The fallen giant

(Here is a work based off an in-class exercise at Write to Reconcile’s Jaffna Workshop. This is a long description of one of the terrifying metal monsters that plagued the north during the war…)  

The clouds parted once more as the sun’s rays tore through, illuminating the dust-choked salt pans which I was traversing alone. Here, hell had been unleashed a thousand times, as I’d met souls who wished their life of prosperity, their life of brightness, was forever. I’d met those who thought love was forever, who’d wished to lie forever beside the ones they always wanted.

But of course, it was never so.

Love and hate, fire and ice, heaven and hell are all but passing.

Once on that plain, I saw a great harbinger of death. A steel behemoth from the depths of the abyss, whose solid dull flanks were now spotted, gutted and scarred by heaven’s purest flames. The monster’s roars had once echoed across the plains like thunder as it shot fire at its helpless prey. All men of flesh and blood, the world around it and the concrete jungle, had simply fallen before its hulking mass and deadly breath. The superpredator once scanned the horizon for miles, long head and turret swiveling like the eyes of a stalking chameleon, tongue at the ready. Once its prey was within its sights, its flames burst forth, cratering the soil around it and tearing those organisms around it into mere burned corpses. As I neared the dead monster, I felt its soul pulsing through mine.

The screams and death-throes of its prey and of the other demonic creations like itself, all flooded my mind as I meditated upon the brutality that once occurred upon this plain.

For was this dry northern scrub not where men and their metal beasts had wrought death upon each other?

But the harder I stared at that quiet, windless world, I sighed.

The reign of the beast was not forever.

The angels had come, and its soul was taken from it, as fire from the skies shot down hell’s blazing breath. The wheeled metal reaper was thus no more, gone in a flash, dying roars flying across this ancient plain. Now, its innards lay disorganized around it, rusted by water. Heaven’s final cleansing was when God wept at the sight of its victims after all.

And even that would not last forever.

Just like that changeable sky. Clouds were coming in, and another cleansing of tears upon the earth would be underway. Yet, the deadly colossus still stayed as the earth reclaimed his hulking body slowly. Slowly, surely, back to the mother he came from.





My name is Vasika, and this is going to be a short first post. This is my first-and only-solo blog. That’s it, enjoy reading!