Drums In the Mountains

They were coming. Their drums echoed through the empty valleys so loudly it was as if the rocks themselves were resounding and horns rang in the distance, high, haunting calls soaring above the deep thrumming of drums. They moved fast, seeming to lose all solidity as they slithered like shadows across the barren rocks and narrow gulleys. Storm clouds gathered overhead, iron grey to deepest black, silent malignant countenances fixed on the earth below as fast moving feet sent loose pebbles clattering noisily down the mountainsides. All the while, the drums and horns continued to grow steadily louder.

Not far away, on an open road at the base of the mountains, a lone figure stood on a hillside. It was a woman, pale as the morning dew that covered her feet, standing as still as if she had been turned to stone. Everything seemed hushed, no gentle breeze disturbed the long grass on the riverside and not a single bird dared to raise its voice. The woman just stood there, her face blank and eyes as flat and cold as shards of black mirror and her voice raised no higher than an eerie whisper.

"And so it begins."

The End

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