The Lightning With No Thunder

350px-Albert_Bierstadt_-_A_Storm_in_the_Rocky_Mountains,_Mt._Rosalie_-_Google_Art_Project

It starts with the first drop of rain. A light sprinkle wets the dirt and trees, and soon that small pitter-patter of the rain slowly grows louder.

And louder.

It pelts the rooftops hard and beats upon the windows with anger until it fills your ears with sound. It bounces off the concrete and soaks through the grass as if it were at war with the world.

And then you see it. The bright piercing flash that spears the ground in triumph. The power of the Gods. The sword of Mother Earth.

Lightning.

The sun refuses to show its fearful face and the lurking, grey clouds engulf the mountains. It’s dull disease poisons the entire sky with darkness. And the lightning hits again.

You anticipate the clap of thunder to follow. But it doesn’t.

The rain dies down to a small drip, drip, drip, and then everything becomes silent- deathly silent. And the streak of electric spark returns to light up the darkened sky.

And still, there is no thunder.

The realization hits you hard, and your heart begins to beat. It can’t be. It can’t be what you think it is.

Your head whips towards the burst of white light hitting the mountain. The only sound in the tense air is the rain starting to fall again.

The small droplets of rain hit your numb face. You can’t feel anything, not when you are so very afraid.

Not afraid of the powerful lightning striking from the sky, but of the absence of its thunder.

There was only one explanation.

You turn towards the mysterious mountains. You can barely see the outlines of the ridged peaks through the eerie fog. You know what the stories say about the mountains. And the thunder.

Lightning hits the earth again, and again. No thunder.

The rain picks up, harder and harder. You cover your ears and close your eyes. But then you hear it. The screech of the dead, a cry of the awoken.

You open your eyes. Was it just the rain? It had to be the rain.

You reassure yourself. It’s just a storm. But you know the storm isn’t the only thing that’s out there… beyond the mountains.

The white bursts light up the entire sky, each bolt getting closer and closer to the mountain.

No thunder.

Then you see it. Your body turns cold and your bones shake in pure terror.

As the lightning hits the mountain and lights up the dark sky, you see one thing.

A shadow; dark and fearful. A shadow of the creature below.

 

In the midst of a storm so eerie and silent.

Lies a creature in hiding, so evil and violent.

It stays in stasis, in the mountains down under

Until he feels the call of lightning with no thunder

The one thing you’d want from a creature so forsaken

Is to hope for your life… that it doesn’t awaken.

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