The night was dark, to tell the truth, it had never been this dark before. Never in his entire 80 year long life had the darkness spread like this. There were no clouds in the sky, but there was still no moon, and the stars shone with dull grey darkness. The street he walked on was damp and cold, the coldness rose through the thick soles of his shoes and gave him goosebumps.

The night was silent, as a matter of fact, it had never been this silent before. There was not a single sound. No people walking past him, no windows being broken, no gunshots fired in the distance, no ambulance sirens, no pounding heartbeats and the sound of running feet, no screeching tires or the sound of cars speeding by. There was nothing. He could barely hear the sound of his own feet dragging against the pavement. He could not even hear the distant call of his wife Martha who had died 23 years ago in a car crash, smiling at him telling him about the new car she had bought. Like he always did, but there was nothing.

The night was empty, it truly was. In the middle of Manhattan there was not a single human being. There was not a single animal. There were no cars, no bikes, no vehicles. There was nothing but silence and darkness. He heard a whisper. It stabbed him in the back and he saw the big wound in his body, his soul was gushing out. The bright red substance lighting up the dark pavement. He put his hands over the wound, but it would not heal. He heard another whisper and looked up at the sky, the distorted moon smiled back at him. Letting out a last breath of life he plunged down into the darkness below with nothing left.

His powers drained and his life restrained. He sunk to hell and there he still remains.

 Print This Post | | Save as txt

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 17th, 2005 at 10:38 pm and is filed under Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.