This is a story I wrote for an English class. We had to write the story behind The Scream by Edvard Munch. But little know fact. There are two other paintings in the same setting so I kind of incorporated them into my story, just I tiny bit out of order.
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A hooded figure gently moves through the shadows of an abandoned ally. Rats scurry around and across his feet, they do not fear what he is. Bones litter the alley, white bits gleaming underneath the moon light. They crunch and creak under his feet. The smell of death surrounds the silent city. The Sons of man fear him, they fear the power he has over them. Plague fills the street just as fear fills the hearts of the sons of man. They know he's coming. They know he's near. The Sons of man gather on an old bridge. They must stop him. "We will no longer be killed", they cry out into the streets, empty alleys echo the cry. Bodies are mauled before them. Cold walls are covered in warm blood. The dead lay silent on the cold ground, faces contorted into a scream.
A hooded figure quietly moves through the shadows of a dead city. The Sons of man hunt him. Red, wild flames lick the building's walls. He knows what is coming. He does not stop them. It is far to late to have any pity for fools. The Sons of man find him on the bridge. Wild, red flames now lick the sky. They've caught him. They rip his hood away. His fate is sealed. An ancient spell binds him to canvas. His face is fearful, screaming. Not for what they have done, but for what will become. The shadows shift in the dead towns. Demons spread word like their fire spreads in a town. The one they call Uthulum is gone. The shadows consume the world, for Death is no longer there to stop them.
