Short stories from my creative writing class

#007 - Student generated prompt

Prompt - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=np02phdwrwk

Adrenaline runs through my veins as the embroidered scarf in my hands whips around in the fire. 

The forest is lit up and the screams of the dead hollow the earth beneath my feet. I rush into the beyond and reach an abandoned train tunnel. Smoke seeps off of my form and the intense heat ripples off of my body like paint.

My feet pounding against the train tracks layers through my bones, the upturned nails sink into my flesh and as the adrenaline fades away the pain of the burns and other injuries catch up to me.

The rough quilted scarf suddenly feels so much heavier in my hands, the burning embers falling off like patchwork. Soft sorrow leaks through my every breath as ragged agony seeps through my skin.

Pale cold flows through every crack in the walls, and my luminescent blood emboldens the broken tracks.

The pendant on my neck snaps and clatters to the ground.

Electronic voices deposit their lost thoughts into my steps and just one repeating thought leaks from my hand as I stumble on.

"Better to be a good lord than a dead king."

Long mourning doves glow in the welcoming darkness proving unusable to reach the end. Bouncing green waves spiral through the hallways and into the roots of singing trees.

Snow flutters past my face and the unforgetting light stings my eyes and freezes my tears as they flow from my eyes.
Harsh blue burrows into the ice white, and my harrowing hale blood infects and spreads through the dispersive expanse of dark brightness.

The barren woods are an exact mirror image of those slowly crumbling behind me in ebony smoke, ash falls down like snow, Cranes pluck their mammalian prey out from under the dusted lake and the carved night hallowed in the marred landscape of the divine woodland.
Softly I trace the door, arrow slits blank the framework and the rancid smell of oil stings my wounds.

Harshly I thrust open the door to be met with the overwhelming despair of the lies woven through my consciousness being shattered as the charred corpses of those I once called comrade rip their way into my existence.

The scarf I hold so very dearly is pressed against my chest as though to stop the crushing, overwhelming, breaking realization of lonesomeness that follows the wandering spirit dropping through the world and changing lives in an instant.

Through my glassy eyes the lofty green eyes of a child's doll peer at me from the cracked nursery, and slowly it crumples and fades to ash.

Shattered tears drop to the ground and mix with the ashen floor. My ragged breathing stirs through the clouded and collapsed foundations of my sorrow, purple outlines my vision and the hallucinatory arrows fly through my head and the traces of arguments litter the back of my mind.

The soft trickling of the fountain is interrupted by an icy crack of someone breaking the surface. Heavy footsteps clatter through the long-forgotten hallway, a hollow sword clashes through the air with the lost souls who were ripped from their home to feed the endless, senseless, worthless war.

Mercy shines from the ceiling as the broken glass fragments shower from my hands as the world quiets in mourning.
Soft glow ricochets off of the silver blade and shines into my mind.

Unforgiving answers break through the soft quilted barrier and through the clambering of my mind I grab the untouched blade and press it to my throat letting the ruby bloodflow catch on the pale, scarred, burnt, flesh of my form.

Screaming quiet greets my last goodbye and the promise of the home that abandoned me greets my rational fear of the cross beyond the veil.
Light drops from my hands as the last dying embers of my life fade away like rain in autumn.

Deep rains greet my soul in the beyond, stars expand and welcome my entrance among the forgotten goodbyes and the lost dreams, slowly falling down to greet another day I am woken up from my slumber to be greeted by a deep supernova of broken and lost promises of the unknown.

Knowing darkness welcomes me once again and the deep tones of violin reacts to the high clash of the lyre as once again the ebony is consumed by the lawless light.

Chains of the light are broken by the key of darkness and slowly through the fight my memory fades away to be replaced with nothing more than longing to be known by the waves of the young followed by the wisdom of the old.