Hell’s Bells

[Felt like writing some good ol’ fashioned fiction…]

The bells’ knell resounded through the village.

Nature went silent. She muffled the birds, stilled the swaying of the trees, frozen the wind, as if she knew what was coming.

The cobbled streets of the village were empty and silent.

Then it began.

High-pitched screams echoed across the countryside, startling birds into flight. Birds flew off en masse, but the flapping of their wings was not loud enough to stifle the bloodcurdling screeches coming from the village.

Amid the confusion, a door creaked, followed swiftly by the whipping of hard steel through the air, ending in a low groan.

Moments later, silence reigned, as if nothing had happened.

The bells rang still, seemingly louder in the deathly quiet.

Somewhere a door swung open, clearly too heavy for its hinges.

Heavy panting sounded, then the grinding of a match as its tip was ignited. A moment’s silence dominated, then there came a healthy pop and crackle as flames swallowed the village remains.

The scent of burning flesh and wood turning to ashes filled the air.

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