Monstrous
Apocalypse Soon => The End => Topic started by: prezhorusin04 on August 11, 2006, 11:36:15 PM
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THE ENTROPICNIC
MAD- www.nwowatcher.com
8/11/06
“Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.”
~Marie Curie
“Dreams are answers to questions we haven't yet figured out how to ask.”
~X-Files
The day was a picture perfect landscape of deep blue skies and majestic rolling clouds, a regal carpet of lush green stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. Flowers of various species were in full bloom as bees’ merrily danced to collect the nectar of their labor, and petite birds sang their melodic symphonies to all who were wise enough to hear the subtle words of their age old tale. The sun hung overhead in rising spring, it was the perfect time of the season for a picnic. You walk through the open field of well trimmed and fertile grass, beneath the orb of rich, thick heaven, and notice that blankets and tents are set up all around. It is a picnic! And it’s just beginning.
As you dreamily stroll along to find your spot, you notice many faces amidst the dozens of people in the crowd. Some of them are familiar, while others are strangers, but they all smile and nod as you make your way through the field. A few of the men laugh and pat you on the back when you pass them by, while some women blush and curtsey towards you in a shy fashion. All of the people, perhaps hundreds, are having an extravagant time, it is a beautiful day, and you smile with genuine satisfaction at the good will and happiness of this celebration of friends and neighbors, strangers and lovers that are assembled.
Food and orderves are set up beneath tents, as people pass trays and drinks around in plentiful abundance. Platters and silver dishes are passed about with elaborate creations of artistic design displayed in perfect arrangements like masterful bouquets of flowers. Sweet and fragrant aromas fill the air in a splendor of tasteful delicacies. It seems that everyone has contributed to the picnic, and no one will go hungry today. Even the birds are being fed bread crumbs by some of the guests, as rabbits happily munch off vegetables and carrots being fed out of the palms of open human hands. What a wonderful picnic! You begin to wonder if you’ve ever felt so at ease and peace as you finally make it to your destination. Could any day be more perfect than this?
A lush purple blanket is set out before you, the fabric looking almost like wool. A precisely placed square of comfort, big enough for two, invites you to sit upon it and take refuge in the festivities. A wooden basket waits in the middle, while a small bucket of ice-cubes holds a beautifully labeled bottle of red wine which beacons for you to have a soothing drink. Somehow you know that you have found your spot, and that someone will be joining you soon. As if the day couldn’t get any more serine and tranquil, when you begin to sit down you notice a huge rainbow stretching across the distant horizon, crossing from one end of the earth to the other. All the colors flicker vibrantly though the sky is clear and no signs of rain are in site. You then begin to witness that the rainbow hangs above a giant mountain of snow capped majesty, and you quickly become enthralled by the site of the strange mountain and the rainbow which it wears like a crown.
Though it’s miles into the distance, it still reaches high into the heavens like a defiant giant against the backdrop. You think to yourself that it would take days to reach the summit, and perhaps another day or two before you would cross the vast stretch of grass land to gaze upon the full site of the rocky peaks and cliffs. The thought of journeying to the mountain is intriguing, but at the same time you are terrified of facing the full weight of it. It seems like a mountain that could swallow people whole if given the chance, and the arched rainbow begins to look like a marred frown taking up the whole sky. If a man were to climb to the top of that mountain, that temple, what would he return as? Could he ever return? A sudden ominous feeling comes over your senses and it is then that you begin to feel the subtle tremor of the earth beneath your feet.
Squinting your eyes, you can see all too clearly. What was once a snow capped peak now begins to move and reshape itself against your confused view. It remolds to a new form, extending off the sides of the mountain like…. Wings! They are now huge white wings which open at the top of the mountain, and through the new cloud of dust and frost tumbling down the slopes, you see that they are the wings of a Great White Dragon; now perched upon the tip of the rock like a nest in which it waits. The people at the picnic now see it too, how could they avoid it? The ground shivers as if dull moaning jackhammers were tiptoeing through the meadows and the newly emerged dragon slowly raises its neck and head towards the rainbow in the sky. The casual chatter has become silent as the guests look at each other in perplexed and uncomprehending confusion. Many of them see the White Dragon on the mountain just like you do, and they step a little closer to get a better view.
Just as suddenly as it appeared, seemingly arising from the earth like a dark mirage, the mouth of the Dragon explodes in a fiery belch of volcanic fury. The ground booms beneath your feet in reverberation of the agonized growl, as tents fall and guests scatter to escape the mystery before them. Some fall to their knees from the blast while others shout and scream in anxious excitement. You shield your eyes as a plume of smoke and sparks shoots high into the air, a flow of lava now spewing forth from the Dragon’s mouth like a fountain.
Streaks of shooting stars burst forward in the sky like fireworks, all the colors of the rainbow blazing through the twilight in every direction. The sun goes dark in the mist of newly rising smoke and ash. Almost instantly, day was turning to night and it seems as if the very stars in the cosmos were falling to earth to the delight of an angry gravity. You then realize that they are getting closer, and the guests begin to rush each other in order to escape the oncoming fury of fire from heaven.
Closer, closer still they reach, traveling at incomprehensible speeds. Uncountable sparks of multi-colored fire approaching from the mouth of the dragon who sits in triumph on the mountain top beneath the rainbow crown of the sky. You want to run but you cannot move, the sight is too terrible and magnificent to turn away. For the moment you are hypnotized by the frightening beauty which approaches. What had been a perfect day only moments ago, was mutated into a sick spectacle of deception and alarm. Ever near, ever near, the crowd draws a breath of anticipation at what they know is about to strike.
And then they arrive. The shooting stars emerge from their craters as smoldering Giants with outstretched wings like angels, fiery swords of flame and sparks gripped tightly in their mighty hands. They are masculine but sexless, easily towering over all the attendants of the picnic. Sparkling, gold plated armor adornes their muscled physiques, and it begins to rain random showers of burning lava and rocks onto the people who shriek and flee in sizzling agony. The ground quakes as jutting chasms open in the grass like wounds of dry dirt, handfuls of people fall into the earth screaming for mercy while the beautiful and terrible Giants make their way into the crowds. The people run frantically in every direction trying to escape the awful site, some even trample those close to them and push others out of the way to gain distance. Friend had quickly turned to foe in the insane dash for escape.
Avoiding a fresh shower of burning rocks and sparks, you watch in sheer horror at what has transpired. The ‘angels’, many over seven feet tall with blonde hair and blue eyes (you imagine that the Great White Dragon has blue eyes too), raise their thick weapons and begin sheathing their heavy weight through the people like they were mere crops to be plucked up at harvest time. The flaming swords and scythes could cut through two or three people in one instant, and the faces of the Giants showed no emotion, no remorse. The people in the crowds scream in agony and fear as they are struck down in their cold tracks.
Blood begins to fall upon the earth, spilling forth in atrocity after atrocity as torsos are separated from their still running legs; heads are lopped off into the air with expressions of 'O' mouthed surprise. You want to help, to stop these beings from engaging in this terrible slaughter, but what could you do in a duel with such ferocious warriors? You are unarmed and they are towering bulks of form with graceful swiftness, you could never defeat one with your bare hands, let alone an amassed army of them.
Within moments it is a massacre, the ‘angels’ hover over the ground in small bursts, easily outdistancing a man or woman running at full speed. The gust of their flapping wings alone is enough to knock some of the people off of their feet, while others trip and fall tumbling into the ugly, open chasms of the earth. Hands claw at the soil in an effort to crawl up out of the depths, but the earth only seems to open up wider in order to swallow more burnt human offerings. There was a great gnashing of teeth and clenching of fists, but the ‘angels’ continued about their bloody mission of thinning the frantic crowd.
Some scream for mercy as they run, but still they were split in half. Of man and woman none were safe from the fury of the dark, vengeful 'angels' dressed in light. While the people displayed horrible chaos and emotion in their scurrying about, the ‘angels’ did their work with the calm calculated precision of mechanical accuracy. Going from one to another making sure that everyone was taken and that none were spared. Some people were impaled; others were crushed beneath the feet of both humans and ‘angels’ alike, but none escaped. None could retreat and any safety or distance found was only temporary at the relentless onslaught of the merciless ‘angels’ in golden armor.
And then, suddenly the inevitable sight of piercing blue eyes found their way to you. Terror struck your heart as you searched for a route of escape, but you knew that there would be none. There was no place to hide from the gaze of those eyes, no tree to climb, no hole in the earth that was deep enough where you would ever find refuge. The being took flight, twenty feet became ten, and then five, and as he landed in front of you with his burning sword held high to strike, you finally turned to run. At once, a soothing voice like music sang a gentle, secret melody in your ears. “If ye run, ye shall surely die. Stand and you will live forever.”
You faced the creature and stood your ground as the blazing sword, seemingly forged from the very fires of hell itself, came down on you with the swift power of that muscular arm. It passes right through you though, there is no pain or injury. The blistering gaze of the angel stares through you as well, now as if you are invisible to its sight and can no longer be perceived. It flies away in majestic nobility to find those who would dare to run. You stand. You still stand.
“Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic.”
~W. H. Auden
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MAD is an Administrator at www.nwowatcher.com and co-host of its Revolution Radio program which can be found at www.revradio.org. Recent articles by MAD can be found HERE (http://nwowatcher.com/smf/index.php?topic=5820.0).