Just a warning, it’s a story.

Therefore, it is advised you do not read it. & No picture for this. I didn’t find anything that resembles it.

Bird cage, locked, trapped, revealed through gaps, bird, paper to seal, falls off, word on it.

It’s dark.

The engulfing darkness invades and attacks the newly formed light. The light, easily scared and frightened, turns and runs in the opposite direction, illuminating the door before promptly being shut off.

“Blast, wrong light…”

A small flick breaks the unnerving silence, and then the world begins to shine, brightly and harshly, temporarily setting back the vision of any life form.

“There we go.” The words slow stumbled out of the mouth, seeming unwilling to abide any commands. The words came in intervals, as if trying to delay their fate, elongating each other.

Now filled with photons, the inner details of the room became visible. The small, enclosed room reeked of 1970s vinyl disks, yet being barren of any object. Instead, the roof held a secret. From the center of the dim room, hung a small, ancient cage. A bird cage, decorated with a golden bird, a Bluejay. The rusted metal seemed to camouflage perfectly against the rotting wood that lined the room. Each pillar of golden red material slept in the gap between each mossy pillar of wood. In the center, lag a majestic, old lock. The kind one sees in antique shops.

A sound. The sound of metal clashing with wood, followed by incomprehensible mumbling.

Another sound, this time, a combination of metals, rattling against one another, as if they were fighting.

A third sound, the creaking of rusted metal. It hung low, scaring life away. Mouses scurried, birds flew but the human stayed.

Long, black shapes appeared on the wall. Slowly, yet surely moving towards the absence of light on the other side. They touched. The black sticks bent, revealing a sense of flexibility among the hidden attackers. The victim, shook back and forth, trying to escape from fate. Alas, it was not to be. An old piece of parchment, glided down, slowly descending the meter high length. It had a vector quantity to it’s purpose. It beckoned to leave, crawling slowly towards the exit.

A foot. It tramped the slightly burnt and now flattened parchment. It didn’t stay there for long, the foot slid back, an eager rectangle below it. A sly smile appeared on the stranger, during which the parchment, with the help of Ol’ Mother Nature, did a nice back flip, but landed on its face.

The stranger paused. From the pocketed, leaked the image of a stick, with a decent sized bulge on the top. Turning around to leave, the stick fell, scratching a rough surface on it’s way down.

The match was hurt. It’s dazzling innocence burned through the corruption of dark. Quickly, the innocence spread. Throughout the room, orange, red and yellow flashes each sought to find it another friend, to which it could attack. The parchment was doomed. With its last strength, it rolled over, revealing one, single word.

“Secrets.”

 

 

I haven’t typed a story in a while, hope it’s not too… surreal. Look for metaphors in that, instead of your English homework.
I realized I spent a total of 3 hours on this, and it’s not even good. Plus, I have NaNoWriMo to do.

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