S H O R T S

falling

The grey light hit his eyes as he looked up at the sky in anticipation. He flung an arm up in frustration and squinted still at the clouds. They were coming soon, he knew, but when? And what? His mind told him some things, but not most of what he needed.

The clouds parted for half a second, blinding him as he stumbled, but they closed again, leaving a dull glow and large black patches in his vision. The ground shook as something landed. He looked across the faded landscape of scrubby light grass and grey trees that matched the sky, at the thing that landed. It wasn't what he was looking for, so he turned from the form crawling out of the rapidly healing crater, and didn't see it scamper off into the distance, thunder echoing the footsteps from the sky.

The next thing that fell was met more warmly. It tumbled into his arms, a smile splitting its face, eyes bright, wings tangled together. He kissed it, and it hugged him and kissed back, spinning them despite its legs being wrapped around his waist. He grinned, and set it down as he stopped himself from falling. It stayed near him, arms grasping at his own. They eventually took hands, both going back to staring at the sky. It knew he was waiting.

It came, and he saw it, and he picked up the one holding his hand and turned and ran. The only thing on the horizon was the newly made house that was also old and broken down. He didn't know which, but he hadn't seen it before now. He didn't mull over it too much as he ran, tripping over the dirt clumps. Nothing was worse than falling now, and he could hear it fearfully whispering in his ear as they neared the house.

It was an old, tall house with a sagging porch and a dilapidated roof, windows boarded like eyes closed for burial. It was grey and brown like the land around it. A tree appeared around a corner as he ran toward the front door. A porch plank nearly broke under his feet, and he crashed through the door, crashing to the ground in a heap with it in his arms. He scrambled up and slammed the still open door as a roar swept over the house. The noise kept strong and loud as the one on the floor quivered, and he ran to its side and hugged it, rocking them back and forth and murmuring shushing sounds. After what seemed like hours, years, the sound stopped. He stood and went to the door, leaving it still silently whimpering on the ground. Cautiously he cracked the door and peered out.

If the land had looked lifeless before, it was now deader than a 100-year-old corpse. The greying trees had vanished, and the light, golden patches of scrubby grass were as if they'd never existed. All that remained was grey and black soil, in clumps and craters. It seethed and boiled as he watched, and a black oily substance seeped from the spreading cracks. Shuddering, he turned inside and bolted the door. The house seemed suddenly weaker than ever.

A rustle caught his eye, and he spun again to catch the one on the ground being swept away by the beast that fell before it. He yelled, the loudest sound since the wave echoing through the hall, and sprang forward, reaching toward its fear-filled eyes and outstretched hands. He caught on, and pulled like a game of tug of war that children play, competitively, as if their life depended on it. For all he knew, his life did. Yelling more, he pulled harder, until it cried out and the beast growled and let go. They spilled backward, and for the second time in a short time, he was hugging and comforting it, rocking again in a way of safety as the beast bounded away. He smoothed its wings and it cried into his shoulder, its memories more plentiful than his but far worse. He felt this and clung tighter to it, his tears burning at the back of his mind.

The dark house closed in on them, inviting yet threatening, the dusty blackness whispering promises of safety and muttering words of fear and anger. He got up, bringing it with him, and they ventured forward, the nearly non-existent light of the crack under the door disappearing. The hall enveloped them, its noiseless floors adding to his tension and apprehension. He felt his way forward, blind, but the one beside him moved ahead, tugging at his hand. He felt stairs under his feet, and slowly stepped forward, allowing it to lead him. They reached the top and were in another corridor, this one lit by the eerie glow of three red lights, flickering along the hall. He moved forward, eyes fixated on it in the light. Its eyes reflected the dancing scarlett, but the reflection reached deeper than that, reaching into the depths of its orbs. He suddenly remembered those eyes showing beautiful things, not the horrors and pain they showed now, and a spasm passed through his shoulders before he could help, a crashing of anger and sadness forcing his body to move. It looked back in concern, and he mustered a reassuring smile. It smiled back, full of joy for no reason, and turned, pulling him down the hall.

They reached the end, leaving in front of them a door, with a key in the lock and a lion's head knocker. He reached forward and turned the key, slowly pushing the door open, like any cautious adventurer. The door sprang out of his hand, the knocker banging against it as it flew open. Staring across the threshold, he couldn't believe his eyes.

The room was lit by sun, clean and bright, pouring in through the windows, with their white curtains fluttering in the breeze. A large bed with a canopy, a white lacy blanket and impossibly fluffed up pillows stood against one wall, a tray of breakfast- waffles, strawberries, eggs, bacon, orange juice- on the nightstand. A rocking chair sat in front of a flame filled fireplace on the other side of the room, another tray of food on a table next to it. A dresser with a comb and a bowl of water and a towel stood against the far wall, with drawers open to reveal fresh clothes. He started forward, but it grabbed his arm.

He turned, a look of confusion clouding his eagerly happy and relieved expression. Its face was full of immense sorrow as it pulled him back, and shut the door. It gestured to another door, this one ajar to a dark, dusty room, an echo of the first one, the bed frame empty, the windows boarded, the fireplace ashy and old, all lit by yellow lantern feebly guttering in the corner. It led him inside, and he followed in a daze as they sat, and it shut the door.

They sat next to the lantern, it climbing onto his lap, and he embraced it, stroking its wings again and staring into the light. The haze in his mind steadily cleared, and he clutched it tighter, hearing its breaths even as it slumped against him. He closed his eyes too, and the roaring began again. They huddled together in their sleep, faces lit by the lantern, dreams empty.

---

They woke to the roaring again. The closed door rattled on its hinges. Had this been happening the entire time? He huddled toward it, but it gently moved his arms and got to its feet. It took his hand and pulled at it, prompting him to stand warily and following it to the door. He paused, confused and uneasy, looking questioningly at it. It smiled reassuringly and reached for the knob.

The door opened to a swirl of darkness, as black as the house was before the red lights, but moving and tinged with crimson. It stepped forward, and he yelped in surprise as it pulled him along again, sending the two toppling into the void.

It was cold, and they were falling. He frantically reached for it and it wove its fingers in his. They slowed, and he shivered. It put its arms around him, and he could feel its concern and anger, why was it angry? It sensed his concern in turn and planted a kiss on his forehead.

The void wasn't so cold anymore, or maybe it was that he just didn't care anymore.

They reached the ground- was it an eternity later, or a second? The ground was soft, and he wanted to stay there, but he was up again soon, hands tugged at by others, and he and it were on their feet and moving, walking, running toward the darkest place he had seen yet, darker than the house, and soon they were upon it. It was a doorway, or rather a door, cracked open with a ray of grey light coming out of it, and as they reached the door, the one holding his hand slowed, puttering to a stop, its fluttering wings folding behind it and unfurling again as it reached forward and embraced him, its wings closing around him. He hugged it back, confusion filling his mind at the sadness once again emanating from it. He looked at it, thoughts displayed on his face, and it smiled back, eyes showing the sorrow he felt from it.

It gently pushed him away from it, and toward the door- when had it gotten behind him? His questions unanswered, he dug in his heels, but its arms were bigger than before, its entirety bigger than before, bigger than him and stronger too, and he turned away again, staring at the door he was unwillingly edging toward. He wanted to stay here, but... He turned again, and it was small again and crying. He wanted- he needed to comfort it, but when his head swiveled for the last time, he saw he was through the door, and it was gone, and all there was was color, and sound, and it was over, or maybe it finally began.