Fallen | Teen Ink


February 27, 2014
By HighChronicler BRONZE, West Des Moines, Iowa
HighChronicler BRONZE, West Des Moines, Iowa
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

Despair clenched me tighter as I writhed in my bonds, as I struggled to get out of the typhoon of death, chaos, and desolation. I began to run, my legs stumbling beneath me. I heard a noise and three hooded horsemen started coming after me. As I ran I noticed that the forest that formerly was my home was now home to a massive battle, a small army surrounded on all fronts. I wanted to help them; but the horsemen were so close to me now.

The trees went by in a blur, the clash of swords rang from the distance; everything seeming to slow down as I sent all my energy into each of my legs heading towards the edge of the forest. Their horses breathed on my neck; as I ran my cloak flapped almost as if it were a flag. I breathed slowly, to let the air reach my legs as they pounded footprints into the nearly silent chaos I was trying so desperately to escape. In what felt like hours I breached the line of trees marking the edge of the forest. I realized too late where I was, as I ran right off the edge of the cliff; falling.

This was okay because the people and horses that were chasing me also fell. The horse neighed wildly, but the hooded figures remained calm as they matched my descent. I reached beneath my waving cloak to unsheathe my blade. I slowed my descent but spreading my arms. The hooded figures reached me and I slashed out at the first one, slicing the hand off. I grabbed hold of him, stood on his belly and brought my knees to my chest; the remaining two figures holding their distance. I pushed off; sending the handless man down and myself up.

I landed on the second guy’s shoulder and the third guy immediately struck out at me with his own blade. I kicked the blade away and sent him tumbling into the side of the cliff. I pushed off again, this time intending to flip over enough to kick the last guy in the stomach. Just as I pushed off he grabbed my ankle and swung me down, so that I was looking up at him. I kicked him, and he let go. I slashed out with the blade, and he dodged. He grabbed me and brought me near, taking the blade from my hand; he stabbed with my own blade.

I didn't understand what had happened until the blade was ripped out of my belly, spilling my guts into the air. Blood spewed forth from the wounds that the hooded figure made with the blade I knew so well; the blade that would never fail. I stretched forth my free hand letting the wind circle around me, wrapping my cloak around me. Time slowed as fell; even the blood and the rain droplets sat frozen in air as I reached up removing the mask of my would-be killer.

Time resumed, and as the realization slammed into me, so did my own blood and guts. There staring at me with a snarl of hatred and rage was my own face. Just as his hands were covered with my blood so were mine – I slammed into the ground and the last thing I saw before my eyes closed was a flash of light.

The author's comments:
I simply felt the urge to put my fingers to my trusty keyboard and begin writing, so I did. I wanted to try something new, something I usually didn't write; this was the result. I wanted this piece to simulate a terrible, truly horrible dream.

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