Flying demon

Just something I wrote out of boredom... 

Flying Demon

A sudden silence fell across the room, only the child with one eye noticed. There they lay dead, dozens of men and women; many more either injured or unconscious. A women calling for her spouse, yet no one calling back. One man crushed by the demon, another burnt to a crisp by the fire it shot out. The earth shot up as it slid across the now broken pine floor.

It's still alive. The child noted, it's still alive.

It flew through the wall as if it did on accident, but it must have been on purpose. It's body resembled a birds, though it was from hell. It was spewing balls of brimstone, causing at least four deaths, each one of them tearing through like paper. Shards of wine glasses costing at least 10 gold coins, scattered through out the room, like a pieces to a puzzle that could never be put back together again.

It took ten minutes for the fire to descend back into the demon, gasping for its last breath, it let out a final blast of fire and black smoke, causing the last remaining window to shatter.

The child descended the amazingly undamaged staircase, toward the demon. The smoke was still rising, but every second it got less, and less visible until it disappeared.

Snakes, it has snakes painted on it.. The child said to himself, looking at what seemed to be two black snakes laying on-top of each other, forming a crooked cross. It's a flying demon. The child followed it to the demons head, which reminded him of a bean, with two blades stretching from it. He glanced down to see his fathers crushed body, his eyes empty. He felt nothing; he was still trying to figure out what happened, and he never really thought much of him. He looked up and down demons body, until he noticed something, it was a man!

The man seemed to be alive, but only just. He was was wearing a dark blue uniform, with a red band and it too had the snakes on it. “Where am I?” The man whispered, barely opening his eyes.

Before the child could answer, the man fell unconscious. After about five minutes, the boy left the man, looking for his mother. As he was walking around, he noticed out of the sixty-four In attendance, only twenty-one survived, a little less of half of whom were unconscious.

He looked around, until he saw her, laying on the ground. He walked over to her, and sat down beside her.

“Mummy? Wake up mummy!” He cried; grabbing onto her hand, “Mummy wake up!”

Her eyes shot open, and looked at him. She sat up as quickly as possible, then hugging him. “Isaac! You're alive Isaac, thank God!”

They hugged each other for as long as possible, until the child looked up at her and asked, “Mummy, what is that thing?”

She glanced up at it, thought she did not have the proper words for it, she knew whatever it was, it certainly was nothing she'd ever even heard of. Though if she did know what it was, it would be called something wouldn't of even heard of for many of years, an airplane.

She shook her head, “I do not know. But whatever it may be, it's from hell. That I do know, my son.”

The End