1.3: The Coming Storm
Sep. 5th, 2010 05:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wamphyrichild posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thewritersnookSeptember in the desert. The sun was beginning to disappear behind the mountains, and across the hostile stretch of sun-baked sand and rock, life was beginning to stir. A rattlesnake slithered across sand and under brush in search of a meal. A lizard saw him, but too late. The snake had him before he could run. Wind blew. Clouds that had been hanging ominously over the Funeral Mountains drifted closer. Thunder rumbled across the valley and slowly, the smell of rain filled the air.
Death Valley earned its name. Countless graves lay within this hostile stretch of desert, many of them little more than sun-bleached bones covered with a loose layer of dust. One grave, though, was new. Well-tended. Sand had been carefully brushed away from the unmarked headstone each day. Nearby, a ring of stones and charred wood marked a campsite recently abandoned. The vigil had been called off and the living returned to areas more suitable for life. If they'd only waited a little longer...
The air was heavy with rain and electricity. Thunder rumbled, closer this time. Wind howled. Loose sand and firewood went flying. A bobcat leaped nimbly out of the way of a branch and retreated to higher ground. The rattlesnake took cover as the first drops of rain began to fall on the grave.
Crack! A bolt of lightning hit the headstone. Chunks of rock were blasted away. The rocks on the grave rattled, shifted, and rolled away as something clawed its way up from below. Another bolt of lightning hit the headstone, and when the last peal of thunder died and the rain began in earnest, a black cloaked figure leaned heavily on the cracked granite. He looked back into the empty grave and laughed, and then made his way stumblingly toward the distant city lights.
Muse: The Undertaker
Fandom: WWE
Word Count: 303
Death Valley earned its name. Countless graves lay within this hostile stretch of desert, many of them little more than sun-bleached bones covered with a loose layer of dust. One grave, though, was new. Well-tended. Sand had been carefully brushed away from the unmarked headstone each day. Nearby, a ring of stones and charred wood marked a campsite recently abandoned. The vigil had been called off and the living returned to areas more suitable for life. If they'd only waited a little longer...
The air was heavy with rain and electricity. Thunder rumbled, closer this time. Wind howled. Loose sand and firewood went flying. A bobcat leaped nimbly out of the way of a branch and retreated to higher ground. The rattlesnake took cover as the first drops of rain began to fall on the grave.
Crack! A bolt of lightning hit the headstone. Chunks of rock were blasted away. The rocks on the grave rattled, shifted, and rolled away as something clawed its way up from below. Another bolt of lightning hit the headstone, and when the last peal of thunder died and the rain began in earnest, a black cloaked figure leaned heavily on the cracked granite. He looked back into the empty grave and laughed, and then made his way stumblingly toward the distant city lights.
Muse: The Undertaker
Fandom: WWE
Word Count: 303