The Breaking Storm

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The accursed wind shot through the night, making trees bow and houses shake as the Gates of Hell were slowly opened. Leaves torn from their branches were thrown to the void and the blackness of that which was fast approaching.

Rumbles of angry thunder sounded in the distance as the crusade against human souls commenced. Bolts of hateful lightening shot across the delicate sky, tearing it. The pain of the gashes was immense, and great tears fell to the ground. The wind doubled its intensity as the Gates continued to open.

Trees were stripped of their outer clothing, but they had more layers of protection against this unholy storm. Not all was as strong. Power lines snapped and bridges buckled; car alarms sounded, windows shook and shattered, and the screaming of frightened children was carried for miles upon the breaking waves of the horrid wind.

Evil eyes gleamed from the death-filled interior of that which lays beyond the opening Gates as they are opened completely. Fear pours out in great rushes like a river of blood into the veins of the world; most everything drowned: the strong trees standing firm against the onslaught, the delicate flowers being ripped apart, the green grass of belief overturned and uprooted. All was ravaged.

And then the storm began.

With the Gates now open and the blood pouring out, no chance was had to survive. Bolts of lightening split the trees and burned the grass, while the thunder shook the very foundations upon which all life is built.

This continued for three eternities, never ceasing. Death of mind was imminent.

And then without warning, a warm ray of sunlight shot from the heavens, burning the blackness that stood in its way; a faithful friend to a world long ravaged. The light warmed a small patch of earth, and the world was reminded of happiness.

The storm slowly broke, unable to retain itself under the breaking of its thick clouds by beams of joy. When the sky was cleared and the suns shone brightly, an empty and desolate ghost land of a world was revealed. Everything was broken; the trees still wept from their destruction.

The gaping hole of Hell stood open, as it would always, its doors shattered and gone. However, the blood had stopped and the empty void was all that was left.

Slowly, the plants began to re-grow. As new spring emerged, so did new trees of strength, more beautiful flowers of delicacy, and fresh grass of belief. The storm was gone and the world was reborn. But like all things unique, it was not the same as before--not even close.

The painful transformation now complete, the world now freed could heal over time. The warmth of the few remaining suns triumphed over the coldness of those that had died and had coldly drifted asunder. Through this warmth and light, peace, although temporary, was finally achieved.

And so this ravaged world walked forward into the world of worlds, basking in the sunlight as it had not done in three eternities.