Aria took Flinne's hand and carefully climbed over the fence to hop down onto the firm dry ground on the other side. In response to her beloved's fierce reassurance, she couldn't help but to give him a small smile. I know. No matter what happens or what this all means, I know you'll protect me. And I'll do the same for you Flinne. I'll keep you safe, too.
It was a long walk down the dusty dirt road away from the cattle pen, the lowing of the cows following them well into the distance even after the view of where they had landed disappeared behind gently rolling hills swathed in green and broken up by stands of leafless trees and briar thickets. It would have been a pleasant walk if not for the chilly breeze and the air of anxious foreboding that Aria felt. There were no signs, nothing to really indicate just where the dream had dropped them. And besides the fencing around the cattle and the rough dirt road on which they walked there was really no other indication that there had been people there before them for that matter. When a grain silo and the pitched roof of a farmhouse began to rise over a stand of trees in the distance, Aria could hardly believe the overwhelming wave of relief that washed over her. She had begun to worry that they might wander that lonely dirt road forever. Turning to beam a bright smile at Flinne, she slipped her hand into his to give it a firm squeeze.
As they neared the farmstead, all seemed well and right. Clothes flapped in the chilly breeze where they hung from a washline, the wooden siding was in need of a fresh coat of paint but the rocking chairs upon the porch were new. Flowers planted in beds along the foundation competed with weeds and here and there a child's toy could be found peeking out of the grass. The field from the dream they had just left, or at least one very similar and already cut lay behind the house. An old beat-up pickup in matte primer green was parked in the gravel drive. The wheel wells were rusted out and the plates, which Aria was hoping would lend a clue as to their whereabouts, said only "FARM USE" in a faded scrawl.
"I'm not getting any cell signal out here, so maybe we could see where we are and ask to use their phone?" Aria asked, letting go of Flinne's hand to walk lightly up the porch steps and try to get as much mud as she could off of her shoes as she wiped them upon the mat. It was bad enough that two strangers would be walking in out of nowhere with some crazy tale much less tracking mud all through their home. Raising her fist to knock, Aria was surprised to find the door swung inward with the slightest touch of her knuckles.
But that was to be expected, right? All the way out there, who would keep their door locked? At any rate, she thought she heard voices from within. Casting a quick look to Flinne, she pushed the door open a bit wider to call out. "Hello? Hello! Is there anyone home? We're stranded and need some help, please?"
The minutes ticked by without a sound of movement from within. Still the voices droned on; now that she listened Aria was certain that they were coming from a TV. "I don't think anyone's home. We'll just use the phone and leave." Wide hazel eyes cast to Flinne, begging reassurance even as the empty farmhouse sent warning bells ringing in her ears. Something seemed off about it, wrong, despite how normal the appearance of the yard and surroundings.
Upon entering, the house seemed to have been left in haste. A few pictures had been taken from the walls, clothes strewn haphazardly on a made but tousled bed in a downstairs bedroom. Aria didn't bother to climb the stairs going to the second floor; instead she picked her way down a hall in the direction of the sounds from the television. The scene and the utter quiet of the house aside from that noise was raising the hair upon her arms and the back of her neck. Gripping her purse tighter on her shoulder, she glanced back at Flinne in order to keep her nerves in check.
The TV sat atop a weathered oak stand underneath a stuffed and mounted buck's head. Its hooves, mounted and upturned to hold a rifle were empty. Ignoring everything else in the simple cozy room, Aria watched in horror at the images flashing across the screen. She felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her, like she was drowning and could not get oxygen into her lungs no matter how she tried. They said they were moving before. They were moving. And now... oh please, no.
Loops of footage, strung together from around the world with the city names listed in white at the lower left corners- no time for fancy graphics, it seemed- flashed as by as an anchorman advised people to gather loved ones, avoid the larger cities, and not to panic. Useless. Watching the images could tell you that. It was all useless.
Grainy footage from Manhattan, San Francisco, Tokyo, Berlin; all showed different horrible views of the same thing. The oily masses of shadow that had collected and sat for days seemingly benign had, as Madeline and Jared had said what suddenly seemed like ages ago, begun to move. The roiling masses, like a den of snakes wiggling across streets and cars and buildings make her skin crawl. Aria could almost feel it against her and the only thing more horrible than the massive wriggling forms crawling their way across the planet was what they left behind.
Absolute ruination. Nothingness. Just a grey void like the trail of a slug extending back behind each mass of lightless obsidian maggots, the crumbling ruins of buildings and structures in their wake. There was a high keening noise accompanying the footage, eventually drowning out the repeated words of the anchor on screen as the picture began to blur and distort. The pain in her knees seemed to jar Aria back to herself and she found she was on the floor, tears streaming down her face. The high noise now totally drowning out all sound from the television were her own screams.