battle between light and darkness.                       

Remember. A time before. A time before the darkness, a time where love caressed the land, flowing through the magnificent rivers, dancing past boundless smiling forests. Breathing life into moist morning grass as children are playing in the golden cornfields. Remember when screams were replaced with laughter. When birds sang beautifully in the morning sun. When sun rays warmed ecstatic rocks and hills in a motherlike touch. When peace was loud wthin the townships and stars shined bright in the night sky. Before evil striped the valleys from its purity, before happiness was stolen by the firm clutch of malicious hatred.                       

And soon you realize that the blood on your hands can never be washed away. Your once beautiful mind, plagued by murderous thoughts. You beg for forgiveness, but forgiveness is futile. The once beautiful and peaceful landscape became infested by darkness. The once bright sun is now a husk in the sky. Tears stream down your face as the bitter city overshadows your pitiful existence. Lanky buildings shamefully stare down into the street below. The once beautiful and cheerful woman, now a bleak and empty carcass. Enslaved to the chilling concrete. Sirens sound in the distance as you watch over her dead body. Succumbing to the inevitable darkness. That haunts your broken mind.