Important Notice:
We regret to inform you that our free phpBB forum hosting service will be discontinued by the end of June 30, 2024.
If you wish to migrate to our paid hosting service, please contact billing@hostonnet.com.
 |
|
 |
| Author |
Message |
Job McBadass
Douche (Retired)
Joined: 01 Dec 2008
Posts: 920
Location: In the Moment
Fri Dec 26, 2008 10:14 am |
 Post subject: The Little Pyropsyker Girl |
 |
|
This is a little sci-fi re-imagining of the Andersen classic, done in the universe of Warhammer 40,000. Even if you aren't a fan, it will still appeal to the sci-fi lover in you. And if it doesn't, then you are a heartless pig. Merry Chrismus.
The Little Pyropsyker Girl
It was so terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. Evening came on, the last evening of the year. In the cold and gloom a poor little girl, bareheaded and barefoot, was walking through the streets of the Hive. But the girl had a secret: she could make fire! Oh how wonderful this secret was, for along with her love for the God-Emperor, it was the only thing keeping her alive.
Of course, though, she was hungry, for she had nought a crown to buy food, and she had not eaten for days. She crept along, a picture of misery, poor little girl! The snowflakes fell on her long fair hair, which hung in pretty curls over her neck. In all the windows lights were shining, and there was a wonderful smell of roast grox, for it was the Year's Recycling Celebration. Yes, she thought of that!
In a corner formed by two hab-blocks, one of which projected farther out into the street than the other, she sat down and drew up her little feet under her. She was getting cold, and so she thought of flame, and by the Emperor, one appeared! Oh how joyful she was, as the flame jumped and played like a kitten. All this made her think of home. Not her home, however. She could not return home, as she had not garnered a single crown through begging, and if she returned with no money her father would surely beat her. Besides, at home, she could not make fire, and so at home she was always cold.
Her hands played with the flame, caressed it and hugged it like she would a real kitten. Her whole body was warm, and even now she felt hunger but a little. The flame scampered off, burning brightly, and when the light fell upon the wall it became transparent like a thin veil, and she could see through it into a room. The kitchen block was as cheery as it was functional, and upon the table she spied a hock of roast grox. It steamed gloriously, and with the alotted grain and vegetable rations, it would make a mighty meal. The girl imagined herself there, and with a loving family, but then the flame came back and the vision disappeared.
The little girl reached both her hands toward the flame. Then the flame jumped up, and she moved to see it dance above her. The little flame joined the bright stars in the sky. One of them fell down, forming a long line of fire. "Now someone is dying," thought the little girl, for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that when a star fell down a soul went to join the God-Emperor.
The flame danced back down and the nook became bright again, and in the glow her old grandmother stood clear and shining, kind and lovely. "Grandmother!" cried the child. "Oh, take me with you! I know you will disappear when the flame dances away!" And so the girl concentrated hard, and prayed even harder, and the little flame grew big, for she wished to keep her grandmother with her. And the flame grew larger, and hotter, though she did not feel it. All she saw was the flame and her Grandmother. And it seemed like hours, and she did not hear the cries of those running from the flames, or the screams of the Arbites who burned, or the shots from the witch-hunters.
But she did feel the shots, and they felt warm. She looked to her grandmother, and her grandmother had never been so grand and beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and both of them flew in brightness and joy above the earth, very, very high, and up there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor fear-they were with the God-Emperor.
But in the ashes, leaning against the burned-out wall, sat the little girl with red cheeks and smiling mouth, shot to death on the last evening of the old year. The New Year's sun rose upon a little pathetic figure. The child sat there, stiff and warm, and in her hands, a flame still danced.
"She wanted to warm herself, filthy witch" the Inquisitor said. No one who survived imagined what beautiful things she had seen, and how happily she had gone with her old grandmother and the God-Emperor into the bright New Year.
_________________
love,
Job |
|
| Back to top |
|
  |
Page 1 of 1 |
All times are GMT + 8 Hours
|
|
You cannot post new topics in this forum
You cannot reply to topics in this forum
You cannot edit your posts in this forum
You cannot delete your posts in this forum
You cannot vote in polls in this forum
|
phpBB skin developed by: eXtremepixels
|
