Crystals

The crystals changed us, the ones who found them. They made us different. They made us strong. They made us dangerous. In a world of sheep we are wolves.

The power they give us is intoxicating. We never take them off, if we did we would lose everything. I held mine tighter as I walked into the building, hiding its glow. We crept over sleeping bodies of citizens of our city.

Being their last hope and them having no idea of the danger they were in put us in a difficult situation.

We walked across the room to the center before we released our crystals. Chanting quiet words we cast the protection spell. They would be safe tonight. We left without a trace. We go from house to house each night casting the protection spells keeping Her out.

Her being the one who uses her powers to kill. Like I said we are powerful, wolves among sheep powerful. With a different spell we could kill all the people in the town, we could make them suffer. We could make each other suffer.

Our band chooses to protect, while She causes chaos.

She didn’t win tonight, and She won’t win tomorrow. We will make sure of it.

Snow

The window was frosty from the chill outside. Condensation obscured part of the view of the winter world. Soft blue curtains fluttered as the furnace kicked on to heat the small house. Everything was silent. The unbroken blanket of snow outside coated the road. Cars were just ambiguous bumps.The rising sun made the snow sparkle like broken glass. It painted white rooftops into glittering gold. The sunlight looked warm, but the temperature outside was well below freezing.

The coffee maker hissed as it brewed. The pungent aroma filled the house. Warm cherry wood lined the stairs. Plush carpets adorned the floor. The overstuffed couch was full of blankets, with just a small section open for sitting. A half read book sat on the end table waiting to be picked up again. The television remained off to keep the integrity of the silent morning. Sunlight was making its way across the room slanting through the blinds. The cat moved along with the watery warmth, avoiding shoes, and scarves, and socks.

When night fell the road had been turned to slush and most of the cars had been cleared off and moved to new locations on the street. Sidewalks had been cleared and the pristine morning was no where to be found. Slush capped mountains lined the streets and walkways. Dirt was crusted over the tops and up the sides where people had shoveled snow up to make way for people to walk. There was an eerie light from the moon reflecting off the snow, it wasn’t as dark. Streetlights painted the piles of snow sickly yellow. The house was still warm, there was no more condensation on the windows. Wet puddles collected in the entry from snow caked shoes. The television rumbled in the background. The soft tinkling of new snow falling was almost drowned out. The cat was sleeping comfortably on the top of the couch.