Catharsis II: An Army of Words (AUDITIONS)

Applicant #59: Spectrum Pandemonium

After the world began, there was White.

It was a pure, virgin world but there was nothing in White except Peace. It was too peaceful and bare.

The Gods got bored and each of them sent a gift of colour.

They first sent Yellow. It was a happy colour and the White world received swirls of Yellow rain. The world was in high spirits, jovial and beaming with sunlight.

Next was a whisk of Blue that embraced a large part of the White world. It was cool and pleasant to the eyes, it went well with White.

The Gods nodded, colours indeed were vital.

Then Red splashed, brisk and strong, flowed between the cracks like blood rushing on veins. Red extended but never mingled with Yellow and Blue.

The three colours were indifferent with each other. They follow their own path, they colour their own space. They didn't mind how big or small the spaces they occupied, they just didn't care.

But Yellow started caring.

Because Blue was blue and Red got angry.

Red was blocked by the Blue's fat rear so Red needed to find another opening. But Blue's flab accidentally touched Red's tail. Appalled by what happened, Red reddened some more and shrieked and coiled its tendrils around Blue.

Blue huffed and blubbered and walloped thin Red with its plump trunk.

Blue received bruises. The bruises were Violet.

Red also got bruises. The bruises were Purple.

The Gods laughed. They were entertained, they wanted more.

So, as said, Yellow cared. Yellow wanted to make Red and Blue happy, never angry nor sad. But the bouncy colour was clumsy.

Red and Blue fought, giving each other bruises. Violet and Purple splattered. Yellow tried to stop them but it stepped on a Purple and slipped and collided with Blue and bounced toward Red.

There were explosions. Orange energies spiralled and burst out eagerly. Greens pockmarked everything.

The Gods laughed.

There was chaos. Chaos was entertaining.

There was no White any longer.

After years of war, millions of hues were born.

Millions died.

The Gods laughed. They were entertained. They wanted more.

The colours took sides. They fought according to their Shades.

White was no longer White, it had turned into a battlefield. Nothing was pure or peaceful. There instead were hostile colours, each unique, no similarities.

They fought. They wrestled and rolled on the ground, pointing at their differences as the reason of the conflicts. The darker Shades were said to be the ones who started it, the brighter ones were the good colours, said to have wanted peace and harmony.

But what really started it?

The Gods had gone tired. They yawned and slept.

When they woke up. . .

Everything was Black.