A time when all was lost, a time when all was found, a time when all was perfect, a time when it all began..
The sun began to set when Cameron walked down the streets, shops closing down, people retreating to their homes, it soon become silent. He had just stepped off the street into the alleyway, his usual shortcut towards home, when he spotted a black shape moving in the corner of his eye, he turned towards it, only for it to move out of his line of sight, he followed it.. It was playing with him.
It took it a while to settle in one place, landing on the high wall of someones garden, watching Cameron carefully, as if it was studying him, the way he walked, the way he stood, even the depth of his eyes.. What did it want? He heard a whisper in the wind.. A hero shall rise up from the ashes, the fire burning endlessly in his heart, his passion shall support him, his bravery shall protect him, his foolishness shall make him pay. It was as if somebody was whispering a prophecy, he shook his head, catagorizing it as his overactive imagination, he looked back to where the black entity had been, it was gone. He continued on walking until he reached his home.
He felt something was wrong when he placed his hand to the smooth wooden door, pushing it open ever so slightly, he peeked his head in, "Is anyone home..?" he shouted, receiving no reply, he muttered to himself, "They must all be running late.. Oh well.. Have the house to myself." He stepped over the threshold, there was something wrong.
He continued on through the house, his eyes narrowed as he took in every single detail, coats still there, lights off, no sound upstairs.. What the hell was going on..? He padded into the kitchen after kicking his scuffed trainers off. He heard the whisper again, this time.. only slightly more louder... A battle is won, a life is lost, a new warrior is born.. A hundred times more will battle be fought, no one losing, no one winning, it is an endless bloody struggle. Yet another prophecy he thought, just his imagination... Something was happening and he didn't like it, not one little bit, he was losing his mind.
He turned to walk upstairs when he saw a figure standing in the doorway, shrouded in mystery and shadow, they began to walk forwards, the light falling on their face.
The heat of the sun, the calm before the storm, the hand of the gods lay plain and simple, do or die, that is the final act as the last card is drawn, who will prevail, rise from the battle as victor of the day, the ending of ones life to start another.