Young Writers Society

The dull, warm glow from the bronze braziers hit the surface of the grand marble hall with a soft illumination, glassing across the long array of white tile. The low rumble from the clouds on which the heavenly floor sat echoed quietly throughout the great hall, its marvellous roof rising higher than that of any earthly cathedral. Down the long walk of a thousand columns the hall eventually broke off into a colossal atrium with a spectacular view of the green land below and the black heavens above, in between gleaming pillars furnished with gold. It was indeed quite a beautiful place, not only boasting an unparalleled view and flawless architecture, but also the unending amount of prized relics strewn about the floor definitely added to the effect. To the left laid a magnificent Hittite chariot on its side, its bronze plates reflecting a glimmer of light from the burning coals. Leaning against one of the pillars on the right of the room was a goliath Ottoman artillery piece, once sieging Vienna, now reclining against the wall uselessly. Other tossed aside treasures surmounted in the middle, bejewelled chalices, adorned sculptures, skillfully made weaponry all laid on a sparkling bed of wealth of thousands of coins from across the earth. A more recent addition to this horde was a mammoth artillery gun, its silent muzzle pointing out to the clouds, waiting for some target to appear. At the centre of the room, however, was likely the greatest sight of all, as at the room’s epicentre a tall, bearded man sat on a gargantuan marble throne. With a flowing white beard and shining toga he was quite a regal-looking figure, in every manner save his stance. Almost like a piece of cloth he draped himself over the royal seat, with sandalled feet propped up on one armrest and white hair falling over there other. For such a surrounding his stance might have been relatively hard to point reason on, but at the time it was the unexpected feeling of boredom which plagued him. He had fiddled numerous times with each relic brought to him, marvelled for mere moments at the abundance of riches which splashed onto the floor like a gold puddle, and for a few seconds waved around each sword and spear brought to him. He even fired off the giant artillery gun once or twice, which he unarguably got the most kick out of. But now he was bored, and could only stare at the all-encompassing view which he saw every day and too, was sick of.

“Gabriel,” The man sluggishly murmured as it echoed through the crackle of the fire. Not a moment later did a small figure push open the large oak doors miles away and begin trotting towards the throne. But to the man he was not going fast enough “G-Gabriel.” He shouted even longer through speech slurred with boredom again, and now the man advanced at a quick jog.That was more like it. “Yes, my Lord?” Gabriel asked, almost as if knowing it were rhetorical.

“I’m bored Gabriel,”

“I know, my Lord.” Gabriel said with a sigh.

The man looked around at all his possessions. “I need something new.” He announced.

“But my lord, you just got that cannon yesterday.” Gabriel nodded in the direction of the giant gun

“Ah, yes that was a blast! Where’d it land again?”

“Nagasaki, my Lord.”

“Right, that was it! Anyway I need something new, not another thing like that, though. Just something small, you know? Like one of those things, a play-erhhm, or a thing that’s like-umm blast, what are they call-?”

“A Plaything, my Lord?” Gabriel asked with an eyebrow raised.

“So that’s what it’s called nowadays! Yes, go fetch me something small like that.” He now sat upright in his seat, having been very pleased with his decree. “Very well, my Lord.” Said Gabriel through a sigh as he strode back down the hall.

Captain Myers glanced out across the raging ocean with a frightful grimace. He nor any other sailor had expected such a storm to form so spontaneously, its surprising appearance likely shocking those on the coast as well. Myers stared out at the enlarging storm and then opposite to the calm sea even farther away, continually moving out of sight. The rain began to pick up to a heavy degree, and thunder cackled above, like a villainous laugh.

“Cyclone!” Cried one of the men from the deck with the point of a shaky finger. Behind the captain in the barely-seeable distance was a growing, swirling white mass, which men with above-average eyesight like Myers would be able to perceive as a wild, twisting column of wind and water. Myers quickly grabbed hold of the wheel, and needed not issue a single order to the men to turn back at full speed. In the chaotic struggle of the pitiful crew, it had not yet passed in any of their minds that their small vessel could outrun such godly wrath. But before the vessel could even be jostled by the oncoming waves, the fury in the water died and the cyclone ceased its advance, standing perfectly still in the air as darkness covered the ocean surface. The clouds went still, the waters decreased their movement to nothing but the ripples of the boat, and the cyclone spun violently but did not dare stir the waves. Everything was silent, serene and scarily austere, with nothing but the flat sea, quiet storm clouds and unmoving cyclone, which should have swallowed them up by now.

“By God, look at that!” Came another crewman, pointing in the darkness to the sky, for from the great black storm above came eerie black tendrils of snaking cloud. Like the hand of some great alien entity, they slowly twisted their way at odd angles towards the surface of the water, almost as if looking for something to pick up. Myers watched, his horridly bewildered expression hidden in darkness. “What in bloody Abbadon…?”

Before he could finish, the tendrils had made their way to the water, and as they sank deep into the sea plumes of water shot out and the entire ocean converged on itself, swallowing the boat, cyclone and all with it. The captain and his crew had little time to witness the horrific spectacle before the blanket of darkness looming over the sky crashed down onto the waves, sending both the noble vessel and her crew thrashing beneath the waves. Trapped with the wrath of the cyclone, the boat and its human contents were violently flung from side to side of the watery abyss. Captain Myers soon saw nothing except darkness while floating in the deathly palm of the black hand, and his eyes did not need to close to see the same thing while drifting lifelessly in the hand of death.

Only an hour after his departure, Gabriel returned to the shining throne room, and the white-robed man eagerly got up from his lounging position once more. “Gabriel!” He exclaimed. “You’re back, finally.”

“Indeed, my Lord,” He said as he reached the throne. “I have acquired your…plaything.” He held up a small vial.

“Bring it here, let me see.” The man took the vial and held the glass to his eye. Inside it was filled with water and in the middle was a small, cloudy pillar. Shaking it the small cloud suddenly came to life, churning the water along with some odd small particles around and around in the glass case. He chuckled at the little trick, and shook it a couple more times. After its entertainment value had left him, he casually tossed it onto a nearby pile of riches, on which it promptly broke, with its minuscule contents spilling onto the floor.

“That was fun, nice one Gabriel. Oh!” Suddenly the man's eyes brightened and he held up a finger with a new ingenious idea. “That reminds me of something. You know those things people have, it’s like a ball but there is a city inside, you can shake it and there’s like a storm-”

“A snow globe, my Lord?”

“Yes that’s the thing. Fetch me one of those.”

“Yes, my Lord.”