Extinguished

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EXTINGUISHED

Death, forget us.
We are alone, wading through a field, a field that stretches across the horizon. The moon glows in the evening sky, and the sun sets over distant mountains. I hold her hand.
Death, have pity.
I look at her. "Are you serious?"
She laughs and says, "No."
The cold wind blows against us. The sun sets, painting the sky in red and orange and yellow.
"Hey, you," I say. "You're ridiculous."
"I know. I know." She tries to keep a straight face. "Just like you, right?"
Above us, the crescent moon glows in the blue sky.
We keep walking, wading through the field.
Her eyes look toward me. "So what's on your mind?"
I shrug and say, "I might get promoted."
She just looks at me.
I say, "You know, at work."
She smirks. "You're so romantic."
Above us, the crescent moon glows, unusually large, unusually bright.
I look up at the sky. "Well," I say, "More money means more time with you."
We keep walking. Her hand feels warm in mine.
Death, thanks for ignoring us.
The wind blows against us. Through flowing grass, it casts ripples across the field. Thunder faintly rumbles. Behind us, in the distance, are storm clouds. The clouds drift toward us, approaching us.
Death, please forget us.
Above us, in the evening sky, a few stars appear.
She points at the sky. "Look there."
"What?"
"You see that constellation?"
"I just see the moon."
"No, really," she says. "You know, that star cluster is so far away, that it probably doesn't exist anymore."
I raise my eyebrows.
"The light from the stars we are seeing was given off before dinosaurs were around." Her eyes light up. "Isn't that amazing? We're seeing something that no longer exists."
I just look at her and smile. "I think you're crazy."
"Well actually." A grin brightens her face. "That's why I married you."
Ahead of us, the ground rises into a hill. Beyond the hill, the sun sets, igniting the sky with color.
Smoke rises above the hill, drifting into the evening sky.
The crescent moon glows, unusually large, unusually bright.
Her smile fades. "I don't feel so good."
"You don't mean–"
"I haven't been feeling right for the past few days."
My eyes grow wide. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to upset you."
"What do you mean?" I say. "It's not time yet. The doctor said you had at least five more months."
"I know," she says, "But–"
"Five months. At least."
She says, "I love you so much."
I look around helplessly. "No. It's not time. I'm not ready."
"I love you, but–" She lets go of my hand. "I want you to find someone else."
My hand grows cold. "Why are you saying this?"
"I want you to keep living your life." A tear rolls down her cheek. "I want you to still be happy."
"No," I say. "No, no. I won't leave you."
She shakes her head. "I'm sorry."
Thunder rumbles in the distance.
"I would give all my money," I say. "My job, everything – just to let you live. I would even–"
My words are cut short as she steps close to me. Her eyes close. Her eyes, her lips, she kisses me.
We stand in the field, embracing, kissing, as the storm draws closer.
Death, stay away from her.
Ahead of us, above the hill, smoke continues to rise. A steady strand of smoke, rising in front of the sinking sun.
I stand holding her, hugging her.
The crescent moon disappears behind clouds – storm clouds. The wind blows against us. Lightning flashes.
"Hey," she says. "Thanks for coming out here with me."
Thunder softly rumbles.
I nod my head. Turning my eyes, I notice something. "What is that?"
Above the hill, smoke rises. Smoke billows, spiraling in front of the fading sunset.
She turns her head. "The smoke? Something's burning, probably."
Light flickers behind us. It is lightning.
My arms drop to my side. "We should head back."
"No," she says. "I want to see what's beyond that hill."
I look at her, and then at the smoke. "Alright. We'll see what's over the hill, but then we'll leave."
We begin walking, approaching the grassy hill. I reach out and hold her hand.
Death, stay away.
Her hand feels warm in mine. I look over at her, at my love.
The tall grass rustles in the wind.
I love her so much. I would do anything to save her.
The sunset disappears. Gone. Extinguished.
I would do anything.
The smell of smoke stings my lungs.
Anything.
Reaching the hill, we begin to climb, to ascend through the thick grass. Wisps of smoke drift past us.
My love, she coughs, her face turning red, her back bending downward.
"You alright?"
She nods, but keeps coughing.
Storm clouds cover the sky. The tall grass rustles, swishing and whispering in the wind.
We keep moving.
Lightning. Thunder. Rain begins to fall.
We reach the top. "Here we are," I say.
I squint to see through the smoke, to see the other side of the hill. I see fire. I see something large, something burning.
My love, she hugs me.
The wind blows. The smoke clears.
I wrap my arms around her, holding her. I say, "Is that a tree?"
A willow tree moves its branches, its twisted and gnarled and bent branches. The crooked tree is burning, blazing, with smoke soaring from the flame. The tree waves its limbs, as if it is a living creature, a living monster, in pain.
The smoke stings, sears my lungs.
Beneath the tree is a person, wearing dress clothes. He is dressed up, as if for a wedding.
Or for a funeral.
He walks towards us, approaching us.
My love, her hands tremble. Her face turns white.
Looking at her, my eyes grow wide. "Oh my God, no."
She falls from my arms into the grassy ground.
"No, no, no." I slide to the ground with her. "Don't die, don't die."
She is shaking, trembling. Her eyes look into mine. Her mouth opens, as if to speak, but no words come out. She shakes her head. A tear trickles down her cheek.
Death, I hate you.
"Do you want to save her?"
I turn to see the man, dressed as if for a wedding. Smiling kindly, his perfect face seems to be glowing.
"I can save her for you."
"Please. How?" I say. "She's dying."
His eyes look at her, my love dying on the ground. "We should hurry," he says. "Help me bring her under the willow tree."
The burning willow tree.
I would do anything to save her.
I bend down to pick her up.
I would do anything.
Half-carrying, half-dragging, I bring her down the hill toward the willow tree.
I would do anything.
The burning willow tree.
Anything.
Lightning. Thunder. Storm clouds swirl above us. Rain falls from the sky.
We reach the willow tree, the blazing, burning tree, waving its branches in pain.
The man points to the ground. "Set her down here."
Half-carrying, half-dragging, I bring her under the tree and set her down.
He bends down on his knees. He leans over her, and moves his hands across her face, across her body.
The clouds swirl and churn above us. The rain begins to pour. Falling at a slant around us.
Death, show mercy.
The willow tree continues to burn, continues to blaze. It waves its branches in the wind.
The man bends over her, his back bent. "It will take power to save her." He raises his head to the sky. Rain falls down his face. "Great power."
Lightning seems to split the sky apart, followed by a burst of thunder.
The man looks at me. "I will save her for you," he says, "But under one condition."
The willow tree crackles above us.
I walk toward him. "I will do anything you ask." I also bend over her. "I love her."
Rain soaks her hair. Her eyes close.
"Save her," I say. "Please."
"Move." The man pushes me aside. "One day I will ask a favor from you. When that day comes, you will have no choice but to do as I tell you."
"What kind of favor?"
The man's eyes look into mine. He seems worried. "I don't know yet. But if you promise to do this for me, I will prevent this girl from dying."
"Save her," I say. "I promise."
He nods. "You might want to back up. Stay under the the willow tree."
The burning willow tree.
I do as he says, getting up, stepping back.
"Great power." The man looks upward. Water runs down his face. He raises one arm above him, and the other arm he places on her, on my love.
A flash of light. A lightning bolt. Lightning jolts through the sky, through the air, through the man's arm.
White light. I cannot see in that instant.
Thunder erupts. The ground shakes beneath me. A screech fills the air. A screech, coming from the willow tree. The crackling, burning, blazing willow tree.
The light is gone. The lightning has surged through the man, through my love, but they remain unharmed.
I blink my eyes, not believing what I see.
The man, bending over, sprouts wings on his back. Enormous, glowing, white wings. He moves his wings, slowly, moving the air and creating a deep sound.
My love, she is breathing. Her eyes are open. She looks at me. "What happened?"
I just look at her, speechless.
I move my eyes and look at the man, the man with wings on his back.
"She will not die now." The man stretches his wings, his glowing white wings. "Not for a long time."
My heart pounds within my chest. "Who are you?"
"If you believe in the supernatural." The man flaps his wings. "I would tell you I am an angel. In a way, I am."
My love, she looks up at him. "An angel?"
The man nods. "I guess you could say that." The man with wings looks at me. "Do you believe in death?"
I just stare at him, bewildered.
The storm clouds churn, they spiral, they swirl above us. Rain blows around us, seeming to create a wall of rain.
"Because," he says, "I am a specific kind of angel."
The tree crackles above us, illuminating the darkness, giving off a red glow.
He smiles. "An angel of death."
Lightning flashes. Shadows flicker around us. The willow tree waves its burning branches, and lets off a sharp scream.
The shriek resonates through the night.
The wall of rain surrounds us, churning around us. Water spirals from the sky, spinning around us.
The tree continues to burn.
The man stretches his wings, his glowing, white wings. "I am Death." He smiles kindly. "The day will come when you must do a service for me."
A service for Death.
The rain pours around us. The tree becomes soaked, but continues to burn. Fire flickers, curling around its branches.
My love, she sits up.
With my eyes on the angel, I slowly move toward her, toward my love.
The wind howls around us. Lightning flashes.
The man, the angel of death, nods his head. "Nice doing business with you." He flexes his wings, as if to fly away.
The rain soaks into the flaming tree, soaking the wood. The fire goes out, hissing as smoke rises. Extinguished.
Darkness surrounds us. All around us, the rain pours. The willow tree stops moving.
I hear Death's voice. "You will recognize me when I return." I hear his wings move, pushing through the air. His voice grows fainter. "Soon the day will come."
A service for Death.
My love, I feel her wet arms wrap around me, embracing me.
The rain roars around us.
I blink my eyes, but cannot see in the darkness of the storm.
Death, I hate you so much.
My heart sinks, falling within my chest.
A service for Death.
All hope dies within me.
Extinguished.
If you have a horror story on YWS, feel free to PM me.
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on the down side: I think you might have repeated words a little too much. and it seemed to be repetitive. But there was also good repetition, like the repetition of the man saying

I love her so much. I would do anything to save her.

The sunset disappears. Gone. Extinguished.

I would do anything.

The smell of smoke stings my lungs.

Anything.


I think the second "I would do anything" in italics could be removed and it would still have the same effect, if not more. like this:

I love her so much. I would do anything to save her.

The sunset disappears. Gone. Extinguished.

The smell of smoke stings my lungs.

Anything.

It cuts out the too much repetition. yet still leaves the emphasis. He'll do anything.


plus side: This is my second time reading your work and can see that you deal with death a lot. Quiet and dark stories tend to be the most "wowing" to me. You give a great example of foreshadowing when the man under the tree is introduced:

Beneath the tree is a person, wearing dress clothes. He is dressed up, as if for a wedding.

Or for a funeral."


perfect foreshadow, as soon as i read the italicized part i thought. "oh no". My thoughts of a helpless man under a burning tree quickly turned to dread of him being death himself, and was then reassured when the woman falls over. but when the man offered to help

The man's eyes look into mine. He seems worried. "I don't know yet. But if you promise to do this for me, I will prevent this girl from dying."


the worried look in his eye made me think that perhaps he wasn't the angel of death but perhaps some other sort of helper/supernatural.

and when he saved the woman and angel wings grew, i thought that maybe he wasn't the angel of death but perhaps another type of angel. but then this part comes:

"Because," he says, "I am a specific kind of angel."


and I am quickly back to the dreadful notion that he is indeed death and wants something in return.

Your story took me on a roller coaster ride. Thanks. ;)




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Very nice piece of literature. Over all I very much liked it.

When it comes to grammar and such I'd run through it one more time to make sure you, or I, didn't miss anything. I felt a lot of things were repetitive and contradicting. You take about the sun set and moon a lot back to back. It gets a little confusing, but the affect was good.

When it came to the romance it was done well. The man and the woman were well defined and their nature was well played out. Nice job. The Angel however is a little different. He's hard to read, which is fine, but I also had a problem with his speech. At times it was right on the money, but other times it felt choppy and random. I'd go over his lines again and see how they sound to you.

In the long run I felt it was a bit vague, but the feeling of the piece is good which helps to balance it out. In my opinion I'd run over it again to patch things up one last time and you'd have an excellent piece of writing.

~Tony
I will always fight back, no matter what.




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Thank you, both of you, for the comments.

Yeah, I did overdo the repetition in some parts.

Hmm... the speech probably could be improved.

Any more comments? Overall, I feel this piece could use some more work.
If you have a horror story on YWS, feel free to PM me.
If you would like me to critique it, say so.




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I'm actually surprised at how much we write alike.

I swear to you that I wrote this two years ago, when I was 16 (it's quite obvious that this is old work of mine, as it is poorly written):

“Stars are still out.” I told Daniel, as I noticed the Southern Cross. I could still see the stars despite the sun coming up. The sky was a purplish-pink colour, quite beautiful.
“Aye,” Daniel said softly, as he swam closer. “The brightest star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, grant the wish I wish tonight.”
“And what is your wish, Daniel?” I teased.
“Do you know naught? If I tell you, it won’t come true.” He replied.
“Is it such a wish that you want it to badly come true?” I asked, rolling over, so now I was floating on my stomach.
“Aye,” There was a long pause, “Aye that it is.”
“Wanna know something interesting?”
“Go on.”
“Light travels extremely fast – around 30 000 km per second. Just imagine; some of the stars we’re looking at now might not even exist, it might’ve died hundreds, thousands, millions of years ago. I mean, see that bright star over there, if it was 4 light years away, and light travels 30 000 km p/sec; how many seconds in a day? Times that by the 365 days in the year. Then times that by 30 000 km p/sec, then times that by the 4 light years and you get 63 072 000 000 km – and that is how far away the star is! Amazing huh?” I said breathlessly.

-----------

And this:

She lay under the rose bushes she had watered every single day, grew from scratch, it was almost ironic. Rose petals lay scattered all over her body, they gradually soaked her blood. Raven cried silently, the tears rolling down her cheek.
She lay there, watching her insane attacker dance away, his laughter trailing behind him, sword flashing in the moonlight. Luc the village Healer of Tide Swept the hidden rebel town, of which this town it’s twin, stole away into the night, intending to go home to his son, and his new pet, the redheaded child. Tonight’s fun had drained him, and he was looking forward to Daniel’s stew. Daniel, his son. . . . He was a good boy. Luc frowned as he wondered what his master was going to do with the girl. The pretty, little lass with blood-red hair.
The moonlight . . . . It had been such a peacefully beautiful night, before all of this. She could only move her arms; her four strong horse legs wouldn’t budge. This is what happens when a centaur falls over, she can’t get back up. She let loose a wild giggle that seared through her chest and straight into her brain.
Raven knew she only had a few seconds to live, he had pierced her right lung, it was fatal, the blood would fill up the lung, and stop her breathing, she was somewhat of a healer after all, not as good as Luc, but she was skilled.
What is someone doing with a sword in the middle of the night, in my backyard?
She closed her eyes and took a shallow breath, just as she was told if a situation like this ever occurred, who’d ever thought it would? A searing pain shot though her chest and she moaned in agony, “. . . . somebody help, I need Luc, or his son to heal me. . . . LILLIAN . . . . anybody even . . . . I’ll do anything . . . .” A bright flash suddenly blinded her.
Tried to cover her eyes.
“I will spare your life, but in return you will do everything I say? Do my every whim? Agreed?” A heavenly sweet voice called, the sound of a flute, the clarity of crystal. The voice was beautiful, musical.
“I a-ar-arr-greeeeh.” She cried with the last of her strength, uncaring as long as she could stay alive, as long as she could see her baby again, her darling baby, Lillian.
“Done.” The voice said unceremoniously, as Raven’s lifeblood ebbed away,
”Now listen carefully,” The figure whispered, as it kneeled down to heal Raven, “I have a plan, a very clever little plan. And it involves Daniel and Jordan, the chosen, destined ones. And you’re the one who’s gonna make it work.” The figure, a woman, with black as midnight hair, and icy blue eyes stood up, clapped her hands once, and then everything glared white.

-----------------------

I guess novice writers all share the same ideas at one point of their writing.

Sorry about the harsh critique earlier.

Maybe you should try your hand at writing in past tense.

- Jai
I have an approximate knowledge of many things.




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I really liked it! It had some sort of rythym to it It was like drums beating at every stanza. The portraying the angel was very well done in my opinion. The part where they hug was really sweet too. I've never seen this style of writing before It's very rhythmatic I loved it. is it some sort of poem? Sorry for my ignorance^^ well loved it anyway!
Life is bliss.
I enjoy it.
I live in it.
What more can I ask?




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This is going to sound stupid but it made me cry, it is a really moving piece of work, very good and unique - you should continue with it cos i really want to know what he has to do... Ha ha i'm going to keep thinking about it now x
Megan Travis = SivartNagem=P
Meggymoo42@hotmail.co.uk
xxx



Be happy, my friend; and if you obey me in this one request, remain satisfied that nothing on earth will have the power to interrupt my tranquility.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein