Fall of Man

The Fall of Man

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly they moved through the night, tall trees
covering them, shielding them from the moon, plunging the forest into
darkness. A darkness deeper than death. They stumbled and staggered in
the blackness, moving as quickly as was possible, as if their lives
depended on it. But still so slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Pain wracked their
bodies: sweat ran as freely as blood, hearts pounded like a beat played
by some hidden drummer, foreboding, doom-filled and scary. Their eyes
darted left and right warily as they moved, and even through the
darkness shone with unshed tears. That was it - three silhouettes
fleeing a nameless terror through a deep black forest in the dead of
the night. And though they moved with the fear of the King of Hell or
worse chasing them, still they moved slowly. Slowly. Slowly.

Suddenly, light. A speck, growing. Bigger, brighter. Growing. Growing.
Growing until it became unbearable, searing eyes and sending pain
through the brain. And with it sound. Horrible sound that made ears
bleed, bones shatter, minds collapse. Yet, with the burning light and
unbearable sound came beauty. Where it was bone shattering, it was
soothing. Where it was mind collapsing, it was magical. And where it
was ear piercing, it was mystical. Ears were healed in the moment they
were burst, bones were mended as soon as they were shattered, and minds
were restored before they were seen to be gone. The light, burning and
painful one moment, became like a refreshing wave of cool water,
washing over them and restoring them inside and out. They were calm,
peaceful, happy. Their fear had gone. The three stood, looked. No sun,
no light, but they could see. Trees, animals, the beauty of the
forest.

Out of the sky suddenly fell a single snowflake. It was tiny, high in
the sky, impossible to see - but they saw it anyway. They watched it
float down to the ground, slowly and gently from a cloudless sky. It
reached the trees, but missed them all and came to rest on a moss
covered rock in a clearing. They gathered around, looking, marvelling
at its beauty. Two men and women looking a single snowflake on a warm
night that fell from a cloudless sky. There was light again, coming
from the flake, it's limitless beauty, flawless symmetry and timeless
perfection enhanced and multiplied by the invisible light source within
it.

How long they stood there, days, months, years, longer. Longer. Longer.
No one will know. But the flake changed. It began to bring about a
different emotion in them. It brought curiosity, wonder, interest. No
longer awe inspired, they questioned. Tested. Demanded. And finally,
ordered. And the snowflake changed again, and they became angry.
Conceited. Greedy. And they demanded more, but the snowflake would not
relent. Finally the woman reached out to touch it, feel it, for she
still held it in admiration, though no longer awe. And as her finger
touched it, the light became impossibly bright. It shone out and seared
eyes, burned skin, as before. And the sound changed, and became ear
piercing, mind numbingly painful, bone cracking. The three fell away,
and the light stopped. They stood, and looked back. Back. Back. And
what they saw was indescribable. Evil. Corrupted. Nasty. Disgusting.
Greedy. Conceited. Angry. Terrifying. they saw themselves. Themselves.
Themselves.

Slowly. Slowly. Slowly they moved through the night, tall trees
covering them, shielding them from the moon, plunging the forest into
darkness. A darkness deeper than death. They stumbled and staggered in
the blackness, moving as quickly as was possible, as if their lives
depended on it. But still so slowly. Slowly. Slowly. Pain wracked their
bodies: sweat ran as freely as blood, hearts pounded like a beat played
by some hidden drummer, foreboding, doom-filled and scary. Their eyes
darted left and right warily as they moved, and even through the
darkness shone with unshed tears. That was it - three silhouettes
fleeing a nameless terror through a deep black forest in the dead of
the night. And though they moved with the fear of the King of Hell or
worse chasing them, still they moved slowly. Slowly. Slowly.