Young Writers Society

“Run!" A man appeared beside her, shouting at her to escape. He pushed her forwards in one frantic motion and then disappeared. Annabelle shook the surprise from her face and ran, suddenly feeling an uncomfortably warm gust of air brush past her.

She went as fast as her short dwarfish legs would carry her. She hurried out of the gigantic furnace hall, dodging masses of panicking dwarves and the hundreds of pillars which prevented the roof from collapsing. She entered the cave system and navigated as quickly as she could through the tunnels which were quickly turning black with smoke. After a lot of coughing and pushing past others, she emerged from the mountain.

The sky was completely grey, not a speck of blue in sight. The whole world seemed to be shrouded in an infinite dark cloud which was expanding every second. Annabelle looked up at the top of the mountain she’d just come from, sparks were shooting up into the sky and ash rained down on the dwarves’ village which was nestled at the base of the mountain. She stared at her home, worried for her family and friends down below.

The man who had told Annabelle to run appeared at the cave’s entrance with about twenty miners following him. His face had turned completely black, as if he’d fallen into a cart full of coal. That was a common accident in the forge, so perhaps he had. She looked at him for some guidance and let out a yelp when he extended his arms towards her and pushed her onto the ground.

Annabelle found herself tumbling down the mountain head over heels. Down she rolled, getting closer and closer to the bottom. She winced every time her bare skin touched a warm rock from the mountain. Annabelle's vision darkened for a second as she rolled through a cloud of black smoke, then she hit a hay bale with a loud thud. 

She sat up and rubbed her now swollen knees. Dwarves were running in all directions in a mass panic as the ash continued raining down on the village. It now covered the ground like a thin layer of dirty snow.

Annabelle jerked her head to the right when a woman shouted, “The furnaces have overheated! We’re all doomed!” Annabelle didn’t understand how a furnace could overheat, but it was obvious that something disastrous had happened to them. She heard the mountain forge rumble and grumble like a hungry giant as the sparks flew and ash rained. She tried to count the small boulders which flew out of the forge, but it was like counting the stars.

Annabelle spotted the strange man again; he was now climbing onto a roof top. He waved his hands in a frenzy, shouting, “Listen! Listen!” No one listened though, because the whole population of the city of Pompeii continued to run around like headless chickens. Annabelle, however, surried through the crowds and dodged falling debris until she was infront of the building he had stationed himself on.

“Listen!” He shouted again and this time he thrust out his hand and bright white sparks shot out of them. All the dwarves in the village found their bodies instantly jerk to a stop, they became frozen as if a spell had been cast on them. Annabelle relaxed just a little bit when that calm had suddenly settled over everyone, she and her fellow dwarves all stared at the man as if awaiting further commands.

“Thank you for your attention,” He began, looking at each dwarf one at a time, “I am a wizard from the court of the good King of the realm, Vulcan. You, the dwarves of Pompeii, have failed in paying your taxes on time.” He waved his hands for extra effect. “Now you are being punished. Vulcan has caused your mountain forge to spit fire like a dragon. Your village will be engulfed in lava and ash.”

The spell the man had cast lost its effect and the many citizens once again ran around in a frenzy, screaming for their loved ones and begging for mercy which would not be given. Annabelle, just a young girl, fell to her knees and cried. She knew that the adults in her village did not want to give their coins to the king, but she didn't understand why she had to be punished.

“But!” The man continued, “I have been allowed to give you one last chance. I shall freeze you all in a stasis, and only when the taxes are repaid shall life return to your bodies.”

The mountain bellowed again, much louder and deeper than before. Annabelle put her hand to her mouth as large clumps of rock burst from the top of the mountain and they began catapulting towards the village. The crashed onto buildings like asteroids, making homes and temples crumble into unrecognisable ruins. Ash and more fiery sparks followed the rocks and then something even more terrible came to be. Annabelle's eyes widened as lava oozed from the mountain, bright orange lava, like the colour of the sun when it rose in the morning. Vulcan had truly punished her kind.

Her vision began to blur, the ash not only making the sky grey but also the air around her. Before her vision blacked out completely, she saw the man waving his hands. His mouth moved like he was muttering a spell. She saw ash gather around the dwarves of Pompeii, becoming a blanket on their skin. She felt ash covering her own skin and she felt her lungs beg for air. The dwarves were no longer dwarves; they were now statues of ash. Annabelle said one last silent prayer to her gods, begging for mercy, then she saw her village turn to ruin and she too became a statue and frozen in time.

As the realm of Vulcan fell and its history became a myth, no one ever repaid the taxes. Even today, the dwarves of Pompeii stand as statues, waiting to be saved.