Granny told me once that she had seen the sky on fire; that color had bloomed and danced like a flame. If she hadn’t been in just the right place at the right time, she would have missed it.
She had been awestruck, but I had listened to her, concerned. I didn’t know what the Northern Lights were, however I knew the sky should never be burning, and whatever she had seen must not have been good.
What if it had begun to reign down fire instead of water? What would have happened to Granny then? If I would have been there I would have been terrified, staring up into the flames of a blackened sky. Then she explained that the flames turned blue, which I knew from Mrs. Peters meant that the fire was very hot. That must have made the earth sweat, being that hot. We sat under the sky as she explained what it was. That was after Granny showed me the beauty of the tapestry, which we sat on top of the wet grass.
“The Northern Lights, you see, they are all the spirits of the world.”
“Spirits…” I asked, “Like ghosts?”
“No dear, like the peaceful souls of the loved and lost,” she explained. “The guardians of this wonderful blue planet.”
“But why is it red…” I asked.
“Because these lights are angry, and when the lights are red, dear, nothing good comes after.”
“After,” I asked. It was hard to imagine something after a burning sky and red, angry spirits.
“Yes, dear,” Granny said. “The red spirits signify the coming of the end times.” Granny laughed, and her voice became deeper, distorted, like a familiar song played in the wrong key.
The dream started to shift, to fade. I tried to hold onto granny’s voice, but it was an echo lost in a tunnel. Soon it was gone and my sister was shaking me awake.
“You were dreaming again, Piper.” Her dirt brown hair hanging limp and wet. She was fresh out of the bath. Here I was, covered in a cold sweat. My sister, Genoa, climbed into bed with me and wiped the sweat from my face.
“It’s OK, go back to sleep. I will be here,” she said softly in that soothing voice of hers. She always had such a soft, sweet voice. She pulled the covers up over us and wrapped her arm around my waist.
“Thanks, Gen.” I sighed as I closed my eyes. I could hear her humming, softly, an old tune that granny used to sing to us when we were little. The sound was comforting. I drifted off to sleep again, feeling safe and warm. It was as though granny was right there, making me feel loved and protected.
Genoa smiled as she held her sister. The demon inside her laughed and bided his time. Oh, how he loved to get a hold on them when they didn’t see it coming. He had watched this one until the time had been right. He possessed her at a weak moment and now she was his.
Soon, they would all be his. The sky will burn and their soul will scream. He shall bring about the coming of the Master. Then they will see what it is to feel pain, to feel despair, to tremble at the mere thought of the Master. Yes, things were coming along nicely. He laughed inside as she slept.
