War is Upon Us (Weird fanfic.)

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Yes. This is me being more than a little weird.

Umm... I apologize most sincerely. This is completely crazy and more than a little schitzophrenic. There is a whole lot of death and violence in this work.

Muse was this song and the idea came from the crazy side of my brain. I probably shouldn't be encouraging it, but my muse for weirdness has been around for a while, and I wanted to write something.

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War is Upon Us

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A slight ripple in time, and I started to fall.

War is upon us.

A misty city in the early morning, and a crossroads with two people, a decision approaching: kill him or not. It was not for them to decide was the thought in one’s mind. The other wanted him over with. The puzzle was not who was to be killed, but who wanted him dead.

Had she been older, Lily would maybe have understood her brother’s worry for the people. As it stood, however, she just followed him to neutrality, wading through rivers of blood to the safe places.

More ripples.

A building; a sliver of light.

Ripples.

A red wall; a forest. In that forest, behind that wall, strange things dwelled. The question, of course, was whether or not to release them; whether or not to let the human beings see how stupid they had been. And that was the question that China; that Japan; that South Korea; were faced with: what to do with their world.

And, as the people thought, uselessly, China ran through the forest, past trees and buses and… shadows. The bamboo fell; his child had betrayed him, and so the Sakura petals fell to the ground, tinged with the red of a thousand tears.

And then Greece, Turkey and Egypt; the sole, sincere powers of this world, would be torn by a simple word and the chains of misfortune; being. But why this was is not for me to decide.

A sneering face, but a young face hidden behind leaves and death. And feathers would fall from the dark sun and both would die.

And hair would be ruffled by the wind. A wind which would live on for eons to come.

And the brothers will fight. And they will win.

Hands, and a flag of snow, shall be raised.

But the brothers would still be fighting: swords and hands are a good combination, and the blood shall flow in to the already-red Rivers of the land.

But a ring shall surround them, and it shall shroud them in light, and only then will the dragon come, and only then will the dragon come, and only then will the dragon save them.

And to fall from a great creature, and to fall still fighting, is the greatest death of them all; it shall live on, long after you die. Long after the land, the sea, the sun and the moon die shall it live on.

But will he defeat the Legions of Death? And will he reach out to the Child? And will the Child take his hand?

A fire and a pistol, and the Brothers shall be separated by their nobility, and they shall fight, and their hatred shall poison the clouds a deep grey and the clouds shall stay that way. They will never be white again.

You cannot see who is under the mask, yet he still knows. And, as they fight, and as he jumps, the arrow will cause pain to them both. And the arrow will pierce time, and the arrow will destroy a millennium later.

But as they fight, they will be silent.

The pain of a broken heart is the greatest pain to withstand, and the worst death to die. But he shall rise again, and he shall be greater for his death.

See how still he lies? See how he is so complacent in death? See how the fires burn his very soul? See how the arrows pierce his heart? This is how they shall all die, some day soon.

And see how she died for the one she loved? See how she saved him, but she died herself? And see how the ropes bind her in place, but how they do not bind her heart. Her heart shall live on through the ages, and her heart shall never end.

Dead, with snow around him.

But he is not. He seems dead, but he is not. See how he moves, and see that he is not dead!

But to sense your partner’s death, and to feel his strength course through your own body is the greatest of nobilities, and the greatest of pains. And when these two meet, you shall fight on.

And the Angel with the Ragged Wings shall rise from the ground, and the Angel with the Ragged Wings shall fly, and he shall save them from their fates.

She shall rise, and she shall see that they live or die, as her Master so pleases.

But he shall live, and they will celebrate his life, but they shall never celebrate his recovery. Never.

But shall the Innocents ever know? Shall they ever know what has been suffered for them to remain innocent?

But the lovers shall dance on in black and white, never in colour, but always happy. Always so very happy…

~Fin.~

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