Tonight the world would end.
And Lazel refused to see it end in misery. She had been alive too long and her body had wearied of the constant wars. On the news an old woman had been butchered in her home for less money then it took to take a taxi two streets over. Seventeen people - half children - had killed themselves in the belief the Mayan prophecy was real.
December 21st 2012.
Lazel wondered if the world would be a better place devoid of life. It would retain it's beauty with no coming nuclear strikes to taint it or boil away it's seas. It felt good to come out of hiding she supposed as she headed to the hospital, her nostrils reeked of bleach but at least she could breath.
Her true form contained in this sweaty flesh had been ripping at it's restraints for some time now. She told the guards they could not see her and like sweet children they sat down and drank their coffee as she crept into the ward and told the cameras to sleep.
Mother would not mind she supposed as she held the children and told their cancers to die. If tonight was going to be the last then she could take on the chin the shouts and screams they would lay on her.
Do you know what keeping under cover means? A low profile. Do you know what they would do to you if they found out what you really are?
But there was no tomorrow, for two hundred years she had wanted to spread her wings. She stretched the muscles in her back and her shoulder blades ached dully as they extended into Swans wings. The wall was in her way and the children woke up as it turned to water. Outside people were screaming and she made the bells toll in the churches to cover it.
The streets were dirty, she was used to better so thought of gold and watched the chewing gum stained tarmac turn yellow in the moonlight. People drew away from her in fright and in her head she held one thought. Have fun.
The weight of death was upon them. Before even she was born, the Mayans had seen their deaths and if she was to go, why not be at peace. She walked on as the people started dancing, Dogs snarled at her distrustfully and she turned trees into Tyrannosaurus Rex sized bones. The police helicopters spot light in the sky was hurting her eyes, she did not put her hand down from her face till it fired only sweets toward the street which children leaped upon like Lions on wounded Antelope.
In the distance the clock which she commanded have a smiling face read five minutes to midnight.
Nearly time to die.
She told every body dance, to have fun.
The men with guns dropped into a combat stance and she told them to go to the nearest bar for a drink. The manager was giving them away free. A fact even he didn't know till she told him.
The streets had stopped their screaming. It was filled with lights as clowns juggled balloons, children skipped and the air smelled of fresh pop corn. Money would not help men in the next life, Lazel told the hot dog sellers to empty their trays. The bun tasted good. A final meal to go out on.
Suddenly she heard counting.
"Ten, nine, eight-"
A football chant like a winning team cussing the losers. Lazel turned to the clock.
Five seconds.
Those in love kiss each other she said, think of good things.
Everyone seemed happy. There was no fear of coming death. No belief of monsters waiting to leap out and grab them in the night. Laze took a final bite of her hot dog.
It had been a good life.
The bell tolled, the hour came.
Lazel did not know she was holding her breath till her lungs ached and the last of it whooshed out of her in a loud desperate gasp. In her long history the world had been predicted to end many times. But the Mayans were an ancient and strong race. They were better then Nostradamus. They couldn't be wrong. Could they?
People seemed to register her confusion, snap awake from the party atmosphere she had installed in them to enjoy their final moments. The effects dried up and the party died. In the bar the manager screamed, mopping up the last drops of beer from the beer, anything he could drain back into the barrels to save money.
Every one seemed to be watching her as Lazel watched the clock.
Was it broke?
"Why isn't everyone dead?" she asked, looking now to the sky. Where was the comet come to knock them into the sun. The nuclear war. The fish that was set to take over the planet?
"I think I might have been a bit premature-" she started, flinched as something exploded in the sky like a lightning bolt and she felt a strange mix of fear and elation. The comet at last. At least the Mayans had been right, a little off with their predictions but-
Oh, oh.
It was no comet. It was a man and a woman with wings.
They did not look pleased as they landed, leaving tiny craters in the tarmac.
Colour rushing to her face, Lazel raised a limp hand in greeting. "Hi, Mom. I'm in trouble aren't I."
And Lazel refused to see it end in misery. She had been alive too long and her body had wearied of the constant wars. On the news an old woman had been butchered in her home for less money then it took to take a taxi two streets over. Seventeen people - half children - had killed themselves in the belief the Mayan prophecy was real.
December 21st 2012.
Lazel wondered if the world would be a better place devoid of life. It would retain it's beauty with no coming nuclear strikes to taint it or boil away it's seas. It felt good to come out of hiding she supposed as she headed to the hospital, her nostrils reeked of bleach but at least she could breath.
Her true form contained in this sweaty flesh had been ripping at it's restraints for some time now. She told the guards they could not see her and like sweet children they sat down and drank their coffee as she crept into the ward and told the cameras to sleep.
Mother would not mind she supposed as she held the children and told their cancers to die. If tonight was going to be the last then she could take on the chin the shouts and screams they would lay on her.
Do you know what keeping under cover means? A low profile. Do you know what they would do to you if they found out what you really are?
But there was no tomorrow, for two hundred years she had wanted to spread her wings. She stretched the muscles in her back and her shoulder blades ached dully as they extended into Swans wings. The wall was in her way and the children woke up as it turned to water. Outside people were screaming and she made the bells toll in the churches to cover it.
The streets were dirty, she was used to better so thought of gold and watched the chewing gum stained tarmac turn yellow in the moonlight. People drew away from her in fright and in her head she held one thought. Have fun.
The weight of death was upon them. Before even she was born, the Mayans had seen their deaths and if she was to go, why not be at peace. She walked on as the people started dancing, Dogs snarled at her distrustfully and she turned trees into Tyrannosaurus Rex sized bones. The police helicopters spot light in the sky was hurting her eyes, she did not put her hand down from her face till it fired only sweets toward the street which children leaped upon like Lions on wounded Antelope.
In the distance the clock which she commanded have a smiling face read five minutes to midnight.
Nearly time to die.
She told every body dance, to have fun.
The men with guns dropped into a combat stance and she told them to go to the nearest bar for a drink. The manager was giving them away free. A fact even he didn't know till she told him.
The streets had stopped their screaming. It was filled with lights as clowns juggled balloons, children skipped and the air smelled of fresh pop corn. Money would not help men in the next life, Lazel told the hot dog sellers to empty their trays. The bun tasted good. A final meal to go out on.
Suddenly she heard counting.
"Ten, nine, eight-"
A football chant like a winning team cussing the losers. Lazel turned to the clock.
Five seconds.
Those in love kiss each other she said, think of good things.
Everyone seemed happy. There was no fear of coming death. No belief of monsters waiting to leap out and grab them in the night. Laze took a final bite of her hot dog.
It had been a good life.
The bell tolled, the hour came.
Lazel did not know she was holding her breath till her lungs ached and the last of it whooshed out of her in a loud desperate gasp. In her long history the world had been predicted to end many times. But the Mayans were an ancient and strong race. They were better then Nostradamus. They couldn't be wrong. Could they?
People seemed to register her confusion, snap awake from the party atmosphere she had installed in them to enjoy their final moments. The effects dried up and the party died. In the bar the manager screamed, mopping up the last drops of beer from the beer, anything he could drain back into the barrels to save money.
Every one seemed to be watching her as Lazel watched the clock.
Was it broke?
"Why isn't everyone dead?" she asked, looking now to the sky. Where was the comet come to knock them into the sun. The nuclear war. The fish that was set to take over the planet?
"I think I might have been a bit premature-" she started, flinched as something exploded in the sky like a lightning bolt and she felt a strange mix of fear and elation. The comet at last. At least the Mayans had been right, a little off with their predictions but-
Oh, oh.
It was no comet. It was a man and a woman with wings.
They did not look pleased as they landed, leaving tiny craters in the tarmac.
Colour rushing to her face, Lazel raised a limp hand in greeting. "Hi, Mom. I'm in trouble aren't I."
