*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2247975-The-Fates
by Rune
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Dark · #2247975
This is a quick little story I wrote to test out this website.
The Fates.
Based on a true story...

         It was late at night, later than the boy normally would have been out. He had finished his dinner, after spending a while picking at his food. Everyday, it would be the same routine for the boy; wake up, go to school, eat dinner, finish chores. A routine this simple could drive one insane, but the boy powered through. His many chores usually didn't last past sundown. Tonight, however, they lasted much longer.
         The boy sneered at the smell of the pig pen, and wonders to himself why they even keep them anymore. He selects a shovel from the stockade, and begins his work. The manure begins to appear in piles and he pours the pigs' feed into their trough. The famished pigs practically crush each other to get a bite in. Gross; the boy thinks to himself. After a while, he eventually finishes all of his chores. Exhausted, the boy slumps out of the barn and trudges up the winding path to his homestead.
         The leaves crunch louder after every step--crunch--crunch--crunch. By now, it had been dark for an hour or two, but the boy couldn't have been sure. No one could have--for this was no ordinary night. But, the boy had no idea of what would come. All of a sudden, an ear-splitting howl emanates from nearby. The boy flinches for only a second, as this noise is typical near his home. So the boy continues on his path--crunch--crunch--crunch.
         After only a few steps, the howl repeats. He ignores it for a second time, but begins to act more casually.--crunch--crunch--crunch--. Then, for a third time, the howl persists, only this time it sounds more...human? It sounded as if someone was whispering into the boy's ear.
         The boy spins around, disoriented, and shouts out something inaudible. His hands clasp his ears, but this only edges on the noise. He stumbles off of the path, towards the brush. As he does this, the noises' volume dwindles. He turns to start back on the path, but is stopped by the surge in volume. It is leading me to the brush, he thinks out loud.
         He decides to humor the noise and paces slowly off the path. The moment he does, the noises choose to lower. The noises continue to lower and lower until it finally ceases, as the boy is within touching distance of the brush.
         What happens next... is something that the boy doesn't understand. Many of you won't even understand. Dear reader, even I don't understand!
         The world goes silent. It's as if... the world has stopped. By now, the darkness has crept upon the area, sooner than the boy had expected. A low hoarce voice speaks out to the boy. "The fates are already upon us. Anything and everything you do is trivial. Humanity will not prevail." The boy has no idea what he-...it is talking about, but deep down he knows. And that's the problem. He knows.

The boy stays completely still as the hands of death itself wrap around him. For he knows...too much.



© Copyright 2021 Rune (icerune1 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2247975-The-Fates