Fire....
Everthing was on fire.
Smoke filled the air, its sickening stench nothing compared to the thick death that hung oh so heavy in the atmosphere.
People were screaming, running left and right, children abandoned on the streets, crying, screaming for the comfort of their parents.
The parents that will never come.
Soldiers marched, shooting down whoever they so pleased, the inocent lives slipping through their blood stained fingertips.
Tanks rolled over the mountains of burnt, bullet ridden corpses, gunfire slick.
It was over...
London has fallen...
23 hours earlier.
London.
0800 hours.
It was an early autumn morning, the sun just staring to show its face in all of its glory, preparing the world for a new day.
A cold day.
It was always cold in London, sometimes you would be lucky to have a nice warm day, or even a comfortable afternoon, but it always seemed that the choice of whether was cold and damp.
Whether was such an easy topic, it was something everyone had in common.
The only difference being in how you personally perceive it.
I suppose that is why it is such an easy topic to formulate in idle conversations.
People see it as a way to start, a way to open into somthing deeper.
Or perhaps humans just genuinely have nothing more intuitive to talk about on a daily basis.
I suppose it would be preferable to start of with something simple, instead of 'Good morning, did you know your mother is dead?'
Today, everything was peaceful.. calm.
The birds lightly chirping, the smell of petrichor accompanying the crisp Autumn morning, washing away the pesky summer.
It the type of morning where you would try to sleep in, relax.
Forget about your worries for the brief amount of time that was presented.
It was indeed a pleasant morning...
A scream tore through air, causing a rather violent awakening.
He knew that voice, he had heard it a million times.
Instantly he sprung out of the warm comfort of his sheets, his feet creating dull thuds on the carpeted floor.
Danger hung in the air, forcing him to move his feet faster.
In an instant, he swung the bathroom door open, his mind not burdened with the cloud of sleep as his wide eyes trained to the corner of the room where a ginger boy sat, tears in his eyes and blood coating his hands in thick layers of red.
"Matt!" He yelled, bolting to the ginger's side, his eyes still holding that pain and fear.
"T-Tom.." Matt sobbed out looking away from his shaking hands.
"Tom... it hurts." He whimpered, tears streaking down his pale face.
Not even moments later loud footsteps pounded down the hall, appearing within the small bathroom in a rushed and fearful manner.
"Matt!" He cried, neither of the two having to look back to realize who it was.
Edd stood in the doorway his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast rate.
Matt let out a large strained sob, his eyes filling with a whole new wave of fresh tears.
YOU ARE READING
Last To Fall.
Romance(TomTord) Finally, all he could have ever hoped for was in his hands, everything was perfect. Yet, is anyone ever truly happy as the King of a land bound by isolation? COVER CREDIT- TrashyChelsy --on twitter.
