•1 | Thread the needle •
The inflamed soul
Heaven or hell - what will it be?
It's what I'm asking myself as I look at gleeful and furious flames that slowly swallow every piece of structure from the place I call home. The town of Elandor.
Maybe the sight of it is a sign that it's going to be hell - it surely resembles it.
My legs have given up under the heavy planks, remains of a once-strong wall that crushed them.
My skin is burning, its layers split. No one is in sight. Not my mother, not my brother and none of the other residents.
I cover my left eye with a trembling hand, feeling that it's covered in blood. It is not listening to me, not registering any light.
Smoke is infiltrating my lungs.
Explosions are numbing my ears.
The ground is pressing against my ribcage in an uncomfortable way.
War. It must be a broken out war.
Even if I was convinced that this country - Iskhera - is one of the most peaceful ones on the continent.
I have no clue who or what has set those infernal flames upon this village, who has attacked us in such a heartless way, yet I know that even from...
...hell...
I'll make sure to make them pay somehow.
[...]
...hell?
[...]
...No! - It's going to be heaven!
My mind tells me it's heaven when my chin gets lifted up carefully and I look into a face of an angel.
An angel of death who must be here to take me to heaven.
Though this angel wears interesting clothes; no ethereal-looking layers of satin on his skin and no wide wings that would block the sight of the flames.
It rather seems to be a uniform, as if he's a high-ranking soldier. It looks formal: Mostly black, a necktie and a long leather coat on top of it, many badges decorating it. A white button up shirt is beneath, hidden by a neat black vest. His blurry face is framed by raven black strands, matching the color of mine and yet it seems to be longer than my own curls.
Light blue irises hide behind thin, sleek glasses as he uses his gloved hand to inspect my face.
"I've found a survivor!" The angel shouts into a direction I can't place.
A survivor? I thought he's taking me to heaven...?My eyes flutter as I look into his face and my breathing feels shallow.
"Can you hear me?" I hear him ask me, though his voice sounds like it's coming through a tunnel as my disorientation and confusion grows.
"Are you an angel?" I ask, my words slurring as my mind feels more and more dazed.
My question doesn't receive an answer though as I hear the dull sounds of more boots approaching and the heavy weight of the planks gets lifted off my legs and back. Afterwards, the angel picks my limp body up and even though every touch makes my skin burn even more, I feel too weak to do anything about it.
With half-lidded eyes I look around at the other men and women who have approached and ask myself if they're angels as well.
And I'm soon convinced they aren't - their faces didn't look like his.
With a last glance up at the soldier who hurries through the flames, I lose my consciousness.
•updates come on mondays, wednesdays and fridays. <3
