Amy Rose: Visions

I stared at the inanimate object in front of me. 

It was just an ordinary clay pot, something you might fill with the refreshing water from the fountain, but it would do for now. It would help me. I was finding it increasingly difficult to control whilst my mind was so distracted, but I had to focus


Staring, I willed it to listen to my requests. I put as much force as I could behind the command. Every inch of my mind and my willpower was focussed on this damn pot in front of me.

Then something happened. Just a slight quiver of the pot at first, and then something more. It toppled slightly, as though unsure of itself and finally rose into the air. I smiled in satisfaction and relief. I made it swoop and glide through the air, doing little twirls and dives and giggled to myself. 

'Amy?' someone shouted my name and I cut all connections, letting the pot smash to the floor. Seconds later, someone entered my room. 'Amy, you're needed.'

It was Edis, the maid. She was a very pretty woman, with large blue eyes and dark blonde hair she kept tied in a bun, leaving a few tendrils dangling past her face. She was only in her late teens/early twenties and yet she would listen to everything that I told her to do. I didn't like bossing her around, I felt too rude, but ever since my Aunt had left, I've had no choice. Luckily for me, Edis remained faithful upon my Aunt's disappearance. She could've packed up her bags and left, but she decided to stay. 

'I'm needed? Where?' 

'Down by the river, someone called Stoker is looking for you.'

I narrowed my eyes imperceptibly as this name rolled from her tongue. Stoker was the only person who knew about my powers, he was the only person who would help me tame them. But he was so persistent, always demanding I trained that he wore me out.

'Okay,' I sighed reluctantly, standing up. 'I'll be down there in a second.'

As Edis left the room, I began to follow her when something caused me to stop dead in my tracks.

An image flashed through my mind. Well, an image wouldn't be the appropriate word. It was more like a scene. It started off inaudible at first and a little blurred, but then I was pulled into it and everything became crystal clear. 

'Attack!' an unfamiliar voice shouted. It was laced with authority and such power that I felt myself cringing. I tried to turn round at the sound of the voice, but my body had become separate from my mind and would not obey. Seconds later, thousands of people, men, were all riding on horses, some were running alongside with heavy weaponry in their hands shouting triumphantly. Holding their fists high above their heads. Then it became clear what they were doing.

They were slaughtering every man, woman and child that crossed their path. I watched in horror, unable to move, to speak or to act as they began killing the entire village. Blood was everywhere. Men were torn apart from their families, violently murdered whilst their children sobbed in terror, the women were beaten trying to protect their husbands. 

It was the most awful thing I had ever seen.

It was a relief when the scene dissolved in front of my eyes, but then another sight came forward. This one was of another army all on their horses as well, charging to some unknown destination. Each of them were wearing full body army, the color of onyx, like one giant black waterfall, lethal and deadly, threatening to destroy anything it came across. There was one person at the front, obviously the leader, but I could not see whether it was male or female. 

Then it was over. I was back in my room. 

I began shaking violently, from the fear of what I had just witnessed. Had it been real? Had it been false? Was it a mere creation of my wild imagination, or was it something more? A prophecy? A vision?

Suddenly I was running. Past startled glances, past ramshackle houses, through the grass in my bare feet and down to the river.

Stoker was facing the water, a stone in one hand and he flicked his wrist, so the pebble bounced off the surface of the river a few times before submerging completely. He turned to face me, his dark eyes piercing and dangerous.

'You took your time.'

'Stoker,' I gasped. 'I just..saw...something. I don't know, what.'

'A vision?' his voice was smooth, controlled.

'What?! How do you know?'

'It's just a part of what you are. I wondered how long it would take for you to experience your first.'

'So I have visions now?! You should've told me! You should've prepared me!'

'Nothing can prepare you for a vision,' he murmured, running his hand through jet black hair. 'What did you see?'

'Battle. Murder. Blood.' The words that fell from my lips were broken and distorted and I collapsed onto the ground. 

The last thing I saw before everything faded to grey was Stoker's calm, impassive face.

The End

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