The After-End 01

A rising grey mist began to fill the atmosphere, a deep hooting sound was heard above the dusky horizon; a tiny-eyed crook-headed eagle with a broad head, hairless neck, its trunk covered in grey feathers but with a touch of black hue, and sharpened clawed talons skimmed through the intensely gloaming horizon with its wide grey feathered wings using its ocular vision to see what could not be seen or detected in the hazy mist. It searched, its strong beak curved at the end moved in the air from side to side to convey the outcome of the battle that has already begun. A battle from the dawn of time though everything seemed dusky. Many perceived it as always being out of time, as no daylight has ever evolved other than the reality of the red moon. The eagle flew back and forth with gallant stride. After circling the atmosphere for some countless number of times, it returned to the arm of a shrouded figure whose face is hidden behind the black steel mask he had on. He sat on a dark stallion with red eyes blaring hot air from its nostrils which crept out in a red fuming mist. The eagle stood on his cloaked arm in an upright stance moving its head sideways dancing to a mysterious tone from the bottomless hole far beneath the ground they stood on.

The strange bird all of a sudden, glanced at the shrouded figure in black garb, it ogled into the man's mind through his dark-colored eyes. The man's eyes became dimmed and began to dilate. He raised a coiled shofar in his left hand and

opened his lips to take in a deep breath. The crook-headed Eagle discerned his actions, it made a deep screeching sound and an air-dissecting scream. Then, it darted away in haste and eventually disappeared into the rising grey mist.

The coiled shofar made from an animal not yet named or known unto man was blown in full blast, the sound from it rippled its waves into the bitter oceans, red sea, stagnant lakes, deserted plains,stony valleys, and the sloppy mountains. From below the shrouded figure came a terrifying war cry. It broke out and stormed the atmosphere ordering the drowsing birds of the air and the little,creeping, and the huge wandering animals to battle. It raved the waters, inducing turbulent storms and waves. Waking the huge sea lions and sharks, frightening several fishes to death. Shining winged sharp swords merged with heavy clubs and unpolished axes, soiled javelins collided with flat-shaped spears, two-edged sabers clashed with curved sickle blades, wooden rods broke, metallic ones bent, rapiers pierced, crafted daggers plunged in, fleshy wounds surfaced, blood gushed out like a waterfall, foul language rang strong, groaning and moaning intensified on the field. Human blood splashed and spilled, dark contempt filled their tongue from an accumulated bank of vengeful minds and Souls. It ripened and clouded their thoughts and imagination. Revenge was their excuse but greed and hate confused them all, they have lost focus.

It was war, it pays no respect. Every man for himself, the slim, the mighty, the strong and the weak, the skilled and unskilled even the young were not spared some that did not take flight fought earnestly alongside their fathers. Those who chose to escape still met their death. Severe pain and gnashing of teeth of the fallen ones were not even heard as they crumbled on the bloody battlefield. They made soft whimpers that crept into the shady mist that sailed all over into the sky like a chimney bringing smoke out to the sky. It was fast and they were unaware of the happenings around them. The lustrous moon had turned ruddy. Hungry stiff-necked vultures dominated the sky waiting to scavenge the stiffs, an appetite they have been overseeing right from the dawn of the time.

Many uniformed soldiers fell by the swords, those in black religious habit were hooked on upright spears like bacon hanged on sticks and others on barren trees by their belts. Their garbs were soaked. It dripped with blood in minutes from their feet and formed a red puddle on the ground. The mighty and skilled ones on rust-coated chariots though stained with blood giving it a more reddish hue were killed with poisonous javelins while others fell in heaps upon themselves

feathered arrows adorned their bodies. Their pure blood became poisoned, it turned dark gushing from their wounds and spilling from their eyes to their checks. What a devastating sight to behold!

More wails as dark mist were lifted to the sky but the battle went on, one man for himself.After an infinite moment, Dead silence filled the battleground. The incessant crook sound made by the delighted buzzard feasting on their meals sparked a soul into consciousness. His curved fingers quivered, to reveal calloused nails filled withhold dirt as they held on to a broken wooden rod lying on the dirt. His lanky hand moved to reveal different appalling aged cuts turned scars on his

wrists. He released his hold. As he moved he felt restricted, his eyes opened but all he saw was darkness. He felt heavy like he was immersed in a pit full of bodies oozing out the stench. He decided to get up. With the little strength he had amassed in a short while, he pushed but the hefty corpse upon him restrained his attempt, he strived and tried again all to no avail.

Help! He screamed in his mind. His tongue tasted dry and he swallowed the humid air continuously.

Then a voice spoke with no traceable emotions. Help? Why should I help you? Why would

anyone help you? The voice inquired.

The hair at the back of his head stood at attention, with an adrenaline rush he didn't know he accumulated he shoved all the corpses off and leaped up immediately. Surprised, he glanced around to see who had spoken to him. A pungent smell hit him, it almost knocked him out, he wrinkled his flat nose and scrunched his wide mouth up to cover the holes of his nose. He tried to stand up but his legs couldn't carry him. Where has his energy gone? He felt weak and almost keeled over from the pain that throbbed in his right leg. He squatted and carefully pulled up his garb to his knee and glanced at the wound causing the prickly pulse that kept shooting impulses to his brain. On the wound, he saw a black but already muddy leech on his leg.