THE HIDDEN
It was a cold winter’s morning, the grass fresh with fragrant dew yet sickly green; swaying to the command of the wind. The celestial sky was dim as the grey clouds raced on, becoming distorted. A hint of golden gleaming light shot through the cracked surface of the clouds engulfing the trees and its crispy leaves; the wind hurling the leaves as they crackled, pelting the moist ground. The putrid trees cast their hideous shadows as they glared at the ones passing by. The wind was howling and growling and its whispers were diabolical as it felt the bodies. Homes were cornered as they yearned for warmth; the misty steam crawled up the windows casting a barrier between man and the world that was once known. Britain was ravaged by winter. Slowly, the dusky fumes rose up through the chimneys as it circled, swiveling enigmatically as it bombarded for consumption. As night sunk in the forboding light of the moon shone; as its illuminating light licked the streets and swarmed past the flickering lamps.
Fog closed in; its dim white features were spine-tingling as if something lay behind. Luxuriously large victorian homes stood in the midst of the palish fog. From the distance, a light silently crept out as it was slowly born from the crystallized chandelier which was planted in the homes of many. Rats born of darkness roamed the streets, scurrying along the grey surface of the earth, the healthy cats and dogs stayed steadily asleep in the luxuries of their owner’s homes. Peasants were in rigid positions; wailing, coughing and dying they seemed sinners who sought absolution. Repulsive diseases contaminated and feasted on the flesh of the weak as weeks went by they soon feasted for some demonic beasts. Iron fencing forged from hell impaled every corner of the streets it was false protection. Gargoyles of madness watched the streets, but yet everything seemed dead. The night was stealthy and deathly, but something wasn’t right. It was hell on earth.
