sickle_stories (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sickle_stories) wrote2007-04-22 11:49 pm
sickle_stories) wrote2007-04-22 11:49 pm
Entry tags:
Servants of the Dark: Excerpt "Fear the Stars"
Note: WIP like woah. Poor, dear little abandoned story...
She had never seen the stars before. "Horizon" for them was the farthest depths of a tunnel. The ends of the earth were travelled through in their world, and often quite literally.
She grew terrified of the things above her head, those tiny lights, and the vstness of it all, missing the low soft darkness of the tunnel roofs. Whimpering, she crouched down and held her head protectively between her knees. She kept still, eyes screwed shut, while the night sounds creaked about her.
That's where they found her, a few hours later. One eventually came closer and touched her.
She looked up, trying to be defiant, powerful, in the face of that emptyness above her head and the strange breezes that fluttered past.
Instead, she screamed.
Those lights, they had moved, and they were brighter, sharper, than they had been.
When they finally managed to carry her inside, not bothering or able to light their lamps, closing the door against the night air and sky, the myriad above-ground smells and sounds and finally putting her back inside, with her feet upon moist earth and not prickly grass, she finally stopped screaming.
For a little while.
She had never seen the stars before. "Horizon" for them was the farthest depths of a tunnel. The ends of the earth were travelled through in their world, and often quite literally.
She grew terrified of the things above her head, those tiny lights, and the vstness of it all, missing the low soft darkness of the tunnel roofs. Whimpering, she crouched down and held her head protectively between her knees. She kept still, eyes screwed shut, while the night sounds creaked about her.
That's where they found her, a few hours later. One eventually came closer and touched her.
She looked up, trying to be defiant, powerful, in the face of that emptyness above her head and the strange breezes that fluttered past.
Instead, she screamed.
Those lights, they had moved, and they were brighter, sharper, than they had been.
When they finally managed to carry her inside, not bothering or able to light their lamps, closing the door against the night air and sky, the myriad above-ground smells and sounds and finally putting her back inside, with her feet upon moist earth and not prickly grass, she finally stopped screaming.
For a little while.