Page One of Five
There was no visible light other than what was provided by the stars. A slight breeze shifted through the brush, causing the remainder of the living plants to dance in their devotion to the earth. The silence was torn with a seemingly deafening sound, though in such silence even the slightest crack or creak would wreak havoc on the ears. The sound of footsteps could be heard in the distance, and even farther off, a few muffled cries. Cutting right through the distant noises, an unbearably loud series of reports was fired. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The reverberations of the thundering echoed eerily through the hills, causing the night to come alive.
The footsteps were now definite, with a certainty to them. A rhythmic tone developed in the sound as the crunching and brushing grew louder. A person was definitely walking through the field. The camouflage clad man was becoming tired, so he opted to rest under one of the few trees the area contained. He set down his rifle and dug into his pocket for some cigarettes and a lighter, when he felt a sharp blast of frigid air. He continued to light up and smoke, though the wind was starting to become unbearable. He dropped the smoking butt, and walked over to shield himself behind the tree. He was growing cold, and could no longer relax. He knew he had to be on his way. He reached around the wide trunk for his gun, but found nothing. The man stepped around the tree to look, but it was much to dark for him to see. The only visible object was the faintly glowing cigarette he had dropped. Odd, he thought. It should have been put out in the wind. As he was about to smother it with his foot, the illumination from the ground grew to an unnatural intensity. He shielded his eyes, stumbling in bewilderment. The cold had now subsided; he was now becoming warm. Too warm, he thought. His head throbbed, feeling as if his brain was swelling. The pain was extraordinary. He kept his eyes tightly closed as he reached for his head with his arms. The pulsing and searing pain was now growing exponentially with every passing second. The man could no longer think due to his brain trauma. He was becoming disoriented, and began violently thrashing on the ground.
Breaking through the confusion was a different side to this torturous awareness. He could now hear whispers. He was frightened beyond anything he had ever seen or felt. The man dropped to his knees, writhing in agony, scratching at his head for the evil song to stop. The repetitious voices were now emerging into a screaming chorus, all the while repeating their message. they kept saying “Thine fire quenched, they soul extinguished”. The voices causing the excruciating pain were now echoing, sporadically reverberating backwards and in loops of comprehensibility and unintelligibility.
Both the voices and the pain abruptly ceased. The air was still, and the surroundings were eerily tranquil. After a few moments, however, a roar could be heard in the distance. the man opened his eyes cautiously, only to see the ebon night. It was a dramatic change from the pain and Hell that he had been encompassed in just a few moments earlier. the noise continued to grow from a low thundering. Although the night was dark, the stars did provide some illumination. the man looked around him and saw the familiar surroundings. He looked down at the cold, lifeless cigarette. Up until now, he had not heard the odd noise approaching him. It was completely unrecognizable, though it had grown into unimaginable proportions. the pain quickly returned as his ears began to bleed from the barrage of sound waves. The ground trembled and