The giant bell atop the tower sent out a deep, reverberating sound that spread out across the twilit landscape. The deep tone surged down the slopes of the ancient tower billowing forth through the rotting, crumbling stone buildings that stretched out from the tower for miles. The silence followed like water, closing in on the dead landscape. Another toll. The rhythm continued like it had for millennia. Undisturbed. The bell’s toll was like a heartbeat in a rotting corpse. The landscape was dead quiet except for the bells bellow. Somehow, ages beyond counting since the last inhabitants set foot on this earth, no other life had settled in. No animal set foot within the humongous city ruins. Not even the foolishness of men had led to ventures into the bells domain.
Good job Anders! Fantastic description and personification.
ReplyDelete*claps*
ReplyDeletepart 2 soon? Its so... cold...
Sorry if I didn't reply. Thank you for the praise. I don't think I will continue.
Deleteit's not impossible, but it is a bit of a feeling I wanted to conjure.
If you want, You are free to write onwards :)
Haha, my own part two, done in my free time.
ReplyDeleteButterflies stood in the middle of the ancient valley. The great toll of the bell folded around her. The sound rolled up the other side of the valley and vanished. Butterflies turned back to the side she was facing. A frigid blast of wind roared through the desolate landscape, pulling fiercely at her coat ends, making them flap. She slowly trudged up the steep slope, pulling her coat tight around her. She reached the top, slowly but surely, and surveyed what had become of the peaceful village.
The snow had covered most of it, yes. But even time could not erase History: the fire, coined as Abuelita. The fire that had razed this village, killing almost 200 people. She saw distinctive shapes beneath the snow, as if, by magic, the cold had preserved the dead bodies. And, as if by magic, the belltower wasn't touched. Its bottom was licked with dark brown burn marks, flecks of dust and soot darkening its exterior, but still intact. It was a miracle: the belltower was right smack in the centre of the village.
Butterflies looked up at the top, her eyes trailing on the bell. It was swaying, gently, slowly. To complete her training as an assassin, she would have to stay out here for four days and four nights, and on the fifth dawn, her Cleric would come to get her from this desolate place. She was to hold a peaceful conversation with the apparent beast who stayed at the top of the tower. She scoffed at the idea, her breath not showing up in the icy surroundings. A monster? She thought to herself. I’m already one. What’s there to fear? In any case, she had to keep her mind on task. She had limited time to do what she had to do. She looked at the bell one more time, then started down the slope towards the village, slipping and sliding on the icy surface.
From the top of the tower, curled up next to the bell, a golden-red dragon released its long held breath. It watched Butterflies approach the tower through red slits of eyes. Smoke came from its nostrils, and it shifted its head with barely audible scraping of scales.
hmm anders in answer to your comment on my blog (simply because I can't visit the page, stupid thing is blocked) this is the kind of things I do in my free time. Maybe I'll be continuing it. Maybe not. But in any case, I'm writing a chapter story on a new blog.
ReplyDeletewww.perfectocs.blogspot.com
The stupid link doesn't coincide with the stupid title. MEH.