Bred For Extinction

Tortured Dreams of Destiny

The lone figure straddled the black and chrome "horse" that rumbled between his legs. His long brown hair whipping across his dirt caked sunglasses as the bike screamed down the road. Leather vest flapping in the open air as the scent of approaching rain streaked into his nostrils, flooding his senses with a sinister feeling of impending gloom. The road before him, straight and unbroken, seemed to now waver buckling up like a wild bronco trying to unseat its rider. His vision becoming a shaking scene of incomprehensible data as the ground shook, mountains seeming to form as the land rose up, and then reversed, dropping off into blackened crevices that surely lead to the earth's core. Yet, Dwight fought on, trying to hold the bike to its course as the road twisted and turned, leaped and lunged under the mass of metal and rubber. Suddenly, the road was gone.

He was falling...down...down. His only sense was that of desperation as his stomach slid up into his throat, residing there, hampering his breath like an inflated balloon. Eyes flashing up to catch a glimpse of retreating light as he plunged deeper and deeper, limbs frantically grasping at the air in a vain effort to latch on to anything. Muscles finally tensing with the foreboding of the eventual ground that would end his descent, and eyes shut tightly...awaiting.

The impact was never felt. Only the sounds of singing birds and the scent of wildflowers carried on the calming breeze that now caressed his cheeks became apparent. Eyes rushed open as the scene exploded before him. Trees surrounded the small clearing in which his boots held solid ground once again. Sunshine warmed his skin, and slowly he lifted his booted foot, tapping it gently to the ground to check for stability. Again and again he questioned down, striking the surface harder each time, until both feet began a full-fledged assault, questioning the earth's reality. His breath becomes a quick laughter of relief, until..................SSSSSTHHHH.... CRAAAAAASHHHHHH...THHSSSS

The strike of lightning explodes before him with such intensity that his head seems to swell, vision burnt and ears ringing. The energy from the impact circling out, in waves like the ripple from a teardrop falling into a pool of water. Reaching the tree line that encircles Dwight, the vibrant blue colored energy floods their roots with power, changing their substance and mutating their growth until they seem immeasurable. Their massive frames now leaning in as they stretch upwards, forming a dome over Dwight's bewildered form, shrouding out any and all light that had before reached his pupils...and all was dark.

Suddenly, his senses awoke again. The sound of raspy whispers and aged cackling struck his ears and slowly a candle's flame hovered from the tree line. Dwight's eyelids squinted down, wrinkles of concern rushing from their hiding places on his face as another candle flame appeared....and another......flowing around him in the trees until he was surrounded. A haunting chant arose from the silence, and quickly the candles brightened, casting a shadowy glow out from the confides of the trees.

In an instance the forms rushed forward from their encirclement. Dark, cloaked hags, their features twisted and contorted into representations of utter lunacy, streamed forward as if they were the winds themselves. Their wretched and crooked fingers held high above their heads, wriggling in movement that seemed unnatural, heart-twisting moans escaping their leathery lungs. Strain and struggle become Dwight's partners as the twitching digits elongated and like a thousand stringy tentacles, bound him, dropping his frame to the ground with a massive thud.

The crones' weathered faces sneered down from above him, hacking ancient words long lost to man from their saliva-covered lips. Shrieks rang in his ears until one voice cracks the chatter above all others, "Sisters, look, the moon comes." Suddenly, all heads twist up, eyes fixated on the silvery orb that now casts down its wavering show. Bonds begin to unravel from Dwight's body as the hags flood away in a single horde of darkness, disappearing back into the trees, their forms whisking away into the shadows.