By Andrew W
Nothingness. Rooms brimming with nothingness. It was still. The only audible noise was the occasional weak, dry groan emitted from the floorboards. A beam of moonlight shone down on the building through the smashed remains of a window, and illuminated the tattered drapes, flowing in the wind like ghosts.
Outside, a tire swing hung from the branch of withering oak tree, slowly rocking back and forth in the silent breeze. A crow let out a resounding cry, which echoed through the site. Black clouds hovered overhead.
A television in the living room showed nothing but static on its screen. There was some comfort in the sound it made. A sofa bed directly across from it was covered in dust, and the rug below it was worn and ripped. The television suddenly flickered on, showing a news report.
“An F5 funnel tornado is heading towards Anadarko, Oklahoma.” The reporter announced. “All residents of that area must evacuate their houses immediately. Pack all of your things and take your family to the nearest storm cellar as quic-”
The screen went black.
As if on cue, a sudden, ominous, strong blast of wind shut the open window above the sofa. The branch keeping the tire swing up snapped in half. The entire house started to lean on one side. An enormous, gray figure appeared in the distance. Trees were ripped from their roots, ponds were lifted up, the ground was completely destroyed, becoming one with the tornado.
The shapeless gray blob started to approach the hill on which the house waited. It tore into the front porch, causing countless splinters of wood to fly in every direction. Shattering glass could be heard even through the brilliant screaming the monstrosity created. The house didn’t try to save itself; It had already accepted its fait.
“This is the end.” It whispered…