Eschatology

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Title:  Eschatology
for spn_30snapshots
Table: Less Talk, More Action
Prompt: 21. vaticinate

Acrid smoke licked through slow shifting tumbleweeds, its source seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere.  A soft breeze was all that remained of the sandstorm that had grated its way through the desert sloughing sandstone and mesquite scrubs out of its erratic path.  Vultures curved lazy paths in the sky above, underlining the inevitable.

A deer mouse skittered across the floor of the one building left standing, scrabbling at the broken marble tile in an effort to find haven under one of the many tumbled columns. A rattlesnake sat defiantly in the center of the foyer, tongue testing the air for scent, almost dead-center on the medallion that had drawn visitors’ eyes to the elegant emblem there.  There was a soft droning hum as a swarm of yellow jackets bobbed and weaved through the foyer and on through the atrium that provided access to the remains of the building.

In corners shapes groaned and moved hissingly slow.  Uneven rattles from crevices unseen, created by the collapse of the floors above, the toppling of the braces and balustrades of the various stairways.  Closer and there were visible streaks of blood and other dried liquids smeared across what had once been a breathtaking mosaic floor depicting what once was.  Charred flesh was heavy in the air here. This is what drew not just the yellow jackets, but the gnats and flies that buzzed high and low throughout the crumbled space—the promise of sustenance.

The smell had licked out into the heat of the afternoon, drawing the night watch of the desert out before the setting of the sun.  Coyotes, bobcats and more of the lone rattlesnake’s kin were roused early by the scent that promised full bellies and sated instincts.  They padded softly through the dust and ash, heading unerringly for the building and its remnants.

Behind one particularly large Doric column in the ruined atrium was the arch of a hallway.  The smoke still hung heavy and thick here—a deterrent to insect and beast alike.  Lumps and masses slumped along the base of the walls, their prior forms indeterminate and individually indistinguishable.  Revenants were all that was left of whatever had died here, and even that was doubtful with the extent of decimation present.  The hallway and its grim lining ultimately led to a room.

Precariously held by one warped hinge, the door bowed outward and twisted away from its contents at a seemingly impossible angle. Melted, scarred, warped and scorched as it was, the metallic ore it was fashioned from was not instantly distinguishable; certainly none of its former gleam or supreme craftsmanship was evident.  The air seemed clearer here, as though something more oppressive had prevented it from seeping through.  A brown recluse lowered its ponderous frame down an invisible strand of silk before landing briefly on the twist of the door’s edge and skittering down the other side.

Bright and gleaming, the room had none of the wear or residue that marked the rest of the building.  No sign of anything amiss other than the misshapen wreckage of the door. Elaborately carved cornices framed the ceiling and its ethereal frescos and provided grounding for the delicate silken wall fabrics that stretched delicate and glimmering to the sparkling quartz of the floor. There was the sense that furnishings just as ornate had once filled the space, accentuating and occupying its grandeur, but there was none now.  The room was empty save the two bodies on the floor.

Human bodies, dark against the gleam of the floor.  Heads turned to each other, eyes closed, hands outstretched as though reaching for each other in their last moments. Loud against the room’s silence one of them gave a low and liquid death-rattle exploding the world.

White-hot and sudden, all that was…was not.

************

They sat in silence in the void.  Knowing what they were before and what they were to be after.  One Sam the other Dean. There were no words, for they had not yet need--each knew the other’s intent.  All was formless.  It was only They.  One made the choice, but it was the decision of both.

White-hot and sudden, all that was not…was.

*************

When the time comes, it will be no better or worse than before.