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deep_red_bellsWith this quote in mind take a look back at some of the most memorable scenes in television and movies. Most of them have a piece of music behind them that simply adds to that overall feeling. With this very thought in mind, score your own scene. Find a piece of music, a song, an instrumental piece that would fit your muse. Something that when you hear it you can almost picture the scene in your mind. Find the song & write the scene. Upload the song if possible so that others can listen to the song while reading your prompt. Make an experience for the reader, for yourself, and for your muse.
[ooc: My song is borrowed from the Silent Hill soundtrack, and can be downloaded here]
It’s snowing.
How can there be snow, it’s so warm…
Where am I?
It isn’t a pretty white blanket over the streets and the buildings, but grey and dirty…there’s no sunlight to sparkle off of the surface. It’s dark…but it isn’t night. She can’t describe the darkness. It isn’t twilight, or dawn…it’s like nothing she’s seen before.
There’s no sun. There should be sun.
I don’t understand…
She takes a step. The snow swirls around her feet and into the air…light. Almost pretty…
But not snow.
…Ashes.
She looks upward. The falling ashes trickle over her skin, warm and soft, pepper her clothing, cling to her hair. The air is thick with smoke and cinder, but it doesn’t choke her. It’s almost pleasant.
The sky is red and black, swirling and ominous and dark…burning. Everything is burning. The world is on fire, but she isn’t afraid. There’s a beauty to it…there’s a finality. It’s done, it’s over, and it no longer matters who’s won.
It’s just a dream…but this is how it ends. This is how it all ends.
“Was always meant to end in fire.”
The voice is close and it startles her; she turns, and the ashes scatter and swirl at every movement. A pale moon of a face framed with dark, lank hair. Three lines of red obscure her features. Like war paint. There’s something in her eyes that reminds her of Ruby, though it takes her a moment to figure out what it is. They’re clouded. Misty. Unfocused. They look beyond her, rather than at her.
She doesn’t know the face. But she knows her. It’s the connection, the heritage, the line from one to the next, that feeling that she’s never been able to satisfactorily put into words. She’s been in her skin. She’s felt every prick of the needles, every shallow cut the hunting knife carved into her skin. She’s felt the same cold concrete scrapping her chin and cheek while the man…while he…
It’s you. It’s like finding a long lost piece of a puzzle. Her name. All she needs is her name.
“…Who are you?”
The girl cocks her head to one side and doesn’t answer right away. Every breath she exhales makes the trickling ashes dance through the air. “I’m not,” she finally replies, her voice low and soft. “I’ve never been. Not a who. There is no me. I’m it.”
“I--I don’t--it?”
“Her…all of her. All that we ever were. All that we are. All we‘ll be.”
She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
The girl takes a step toward her. She wants to back away but finds that she can’t move. Three charcoal smudged fingertips touch her forehead gently, and the girl smiles. It isn’t comforting in the least.
“You will. I’ll make you.”
Pain rips across her skin as jagged fingernails rake down her face.
=========================================================
Her scream carries into the waking world.
But it isn’t enough to shake her from the dream.
How can there be snow, it’s so warm…
Where am I?
It isn’t a pretty white blanket over the streets and the buildings, but grey and dirty…there’s no sunlight to sparkle off of the surface. It’s dark…but it isn’t night. She can’t describe the darkness. It isn’t twilight, or dawn…it’s like nothing she’s seen before.
There’s no sun. There should be sun.
I don’t understand…
She takes a step. The snow swirls around her feet and into the air…light. Almost pretty…
But not snow.
…Ashes.
She looks upward. The falling ashes trickle over her skin, warm and soft, pepper her clothing, cling to her hair. The air is thick with smoke and cinder, but it doesn’t choke her. It’s almost pleasant.
The sky is red and black, swirling and ominous and dark…burning. Everything is burning. The world is on fire, but she isn’t afraid. There’s a beauty to it…there’s a finality. It’s done, it’s over, and it no longer matters who’s won.
It’s just a dream…but this is how it ends. This is how it all ends.
“Was always meant to end in fire.”
The voice is close and it startles her; she turns, and the ashes scatter and swirl at every movement. A pale moon of a face framed with dark, lank hair. Three lines of red obscure her features. Like war paint. There’s something in her eyes that reminds her of Ruby, though it takes her a moment to figure out what it is. They’re clouded. Misty. Unfocused. They look beyond her, rather than at her.
She doesn’t know the face. But she knows her. It’s the connection, the heritage, the line from one to the next, that feeling that she’s never been able to satisfactorily put into words. She’s been in her skin. She’s felt every prick of the needles, every shallow cut the hunting knife carved into her skin. She’s felt the same cold concrete scrapping her chin and cheek while the man…while he…
It’s you. It’s like finding a long lost piece of a puzzle. Her name. All she needs is her name.
“…Who are you?”
The girl cocks her head to one side and doesn’t answer right away. Every breath she exhales makes the trickling ashes dance through the air. “I’m not,” she finally replies, her voice low and soft. “I’ve never been. Not a who. There is no me. I’m it.”
“I--I don’t--it?”
“Her…all of her. All that we ever were. All that we are. All we‘ll be.”
She swallows hard and shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
The girl takes a step toward her. She wants to back away but finds that she can’t move. Three charcoal smudged fingertips touch her forehead gently, and the girl smiles. It isn’t comforting in the least.
“You will. I’ll make you.”
Pain rips across her skin as jagged fingernails rake down her face.
=========================================================
Her scream carries into the waking world.
But it isn’t enough to shake her from the dream.
word count: 498
