Wings of Fire

wrote this a whie ago, thought i'd get opinions on it

They began to move up just at dusk, and by the time night fell and the first flares became visible everything began. The bitterly cold wind howled across the ice caps. Snow once again began to fall as it had done yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that ... ever since the great Disaster.

A figure stood at the outpost and stared out over the glaciers moving in the bay. His furs barely protecting him from the breeze which now blew from the East. Across the bay stood the ruins of the once great city. No humans ever went there now; the animals had taken it over. Nobody knew why the animals began to fight back following the Disaster. They were ruthless: killing millions across the globe.

The figure looked back at Salvation; one of the last villages dominated by Man. It was primitive compared to what his grandfather had once known: it had a church (which was pointless, seeing as how not many people believed in God), a hospital and a barracks. The figure watched as the soldiers prepared for the approaching battle.

His attention was caught by their battle cry. The figure watched as their soldiers marched up the valley; their battle armor glaring in the sun. Countless multitudes began banging their broadswords against their battle shields. He could see their snouts sticking out from their helmets. They were getting close to Salvation.

It was Mankind's fault that these creatures had become this way. If Doctor Logan hadn't found a way of splicing the genes of humans with polar bears, none of this would have happened. Admitted Doctor Logan had no way of telling that this would have happened, but he should never have played God.

Doctor Logan began his experiments after the realization that Mankind could not survive this "ice age" for much longer. His first hybrids died within a month of being "born". He managed to create 2 hybrids, a male and a female. Dr. Logan named them Secour and Lavya. Something went wrong; Secour, the dominant male, killed Dr. Logan and everyone else in the Compound. It was in the previous months that the animals began fighting back. Secour and Lavya escaped the Compound and began creating the army, which was now attacking Salvation.

They were bred for fighting and nothing else; ruthless killers void of sympathy. Their hands could crush a child’s head. Secour and Lavya's offspring had strength that was unrivaled by any living thing. The villages of Habitat, Hope and Freedom fell in the first months of the War. Tens of thousands were killed in cold blood. It should be remembered that, following the Disaster, the population of the world was a fraction of what it used to be. Man was quickly becoming an endangered species.

"Come in, Come in ..." called a voice over the radio. It was barely audible through the interference, "Sanctuary to Salvation. Come in please..."

The man said nothing and listened.

"If anyone is listening, please reply. Sanctuary is under attack. They've killed most of us... I-I-I don't know how long we can hold on… It’s looking bad…"

Their growling could be heard in the background.

"They're close… Please we need help ... please help us..."

The voice grew silent and then:

"No please no! Don't kill me… Please have mercy! I'm begging you! No! No! No...!"

The voice screamed and died. The silence was replaced by interference. The man reached forward and switched the radio off. He had developed a hatred for his own kind.

As the breeze blew against his face it carried a far off scream. Something stirred in the depths of his sub-conscious; a memory. It was vague at first but it cleared and became more precise. He heard a call behind him. He turned. Standing before him was a man; he recognized him yet it did not hit him yet.

"Dad?"

The man looked at his hands, they were that of a child’s. His father was struggling with someone. There was a flash of steel, and his father fell to the ground. The woman's hands were covered with blood. His blood. She whipped them on her jacket, leant down beside his father, checked through his pockets and ran off. It was then that his hatred had first shown itself. As he watched his fathers blood drain away into a golden pool. All because of the food he had in his pocket.

Salvation was now the last stronghold of Man. He looked over it. Pathetic, he thought to himself. Maybe it was best if Man did become extinct. It was Man's own fault that the Disaster happened. With each day that passed this hatred increased. From his outpost he could see the world for what it really was, the vile creatures that for centuries waged war against each other. Now someone else was waging war against them, and they have lost. The battle was lost long before it had started. It was their weakness that had sealed their fate.

Fate...That thought made him laugh. That all-powerful force that has existed since before his kind first stepped on the land. Destiny... Prophecy...

They all mean the same thing. They all lead back to the same eventual conclusion; Death. His kind always believed that Death was not the end, merely the beginning; the Afterlife, Heaven- every culture had different names for it. The man hated this thought. The thought that his kind will carry on after Death nauseated him. They had a prophecy long before his time, long before his grandfather's time:

"The End of Man will come upon Wings of Fire"


This prophecy kept the man alive- he wanted to witness these Wings of Fire. He wanted to witness the End of Man. Then, and only then, could the man rest and be at peace. His hatred, ever growing, could only be quenched when he witnesses the death of the last man. But perhaps the prophecy meant something else. Perhaps the prophecy did actually mean that death was not the end, yet the beginning.

His kind also believed in the Phoenix; a majestic, magical bird who arose from its own ashes anew. Perhaps Man would also rise from its own ashes anew. Perhaps then Man would be cleansed. So many questions, so many uncertain conclusions.

Their armies were now within the boundaries of Salvation. The man watched as their soldiers hurled snowballs at the steel walls, which encircled the village. The strength in their arms left massive dents in the steel. The fortified door was no match for their strength, and soon it crashed to the ground. They stampeded into to the village crushing anyone who lay in their path. Screams echoed in the bitterly cold night. Fires spread throughout the village. Through his telescope the man watched all of this. A sickening smile formed on his face. This pleased him. They deserved everything that was coming to them.

A softened thud caught his attention. He turned slowly. The man stared into the eyes of the hybrid that stood before him. With his fist clenched he readied himself. The hybrid's snout sniffed the cold air. There was no scent of fear coming from this human. The man ran at the hybrid with his arms flailing in the air. The hybrid snorted and caught the man by the arm. He retched in pain as he heard the sickening crack of bone. The hybrid pushed his palm forward towards the mans head but stopped. He released his grip on the mans arm. His black-button eyes were fixated on the sky.

The man turned and stared at the cloudless night. He stared in disbelief as streaks of gold flew through the air. He smiled. The prophecy was correct. He turned towards the village; there was no sign of life except for the hybrids within. He was now the last of his kind. The hybrid returned his attention to the man. He landed a crushing blow against his temple. The man slumped forward into the snow. Above him the meteor shower ended unaware to what had transpired below.

TerrorFirmer

This is interesting, it's a great shame there is not more stories of its kind on boards. When I do write, it tends to be of a similar nature, usually somewhat apocalyptic....

good work.

HavoK

HavoK wrote:

This is interesting, it's a great shame there is not more stories of its kind on boards. When I do write, it tends to be of a similar nature, usually somewhat apocalyptic....

good work.

Thank you

I actually got the idea for this story when I was in Leaving Cert. Some book had an assignment to write a story with this line at the beginning:

"They began to move up just at dusk, and by the time night fell and the first flares became visible ..."

and it just went from there.

TerrorFirmer

I am currently writing a piece with a strangely similar opening. I have to say I like the darkness of that particular line though,

Mine is the traditional "Battle to prevent annihilation" vein....again.

Coming soon.

Matt Holck

polar bears
wild
it's a little unclear where all the bear/humans came from