ONE PERFECT MOMENT
1
There was one moment of pure stillness. A primeval, perfect peace. The apotheosis of silence.
Every hand frozen, mid-curling into a fist.
Every eye locked, unblinking, pupils dilated, in that moment horror becomes revelation.
Every sword and axe flashing with the reflections of hellish light. In the steel of our bared weapons, you could see the faces of those that waited in the underworld, withered and bleeding and clawed to ribbons.
The long dead and the recently slain, gazing into our world.
And behind them, things that had never been born at all.
They saw us. We saw them. Everything was silent. Everything was still.
For one perfect moment.