My library of short stories

ShortStory9

[The Seven Colored Moons]

Under twilight’s fragile fall, the moons stirred from their slumber—red, blue, violet, green, and all hues beyond. Their avatars danced among the skeletal rooftops and jagged spires of New York, cold and indifferent, watching over the ruins they had created.

Shadows retreated into twisted corners, dissolving into the unending maze of alleys. Flashing lights of ancient billboards flickered weakly, trying to cut through the gloom but only highlighting the emptiness below. The streets lay silent, save for the distant hum of wind through broken glass and the echoes of a world no longer living.

A flock of birds dove through the smoky skies, scavenging. Crows plucked gems from shattered windows of forgotten shops, while pigeons sifted through dumpsters, their wings trembling in desperation. They scavenged because that was all that was left—trapped in a moment of time that stretched on forever.

Abandoned cars, crumpled bags, and debris littered the city—a backdrop to the collapse of human ambition. Stray dogs, now skeletal and decayed, fought with feral cats over scraps of flesh. The animals’ forms clung to life, but just barely, as if frozen in a state between survival and decay. The flow of time itself had become erratic, twisted by the energy that once promised peace.

“We failed again…”

A shadowy yellow figure sobbed, striking the cracked ground. His tears mingled with the dust, his sorrow heavy enough to make the earth tremble. The weapon had shattered more than just nations—it had broken the very fabric of existence. Time flickered and bent, moments looping and distorting, as though the past, present, and future were trying to exist at once.

“Why? Why? Why!? We were supposed to bring peace! How many more times must we endure this suffering? How many more times will we repeat this endless cycle?”

From behind the yellow figure, a red man stepped forward. His teeth were clenched, and his hands clawed through his hair, shaking with anger. He was shaking with rage—at himself, at the world, at the spiraling chaos they had unleashed.

“Not again… not again... Agaiiinnnn! I can’t stand this anymore! Bring me back! End it already!” His words seemed to reverberate, trapped in the distorted loop of time, his plea repeating over and over as the energy that controlled it mocked their suffering.

The blue figure shuffled in frantic circles, his eyes wide, haunted by visions of their past—visions that blended with the present in twisted waves of energy. Silent screams echoed in his mind, mingling with the burning stench of ash, the weight of all that had been lost. His memories replayed in endless loops, fragmented by the broken flow of time.

“God, where are you? Reveal yourself! Don’t leave us here—trapped in this! Can’t you feel it? Time itself is broken!” His words bled into the air, as if swallowed by the distortion that warped reality around them.

The black and white figures stood together, their voices calling to the heavens, echoing like thunder across the desolate city. Their cries rumbled through the sky, unanswered, like a prayer forgotten by time itself, caught in the chaotic current of energy that had gone out of control.

Violet and green collapsed to the ground, exhausted beyond endurance. Madness, horror, and guilt twisted their faces, their voices trembling as they joined in the chorus of anguish.

“We were supposed to save them,” Violet whispered, eyes hollow. “We wanted to end the wars… not destroy time itself.”

“Someone… save us…” Green pleaded, her tears running like rivers down her face. Her sobs turned into violent shaking, her body wracked with guilt and horror. “We didn’t know it would be like this… not like this… We didn’t know we were tampering with forces we couldn’t control.”

Their cries for help, once united, fractured into bitter blame.

"You started this," Red snapped at Yellow, voice dripping with venom. "You said the weapon would bring peace—‘the final deterrent,’ you called it! Look what’s left! Look at this!" His arms waved furiously toward the empty city and the sky above, the moons frozen in their orbits as if the passage of time had ceased.

“I trusted you,” Yellow hissed back, standing tall, his voice seething with defensive anger. “I didn’t build the thing! You all agreed to harness it!”

Blue raised his voice, shaking in helpless frustration. "Agreed? What choice did we have? You think any of us could’ve seen this coming? That the energy would warp time, that we’d be trapped in this endless moment?”

“We were fools,” Black said coldly. “Blinded by our own egos. We thought we could control time, energy, everything… All we did was unravel it.”

White stepped forward, his voice filled with bitterness. “Peace through power—wasn’t that your mantra? Now we’re left to pick through the ruins of time itself. We’re prisoners of our own creation.”

They stared at each other, fury and regret mingling in their eyes. Each saw in the others a reflection of their own failure, their once-noble intentions turned into an unforgivable act of destruction.

The moons hung above them, silent and indifferent. Cold. Distant. The cosmic watchers, ever-present but offering no solace. Their light bathed the ruins in a sickly glow, casting long shadows across the desolate streets—a world caught in limbo, where time and energy had become untethered.

“I wanted to fix this…” Green whispered, her voice fragile. “I thought we could fix everything… I thought controlling time and energy would bring peace.”

“We can’t,” Black muttered, shaking his head. “There’s nothing left to fix. Time’s broken. We’re broken.”

“Maybe this was never about fixing anything,” White said softly, his eyes empty. “Maybe we were always meant to fail. We’ve become prisoners of time, forever repeating our mistakes.”

Violet trembled, her body shuddering under the weight of their shared guilt. "I just wanted the fighting to stop... I didn’t know we’d freeze it forever…"

“And now we’ve become what we hated most,” Yellow spat, his voice thick with disgust. “We’re the monsters—tampering with powers we never should’ve touched.”

The moons above them flickered slightly, but still remained cold, untouched by the suffering below.

They stood there, broken, surrounded by the ruins of their dreams. Rivals, not allies, each fighting their own inner battle, each weighed down by the crushing knowledge that they had caused this. That their weapon, designed to control time and energy to ensure peace, had instead unleashed the final war and distorted reality itself.

In a moment of quiet, they gazed up once more at the cold, uncaring sky.

“Please... someone save us...” their voices, once united, now fractured, still rose together in a mournful harmony.

But no one came.