Short Story: Masters Plans

As the sun slowly slumped its way down beneath the horizon, its glowing rays shone bright into the air, creating a whirl of purple and orange hues. At this time of the day, all the children of the town would be scattering home, in wait of a delicious meal or some heart-warming supper. The parents were already home, tired from their long day at work, engrossing themselves in their children’s stories of their day at school and any house chores that needed to be completed. This was the ordinary, the menial task of day-to-day to distract them from the omen, the promise.

For this omen, lay itself in a wasteland of shattered bones and degrading flesh; of forgotten families that once were a part of this town. They were all the lucky ones of the town, for the people who had passed on did not need to face the cruelty that was about to arise. They were not cursed; there was no planned torture or damnation. Everyone knew it was the night of deliverance and prophecy – so as the sun sunk beneath the horizon they too disappeared from plain sight, seeking the comfort and protection of home.

The sun was all but lost now; the glowing moon was all that remained. All the laughter and smiles had been forced quiet by the absence of a shining sun. As the moon took its rightful position in the sky, waxing and waning, shadows danced below it. The streets weren’t completely silent however. The wind was curling, causing the leaves to clamber along the cobblestone, fearing the inevitable arrival of absolute darkness. The leaves feared even what Mother Nature could not defend them from. Far above the town, the face of the large Victorian clock watched as every bit of life slowly hid itself from plain sight. The clock bathed in the moonlight – its hands twisting and contorting to reveal almost midnight, 5 to. The pointed tip of this tower aimed at the sky – symbolising human feat and engineering. The advanced human race they called themselves. Their intellectuality was only surpassed by their creator; an ominous and mysterious being that showed no face in the dark. They praised him, nevertheless and the tip of the building pointed to him as so. Tonight on this very special occasion however, it did not point to the God they so prayed to. Tonight, it pointed into darkness.

The discoloured tentacles of the beast rose from the ashes striking sharply into the air. The dark grey clouds hung only slightly above as it removed itself from the damned wasteland.

The discoloured tentacles of the beast rose from the ashes striking sharply into the air. The dark grey clouds hung only slightly above this creature as it stood in the centre of its wasteland. It did not move it did not sway. It was patient and silent, knowing full well of its master’s plans. For now, however, the black metal-clad fences that protruded from the dying grass protected everyone from the beast’s wrath. The streets were silent - a departure from the active energy of the day. All that could be heard was the trickle of water from rusted gutters. All the laughter and the smiles had been forced quiet by the absence of a shining sun. The glowing moon was all that remained. As it waxed and waned above, shadows danced below it. This slurry of demons began their work grabbing hold of whatever light remained. Its master’s plan was in effect. The face of the Large Victorian Clock towered above the town, bathing in the moonlight. Its hands twisted and contorted to reveal it was almost midnight. 5 to. The pointed tip of this tower aimed at the sky - symbolising human feat and engineering. The advanced human race they called themselves. Their intellectuality was only surpassed by their creator; an ominous and mysterious being that showed no face in the dark. They praised him nevertheless and the tip of the building pointed to him as so. Tonight, on this very special occasion however, it did not point to the God they so prayed to. Tonight, it pointed into darkness.

As the minute hand moved into position the wind began to curl. Leaves clambered along the cobblestone, fearing the inevitable arrival of absolute darkness. They feared even what Mother Nature could not defend them from. Oddly enough, the clock did not make a sound as it clicked onto the rusted 12. This fear had penetrated all. Instead it froze, seconds lost in time. The clouds moved from this signal covering what was left of the moonlight. Complete and utter darkness swallowed the town, engulfing it in its fate. The town had been warned. For they should have let the beast roam free, it would have protected them from all. Now the town was vulnerable and open for attack. The master was to avenge his minion.

Nothing could be seen at this moment in time. Sound, however, became everyone’s eyes. It was this sound that indicated his arrival. A deep rumbling vibrated across the streets, with every household fearfully closing its shutters. A rhythmic clattering filled the air pleading fear and anxiety. For now it was too late to repent and beg for forgiveness. For now, it was time to dirty the cleansing the world had received. A clanging of metal on metal joined this rumbling, with screeches and clinks. Each bang sent shivers down hidden spines and jolted their, for now, still beating hearts.

The Beast began to move, lifting its rotten body from the toxic ashes. The clouds separated and the moon shone on this monster of a minion. This purple light revealed nothing, for its heart was so dark that even in light it was nothing but black. Its master was no better - the light blocked by a whirling dark cloud. The only thing that the light could reflect off of was the shiny scythe that rose from these clouds. It was time to take revenge.

The Master moved towards house one. A woman looked out from her window only to see his arrival. She thought not once of herself and ran for her children. She knew the inevitable but her instincts prevailed. Her life was not on her mind right now. It was the lives of her children. As The Master entered the household, he could hear her whimper upstairs. It was darker inside the house than ever before. The floorboards creaked, not at the footsteps of The Master, but because as he moved through the house, each and everything he touched and approached rotted to the core. The floorboards seemed to melt into the ground and the wallpaper curled up. They burned without fire. The flowers in the living room blackened and turned into dust. Only the king of the underworld could create such fear out of love.

As he approached her room, he revealed his weapon. He walked right into the door, which had now dropped off its hinges and had several holes were eating away at its structure. The house began to shake with the foundation and the walls rotting away. He didn’t rush though. He took his time. This was what he enjoyed the most. The last few breaths of a human. The mother stood in the corner, her hands outstretched, as if that would defend her children from him. She could not see a thing as his darkness reigned though the room. He used this to his advantage and approached her from behind. Her children could not resist his force and were smothered by his surrounding cloud. She could do no better and began feeling queasy and tired. She would not give in however, unaware that her children were already engulfed by the night. He stood behind her and reached around her neck. His scythe positioned directly to the left of her head. In one swift move, he jerked his arm to the right and her body collapsed to the ground. Crimson red blood dripped from his blade as he pointed the tip to the floor. It was done. A dark blue glow suddenly threw itself through the town. It was the revenge of the Beast.

The Beast blew out flames of blue fire from its mouth, burning everyone and everything within the houses. His grotesque figure stomped slowly but powerfully through the streets. The burning was a sacrifice to his Master. He had been saved, rescued from an eternity of damnation in the human world and returned to an eternity of damnation in hell. His gift was the pain and the torture that the people of the town would have to endure. The blue fire engulfed them in a darkness; in a pain that rocketed through their body. It was so painful that it was impossible for them to scream. Only their faces showed this pain as their mouth widened and their eyes closed, their faces winced in agony. This was a burn unlike any other. The Beast continued, engorging the houses in a stream of blue heat. It bellowed in ecstasy as it watched each and every person within the town, disintegrating in torture. As it blew flames on the final house, it began to disappear, fading away in the moonlight. His master had not moved since the murder of the mother, awaiting the final moments of the plan to piece together. This was it. The dirtying of Gods World.

The only structure to remain from the destruction was the Victorian Clock Tower that stood proudly out of the ashes. The wind began to slow into a breeze as the last of the fires died out. The leaves settled in the corners of the street. The crows circled in the air eyeing for any morsel of food remaining from the flames. The clouds had all disappeared and the moon had shyed away from the sky. Amidst the devastation, a silhouette emerged. It appeared human, with limbs coloured in a pinkish white. Its body was bare, apart from the head where wisps of dark brown hair sat. It wasn't a human however. As God sent his son forth to save the human race, here walked the one to destroy it. One that emerged from the ashes and was born of agony, fear and pain, not love, kindness and compassion as a human would be. This was the beast in its human form; infiltration and damnation - its goal in this world. This was to be the final element of The Masters plan.

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