(no subject)
Apr. 25th, 2012 10:21 pmthey gathered in their house - broad-shouldered dad, delicate mom with a swollen stomach and tiny dean winchester, all big brown eyes and questions (where do we go when we die? to heaven, honey. is heaven a nice place? yes, the nicest place you’ve ever been. even cooler than the cleveland garden? yes, honey) and a smile. they all sit around the bread and look at each other.
they hold all hands.
“dear lord, please hear our prayers,” they all say: dean’s baby warble, john’s hard baritone, mary’s quiet murmur.
from nowhere, as if listening, comes a thing. a massive thing, the size of a skyscraper, the color of a lake, skinless and hairless. it doesn’t seem to notice the house - it simply leans down through the building, like it doesn’t exist. the thing is big enough that it’s face - six silver eyes, with eyelids all blinking out of sync - barely fits in the kitchen the family is in.
the family does not notice the monstrosity in the living room.
the thing has two shock-white wings, which it spreads to nearly cover the whole house. on one side it has two arms - one a massive shield that it holds over the house, protecting it from the rumbling rain - the other a delicate human hand with seven fingers. the other side has a massive scythe for a hand that wraps around the kitchen and the living room - and another regular hand. it folds the two normal hands over the family, and where the fingers meet there’s no defining line, like the hands have merged into one little bubble.
the family says nothing but there are thoughts, clear as clouds, in the air.
please keep my family safe says john, and the thing nods it’s giant head.
please give me a healthy child, says mary, and the thing moves one finger, as tall as the woman, and strokes the baby bump with a delicacy which should be impossible for something so massive. mary startles, drawing her hand over the bump, covering the thing’s finger.
mary looks up into the roof and smiles.
please keep me a brother who is good at football but not as good as me, says dean, and the thing makes a rumble that sounds like a wave. it draws the shield and scythe close, and they pass through the other two members of the kitchen without them noticing. he steps forward in the earth, until tiny dean winchester could poke one of the thing’s silver eyes out. the boy is probably about the same size as the eye.
dean stares at it without realizing.
please make him cool and like me too, dean adds.
the eye blinks, and for no reason that he can see, dean startles.
they hold all hands.
“dear lord, please hear our prayers,” they all say: dean’s baby warble, john’s hard baritone, mary’s quiet murmur.
from nowhere, as if listening, comes a thing. a massive thing, the size of a skyscraper, the color of a lake, skinless and hairless. it doesn’t seem to notice the house - it simply leans down through the building, like it doesn’t exist. the thing is big enough that it’s face - six silver eyes, with eyelids all blinking out of sync - barely fits in the kitchen the family is in.
the family does not notice the monstrosity in the living room.
the thing has two shock-white wings, which it spreads to nearly cover the whole house. on one side it has two arms - one a massive shield that it holds over the house, protecting it from the rumbling rain - the other a delicate human hand with seven fingers. the other side has a massive scythe for a hand that wraps around the kitchen and the living room - and another regular hand. it folds the two normal hands over the family, and where the fingers meet there’s no defining line, like the hands have merged into one little bubble.
the family says nothing but there are thoughts, clear as clouds, in the air.
please keep my family safe says john, and the thing nods it’s giant head.
please give me a healthy child, says mary, and the thing moves one finger, as tall as the woman, and strokes the baby bump with a delicacy which should be impossible for something so massive. mary startles, drawing her hand over the bump, covering the thing’s finger.
mary looks up into the roof and smiles.
please keep me a brother who is good at football but not as good as me, says dean, and the thing makes a rumble that sounds like a wave. it draws the shield and scythe close, and they pass through the other two members of the kitchen without them noticing. he steps forward in the earth, until tiny dean winchester could poke one of the thing’s silver eyes out. the boy is probably about the same size as the eye.
dean stares at it without realizing.
please make him cool and like me too, dean adds.
the eye blinks, and for no reason that he can see, dean startles.