Flight of the Raven Pt. 01

The field was remarkably quiet, while hundreds of pupils stared silently up at the sky -- lost to the world within their own minds. Trying desperately to ingrain the vision in their heads, so they'd never forget the sight. The magic.

I was a little surprised that even Hargraves pupils were affected by the view. Despite it being so incredible.

The brilliance of the eclipse was captivating. I continued staring up at it. Helpless in its hungry gaze.


It pulsed.

Literally, pulsed.

A strange maroon light, brighter than the sky, began to grow from the orb. Spreading further and further from the eclipse in every direction -- descending on the world in a ruby wall.

The weather followed it.

This was no ordinary weather.

Jagged, vermilion bolts of lightning could be seen in the sky, behind which the carmine light was unfurling, following in its wake. They were huge, bright gashes in the sky; easily discernible from the rest of the sanguine light by being much brighter -- like a strip of blood-red fire in the sky. Flaring briefly, before vanishing a second later.

Deafening cracks, like thunder, could be heard after each lightning strike. The part of my mind still functioning wondered how the noise was travelling so fast. Taking but an instant for a bolt of lightning to appear and then to hear the thwack of its arrival lashing through the air.

It started raining as the ruby wall passed by directly overhead, growing steadily in every direction, dropping lower and lower towards us. The crimson screen seemed more ominous as it descended towards the ground.

Cries reached my ears.

This was no rain. Shocked, I looked around the field.

What I saw caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Hundreds of people were desperately scratching their arms and heads. Screaming.

A droplet of rain fell on my arm. I yelped and brushed it off. Looking down I couldn't see a mark, but the pain was all too real.

What the fuck.

"Everyone inside! Move it!" I heard Mr Hardy shout above the sound of the heavy winds that had followed the rain -- smothering us in a hot, heavy wave of air.

Well I wasn't one to ignore a teacher. At least, not one who had initiated a stampede towards me: still standing just outside the doors at the back of the crowd.

I turned, running inside as hundreds of students surged towards the gym and perceived safety.

After stepping to the side of the doors when I crossed the threshold, I spun back: desperate to watch events unfold.

As pupils and teachers alike rushed back inside I saw exactly what the rain was. Ash. Pure, black ash was screaming down from the sky below the vermilion wall in an endless wave, pushed and pulled in sickening lurches by the gale winds buffeting the area.

The ash was burning. Like drops of jet-black flame racing down from the sky, eager to sear the flesh of its victims. I saw Cathy stumble and fall several yards from the doors. Being the first one out had meant that she was at the back of the crowd running for safety. No one near her noticed, their minds focussed only on reaching the gym and its promise of protection. The others in the gym, looking out with a mixture of both horror and palpable relief, noticed Cathy. Noticed, but didn't care that she was dying. The ash falling more and more densely, like a thick rain of smoke, blanketing the earth in a layer of soot. Cathy was unable to rise, seemingly having damaged her leg or ankle in the fall.

I noticed. I cared. Whispering a silent apology to my mother, I prepared to break my promise. Irreversibly.

Stripping off my school blazer as I pushed through the students blocking the doors -- I forced my way through the current -- frantic to get outside. To reach her.

I started running, dodging under the arms of Mr Hardy in an attempt to prevent me leaving the gym. I held the blazer above my head, sparing me from the worst of the ash as I sprinted outside. Unintelligible shouts and sounds followed, probably urging me to come to my senses.

Ignoring the cries I reached Cathy, still struggling to rise from the ground, arms urgently trying to swat away the falling ash. Desperately hoping to stop the burning of her flesh.

After wrapping my blazer around her, I placed my arms under her, one around her back and one around her legs, and picked her up, cradling her slender form to my chest.

With my arms burning both from the weight and the ash I ran, as best I could, back to the gym.

I was not to be granted easy passage.

I could feel my flesh smouldering as the ash got thicker and thicker, falling down in heavier and hotter waves, clogging my lungs with rancid, burning smoke which viciously attempted to hinder its two prisoners, while the ground of thick, compacted, black soot was eagerly trying to slow my flight, and a brutal wind was buffeting against me with lethal intent, wanting nothing more than to stop me reaching safety.

Fuck. That.

Battling through the oppressive elements I hurled myself through the doorway in a final attempt to escape the deadly weather -- landing on my back with Cathy sprawled on top of me. Crying, but alive.

I felt someone slapping my arms and head. Looking up in confusion I realized that it was Mr Hardy. Still groggy from the burning pains along my arms and breathless from carrying Cathy, it took me a moment to understand what was happening.

Mr Hardy had taken off his jacket and was buffeting both Cathy and I with it. Desperate to put out the fire.

Wait, what? Fire!?

"Ahhhhhh!" I wailed, helping the headmaster to smother the flames by trying to roll on the ground, despite having a fully-grown woman still lying on top of me.

After the last of the flames were extinguished, Mr Hardy looked at me and said both gratefully and grudgingly. "That was extremely dangerous young man, but thank you all the same. It was a very brave thing to do." He looked at me over Cathy's body, pressed against me, still hugging herself to me. "Luke right? Luke Raven?"

Tilting my head slightly to look up at him over Cathy's hair, which had spilled from its bun and was framing her delicate features, I nodded an affirmative. "Yes Sir, that's correct."

"Ah I thought so, I remembered your application." He paused, looking at Cathy. "Miss Jones, I know that you've been through a great deal, but please remember that you are still a teacher and that is a student you're lying on."

She ignored him, lifting herself up slightly so that she could look directly into my eyes. Her hazel orbs to my grey.

Though I'd bet my life they were pale blue at that moment.

"Thank you." Cathy spoke the words so softly that I barely caught them, but their intensity was clear. Looking into those soft, brown eyes I saw such depths of gratitude, devotion and love that it slightly unnerved me.

I grinned at her, nodding. Never breaking eye contact, hoping she understood that I was just happy she was all right.

Mr Hardy coughed from behind her. Cathy smiled at me again, looking embarrassed, and tried to stand. She got to her knees before stumbling, prompting Mr Hardy to grab her arm and gently help her up, shuffling her over to where the school nurse had hastily set up a space, filled with chairs and mats, for the students and teachers with the most pressing injuries. The nurse took over when they reached her and sat Cathy down on an empty chair, briefly examining her, before rushing to the open first-aid pouch on a table nearby.

I closed my eyes to shut out the blinding pain still coursing across my flesh from the ash. Opening them again to see Mr Hardy standing over me, offering me a hand. Accepting it gratefully, I rose slowly, arms still incredibly sore.

After finding my feet I gazed down at the burnt and blackened sleeves of a once-white school shirt. I stared down at the flesh encased within, still flaring with bouts of agonizing pain, but no burns. The skin was clean. Unblemished. As if I had never run out into the ash at all.

I glanced at Mr Hardy, still standing next to me.

He must have understood the question in my eyes as he started speaking. "I'm not sure either Luke, none of us seem to have any burns, marks or wounds of any kind from the ash. Yet the pain is real enough, just look around. I'm not quite sure what to make of it.

I did as he suggested. Quickly scanning the crowd of people. He was right, many people were moaning in pain, but the more I looked the more I saw that none of them appeared to have any permanent damage.

It was really strange, but then again this whole thing was pretty fucked up so I guess it was normal for the circumstances.

Looking back to Mr Hardy I noticed that he too had been burned. His pristine white shirt was blackened and stained, covered in holes with charred edges. Yet he too seemed fine, his skin appeared undamaged by the burns.

As I noticed this I realized that my own pain had started to subside. It was still agonizing, but was no longer completely debilitating.

Huh. That was weird. So it felt like being burnt, but the effects quickly wore off and there seemed to be no permanent physical damage. How peculiar.

Looking back outside I could see the crimson screen had descended further and was much closer to the ground, floating a few metres from the surface.

Hmm. It looked like it was only a foot or so higher than the roof of the gym. I wondered if the vermilion light would pierce through the building, looking up at the ceiling to lay to rest these suspicions.

Fuck. I jinxed it.

There above me, silently dropping like some scarlet plague, was a glowing blood-red light. Moving slowly but steadily the light edged inexorably towards us. Others started to notice it, pointing upwards and crying out in fear and horror.

People cowered, trying to crouch or lay on the floor to gain time and provide less of a target. People screamed and wailed. People simply stopped, looking up and waiting. I bet some people prayed.

I whispered a farewell to my mother and sat, with legs crossed, as comfortably as I could. Watching the light approach us, hungrily.

The luminescent carmine glow reached us, passing through the heads of the tallest people still standing and continuing downwards, unrelenting in its mission to reach us all.


People began screaming in pain, wails of such agony that they made the cries from the burning ash sound like admissions of joy. In stark contrast to this some people seemed unaffected. Students and teachers alike were looking around in confusion at the others who were moaning in physical anguish.

My observations were interrupted by the light reaching me and the pain that came with it. Pain so intense I thought I could hear my soul screaming.

I fell to the floor in torment, wrapping my hands around my head tightly, desperately trying to stem the rising flood of agony that was coursing in perpetual bouts of suffering through my skull.

Amidst the flashing bolts of pain were sparse, short, scenes of clarity. The picture I pieced together in these moments was soul destroying. There must have been nearly seven hundred students and staff in Hargraves. Almost all of whom were in the gym. Huge clumps of humanity were on the floor, like me. Mirroring my suffering with such intensity that I felt physically sick. What was strange was that a good half of the room seemed completely unaffected. They were staring in horror at the rest of us, appalled by the pain they were witnessing. I noticed Cathy moving towards me with a slight limp and a determined look in her eyes, eventually sitting down beside me. She seemed like almost half the room: completely immune to the torment with which I was suffering. Cathy cradled my head in her lap, whispering sweet nothings in my ear, tears splashing against my cheeks. I saw Tony, on his knees, vomiting from the pain, two members of 'KFC' Kate and Franky were nearby too, writhing in agony. Mr Hardy was squatting next to his daughter, fruitlessly attempting to ease her suffering.

Then, in one of the longest moments of serenity I had from the wave of torment eating at my mind, I saw it. I saw the crimson light reach the floor. Where it stopped.

The light glowed, becoming brighter and brighter, until it was almost too painful to look at. When the light was nearly blinding it jumped off the floor, rising one or two feet and changing colour to a dull, matt, black. Falling gracefully back to the ground the ebony layer of skin settled and then faded, seeming to sink into the floor. No trace of it remained.

The world shook.

I swayed on the ground, against my will, as the floor literally moved.

Earthquakes. Are you kidding me!?

Cathy kept calm, still holding my head in her lap, looking scared, but resolute to keep watch over me.

I tried to smile up at her, hoping to show my appreciation of her efforts, but I was assaulted by a fresh wave of pain, bursting through my lucidity. This agony was worse than before. Much worse. It felt like my brain was trying to grow. I could feel it stretching, desperate to be able to accommodate whatever force was trying to enter.

My eyes focussed once more.

After spending what seemed like hours in a prison of torment, hiding within myself to escape the agony. I was out. I was finally out. No pain assaulted me. No hurt lanced through me. The blessed relief caused me to smile, opening my eyes to see Cathy smiling down at me too, relief etched onto her face.

I lifted myself from her lap, sitting up and looking around, hoping that our suffering was over.

I shivered.

Everyone who had been affected by the crimson light. Half the room struck down with pain. Was still affected by it. Looking around in horror I realized it was far more terrible than that. They were getting worse. Much worse.

I paled as I saw students. Children. Clawing at skin that had blistered and cracked, blood running in rivulets from the gashes in their flesh. Great gouts of blood gushing from the noses of pupils and teachers alike. Some were even coughing blood in huge clumps, staining the floor a disturbing red. Others still were frantically scratching their eyes, black as night, smoke rising in great columns from the orbs, blood streaking down their faces as fingers tore their own eyes to shreds.

Then I saw the ones in the final stages of this infliction. The ones I assumed the light had consumed first, or perhaps the ones with the weakest constitutions. I didn't know. It didn't matter. After suffering the symptoms others were still fighting through, these brave pioneers were experiencing a whole new ordeal.

Death.

They were trembling, bodies destroyed by their torment. Their mockeries of conjoined flesh, were convulsing -- violently. Their heads were banging repeatedly on the floor as they rolled madly on the ground, arms flailing wildly.

And then.

They weren't.

They simply stopped.

Stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. Stopped living. I could see them just lying there, lifeless corpses of children, men and women. Once apart in life by position. Now united in death by situation.

I stared around the room, my eyes as lifeless as those of the corpses littering the gym. Cathy hugged me from behind, burying her face against my shoulder and crying mournfully.

The people who were unaffected seemed to be in a similar position to us. They were staring emptily, crying sorrowfully, or moving hopelessly, going from one corpse to another in a vain attempt to help.

A few seconds passed in this way. Then it was over. No one who was affected was left alive.

Well, except me.

Holy fuck. Tony too! I realized when I saw him sitting up with the school nurse beside him.

Thank God for small mercies.

Fuck. Kate too! I saw her in the arms of her father, an endless font of tears.

I cursed my habit of jinxing things.

Patting Cathy's hands on my chest, I gently disentangled myself from her. Rising onto my feet and offering her a hand. She gratefully accepted and stood beside me, favouring her right leg slightly and leaning on me for support.

It was a good job she did too, apparently these earthquakes weren't over yet. Another huge jolt ran through the floor followed closely by several smaller ones, forcing a few people to their knees and causing Cathy to cling to me more tightly.

A loud crash echoed through the room, silencing most of the wailing and sorrowful cries, but not all. Kate was still moaning hysterically, her father's arms around her, while her own arms clung to Freddy's lifeless corpse beneath her.

I ignored her, looking, like most of the room, towards the cause of the crash. The trolley carrying the huge, old TV was now laid against the back wall of the gym which it had smashed into after the quakes.

Surprisingly, the TV was still on blaring out some incomprehensible words in a vain attempt to be heard over the vicious weather outside. However, I noticed that the screen was no longer one looking out from Paris. Instead, there was a large British flag over a dull, dark-blue background. It looked official.

Realising this I called out. "Quickly, close the doors! I think this is important."

Most ignored me, but a few people near to the doors ran over and wrestled with the huge panes of sliding glass, now stained with even more filth from the ash. As each colossal gateway was shut, the noise of the TV was heard more and more clearly.

A few seconds later the last portal was slammed closed and an eerie quiet descended on the room. Shattered only by Kate's relentless sobs and the now comprehensible words from the TV.

An air-raid warning type of boom was coming from the screen, punctuated by a useless, generic phrase. "This is an emergency broadcast! Please wait in a safe place where you can hear this message. We will provide citizens with more information shortly."

I sighed, having hoped that the broadcast would've provided a small measure of salvation for our dire situation. Evidently that hope was put on hold, along with the information we so desperately craved.

Mr Hardy pushed past the crowd that was slowly gathering around the TV, hoping they would be told this was all a dream, a test, a war. Anything so long as it would help them understand what had happened, or why. Reaching the TV, Mr Hardy turned towards us and spoke, while one arm gently hugged a shaking Kate to his chest.

When he turned and spoke to the crowd, huddled before him for hope and guidance, his voice was weak and stuttering. Not at all like his usual speech. I wasn't surprised. Not after what we'd been through. "People... We need to try and keep calm... We need to wait for the broadcast... It promised more information. We need to know what's going on before we can do anything... With certainty..." He paused, his eyes glazing over as he scanned the rows of bodies behind us. "We can't stay here. We need to move the children elsewhere... Anywhere but here. Mr Harrel, Mr Woodlock. Please can you lead the pupils out. Take them to the cafeteria. Luke, Miss Jones, would you mind helping me to get this TV there too? We need to hear the broadcast when it starts. We all do."

We all stood there. Silently. No one wanting to be the first to move. Still hoping that we would wake up. Praying that we would.

I acted. My mother hadn't trained me to freeze under pressure, she had always taught me to keep a clear head in trying times.

I spoke clearly, for the whole room to hear. "Yes Mr Hardy, that's a sensible suggestion. Tone would you mind helping us as well?" I had seen Tony shaking with a look of near madness and wanted to keep him close, to hopefully help him stay in the here and now. Although, even I had to admit that the present was pretty shit at the moment.

My small friend looked up at me, seeing past his inner torments and staring straight into my eyes. He nodded repeatedly, his nerves still getting the better of him.