Friday, January 16, 2009

Out, Out, Brief Candle

Zack clutched his rifle as he huddled in the corner of the bombed out bar. His breath formed into clouds of smoke that drifted away when he exhaled. Snowflakes drifted through the gash through the building’s roof.

The body that lay next to him coughed and stirred. The bandages on his left had turned a dark crimson. Zack patted his buddy’s shoulder and gave some encouraging words. He then scrounged around behind the bar. With a glint in his eye he resurfaced with a bottle of whiskey and a candle.

“Looks like we can have a bit of a good time,” he said before taking a swig off the bottle and passing it off. His buddy coughed and his shaking hands reached for the bottle.

The candle was lit as the pair huddled for warmth. Light warmed them from the cold. Silently they drank from the bottle. Silently they watched the candle burn.

Crash! Boom! The wall caved in. Zack dove behind the bar as the candle tipped over. A monster stepped through the wall. It’s red eyes surveyed the room, scanning everything over. Zack shivered in fear.

The body next to the knocked over candle coughed. The beast turned, its metal flexed, the machinegun raised, and the glowing red eyes locked on to its target.

Zack screamed as he stood from behind the counter. His assault rifle rang out as his fingers clenched. The machine staggered from the onslaught, but brought its own weapon to bear. The bar, the wall, and the ruined building were encased in a cacophony of noise. Dust and debris filled the air as the night was illuminated by muzzle flashes. Walls came down and the bar was reduced to splinters.

As suddenly as it started, it was quiet again. The metal machine staggered, then fell in a shower of sparks before becoming no more. Smoke rose and dust settled.

Zack coughed from behind the bar. His body riddled from the gunfire. His buddy’s rifle was aimed at the empty space where the machine once stood. Smoke wafted from the end of the barrel and his fingers still clenched the trigger.

The cold penetrated back into the men’s souls as the falling snow covered their bodies.

13 comments:

  1. WHOAAH! Now THAT is what "evocative" means. I'm INSIDE and it made me feel cold. I'd say "clouds of STEAM" about his breath, though, but that's just me (the "smoke" further down? I could just about smell it!) I think it's time to figure out a get-together---

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  2. That's some imagery right there. I feel cold reading it, too. Is this an apocalyptic piece?

    I saw you on the comment chain topic at blogcatalog.

    my blog is http://careerpeople.blogspot.com

    hope to see you there.

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  3. Truly, this is an awesome blog... Full of articles that will surely entertain its readers. I would definitely introduce it to my friends.

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  4. Hello Tim,

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  6. Thank you for all of your kind words.

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  7. nice short story(?) :)
    i have just uploaded a new post with photographs from today & there's two of my "edit" shirt lol, since you had left a comment asking

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  8. Nice piece of article . you have a nice creative mind . Continue the good work .

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  9. love the imagery of the story..well-chosen and meaningful words... anyways, thanks for dropping by my blog. cheers!!

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  10. I am learning to appreciate action films but I now know I like action writing. Instead of seeing blood and explosions I can focus on the impact of violence. I love short stories but I want to know more.

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