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I've always had a sort of sequence set up around a world's fall into plague and madness that seems to charictarize the 41st millenium, and have hoped to elaborate on my thoughts upon the matter, hopefully connecting a series of short stories that end up scribbled in the margins of my notes into one semi-cohesive story.
Please Enjoy! (any feedback is welcome)
Not long before the arrival, the birds stopped singing. Their usual burbling laughter and quick conversation died away into the air, leaving the rustling of the trees alone in chorus. The crickets and other insects soon fell silent as well, the assorted chirps and rustlings trailed off into nothing. Spreading like a fire, the countryside fell under the spell of the quiet. Nobody in Messina noticed the silence radiating from their surroundings, but soon, others took heed. The dogs stopped barking, choosing instead to slink away into their homes and hiding places, away from the quiet. The pigs in the market stopped their snorting, and one by one, they too were still. All across the village, chickens ceased to squabble, and instead waited pensively. The horses and cows fell silent, picking up their ears and waiting to catch a glimmer of a distant sound, drawing nearer with every step. Only then did the people notice.
The creeping suspicion of something ominous approaching filled up the still air, and was inhaled by Messina. One by one, the people all stopped to listen. The disheartened populace turned their ears to the deafening lack of noise. Tradesmen set down their tools softly, not knowing why. Street venders hawking their wares ceased to yell, peering into the silence for what was not yet there. Hard-eyed merchants fell silent, trailing off in mid-sale, forgetting their customers and their goods. Suspicious wives stopped calling after husbands, and weary mothers broke off lectures to now mute children. An infant cried out for attention, but soon it too was quiet. One by one, they all stopped to listen. Messina was now as silent as the grave.
With a cruel inevitability, the silence was broken. The flat ring of the bell echoed softly as it died among the houses of the village, adding the only mournful note of sound to the foreboding silence that engulfed what seemed all of existence. Each step closer calling forth the secluded peal of the brass herald at the rosary around his neck. Another step forward and another tolling of the bell, drawing ever closer. With each muted clatter, the air grew quieter, each ring adding to the tapestry of silence engulfing Messina like a death shroud. He had come.
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" -KingCracker
