Thunder Raining Poison

"A whisper arrives, two thousand. Two thousand or more, did you hear it?"

The odd creature laughs with a sudden fervour, but not a moment sooner did it stop, and the silence it left was deafening.

Because beneath the dark hooded cloak, all he could see was a flash of acid green eyes, slitted, as it pulsed with power unknown to him.

Its hold was almost sensuous, like a lover's caress - if only he could've disregarded the pungent scent of rotting meat simmered in tar and day's old fish left in the sun. If only...If only it's acrid scent hadn't continued to burn his eyes, maybe then could he have noticed that death was imminent.

Death gripped him tight like none had ever before. It's grisly maws dislocating to fit his wrangled body - and it seems that in a moment of clarity. The mans pale face shook even harder now, this level of terror and despair went beyond looking death in the eyes. No, this was the face of the condemned being read their sins in the depths of hell.

"A whisper arrives, two thousand. Two thousand or more..." razor sharp teeth gleamed ominously from within the darkness..."did you hear it?"

And it's laugh rang out in the clearing of blood once more.

From beyond the massacre of mangled bodies and puddles of gore, lay a boy limping and choking on his own blood - wearing not uniforms made of cotton and wool, but skins of his triumphs during his hunts.

And this boy wonders - he wonders...why? His elders tell him that death is written in their dreamtime, that death encompasses all...but yet, why? Why did it come for them when their flames still burned bright, and their blood still flowed red in their veins...why?

"My boy, a whisper arrives, two thousand. Two thousand or more...you will hear it."

For its words are law, and his oaths are its will...the boy will hear it."

"So mote it be." And the whisper echoed in the boys ears, ad his cheeks were dampened by the visceral emotions he felt in those few words.

The boy grimaced, but the cloaked figure saw it for what it was - a smile. "Our people have gone missing...and I will hear it."

Elegantly, reluctantly, the hooded figure let the boy go, watching as the remnants of his soul left the planes of the living - for it knew what it felt to be forcefully anchored...it was an odd idea - an odd feeling to be kept alive despite already embracing the idea of death.

Grinning it sings, "A whisper arrives, two thousand. Two thousand or more..."

Without any warning, a thousand men beyond the boundaries felt their chest heave with a sense of foreboding.

Unhinged and relentless, the sounds of blood splattering, bodies squelching, and screams forcibly halting - echoed as death reigned.

"Do you hear it?"

Giggles burst forth from within, overcoming the sweet sounds of torture.

"If you didn't, you will."


A/N: This will just be a series of me finding poems that stirs my muse enough to write creatively about it... The title of the chapter is what the creative writing is based off...

Original Poem by Ali Cobby Eckermann