square filled: Apocalypse

warnings: Horror; Gore; swearing; delusions; violence; Apocalypse setting

words: 1595

summary:

"Is this it," Bucky had whispered, his head craned upwards as he tried to search for the moon. He knew it was futile - the moon had disappeared this morning, he was the first to call it out; why must he search for something dead? "Will I die never marrying you?"

or

The world is ending, so hold your lover close.

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The sky was silent. There's a thundering crack from down the horizon, heads turning down by the mountainside. It seems to be approaching - faster now.

The night sky was blank, but stars seemed to swirl in its light. It scribbles, and it twists and turns, almost like a spinning blade, its light always reflecting and glinting. It looks like static, and the sky then becomes hazy with fire. It burns everlasting, Icarus would die once more just to approach it.

The crickets had stopped singing hours before, and the birds had been traveling North. The wind has stopped steering and has finally become still in the air. Deer have been spotted running by the fields, only to be shot and killed by hunters who were scurrying to get the hell out of there. There's a hush fallen over the small town right after every song anyone has ever sung. They listened in every time, waiting - sickened with impatience.

No sounds. It's sickening. It lasts for a few minutes before everyone suddenly turns to the sky with awe-filled and fear-stricken faces. One or two girls would yell: "The sky has fallen and the Lord has taken us!" with a sickening cackle that turns into blood-curdling screams, spazzing on the ground as bite marks appear on their bare arms. Their fathers would haul them back inside by the hair, and scream would occur, but everyone knows what happens; it's unspoken. No one mourns for the girls.

There's a stench of burning flesh, but no one could ever find the source. Boys have been exploring the woods that surrounded the town as a treasure hunt, but to no use; some never come back, and the ones who were left said that it was their choice to stay. Whatever that meant. The boys who stayed sat still in their dining rooms, flushed of color and drained of life, motionless and almost dead. The boys who never went have no use but to mourn at the treeline with tear-stained faces and decaying lilies, but they stopped when the mothers started disappearing as well.

The stars still burn - have been since the morning - and the town pastor says that that's where the smell of burning flesh comes from, also claiming to have heard "the sound of burning skin" with grief lacing his features, nauseated at the images that flash through his head. No one believed in Paul Wilson anymore, claiming that he's lost his mind. Maybe he did. It seemed like a logical solution. They didn't want to dwell into the possibilities.

Paul Wilson stayed bedridden, his legs shattered as he mumbles atrocities under his breath, almost mindless. The town stopped bringing flowers by the first hour in, because maybe they did believe the mad man - or who Paul was. The town has succumbed and their sins will dance with them to the melody of the downfall of humanity. Man has begged and the universe has turned their back on him. Let us pray.

In the field behind the Wilson household, a nice building from the many townhouses that lined the street, there parked a lone truck, and in that lone red truck was Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, blankets and pillows surrounding them as they sat on the roof, their hands gently intertwined with each other as the sky crackled once more. Blaring church bells sounded in the distance, echoing in the air like a phone call: Who goes there?! Who is it?! Are you ever coming home?! The mind has been struck with lightning and the thunder hasn't come, no, no one's coming home.

The church bells rang deliciously in the nearing eve sky, the stars beginning to fade and explode in the pale purple atmosphere. The trees had stopped singing, and there are lesser gunshots now. People flocked into the town square, and the church was open and rummaged; the bells still chimed, and the grates were now pulled down. They walk like zombies and may have accepted death.

"Is this it," Bucky had whispered, his head craned upwards as he tried to search for the moon. He knew it was futile - the moon had disappeared this morning, he was the first to call it out; why must he search for something dead? "Will I die never marrying you?"

Sam hummed in acknowledgment, watching the stars swirl like paint on running water as if Leonardo Da Vinci's famous Starry Night . So the madman was right; this was how the world ends. "I don't need a ring to know you love me, James," he spoke, his eyes starting to water from the strain. He couldn't bear to look away, needing to see it for himself. He needed proof , "I love you, as always,"

"I love you, too, Samuel," Bucky spoke. He neither squeezed Sam's hand nor cracked a smile; neither of the two showed emotion, too invested with what's happening with the sky.

Car horns blared at the far distance, people evacuating as they went and came. The fire department bell is ringing loud and deafening as if it could break glass windows. In the town square, people had started breaking store windows and stealing what they could. The supermarket is now empty, and the pharmacy has been closed shut with its grate; four men began barging through the pharmacy with a fire hydrant as a ramming pole. The center is now flooded as water spurted out of the hole, turning into a light pink as guts puked out of it - wild animals like foxes and deers had grabbed a piece of meat in their mouth and scurried away, their eyes wide and empty as they did. The town is now in shambles, and who's to say it wasn't like this in the other parts of the world? News stations had ceased last midnight, well... at least they had the decency to warn the public about the atrocities.

Bucky shuddered. "Do you hear hell scream?" His eyes watered, feeling his lips burn, becoming redder by the second.

Sam shook his head, jerking suddenly, almost jumping from his seat, "I hear the angel scream, James," he whispered under his breath, his breathing becoming raspy. His gaze settled on one star, becoming imminent, imploding brightly as its debris turned into smaller stars, ready to do the same, "What does it mean? Have they gotten to me? Is it my demise- Why so soon?"

"No. It's perfect," Bucky set his other hand on Sam's, intertwining their fingers together it felt wrong to feel much love at a time like this. Bucky's breathing hardened, and he couldn't feel his chest, as if disassociating from himself, feeling empty and too much all the same, "I heard it means you're spared. It means you get to live,"

"I don't want to leave you," Sam turned his head to face Bucky, but his eyes couldn't leave the cluster of stars. They seemed to beckon him: Come home, my child . It seemed so wrong and repulsing to even think otherwise. Stars seem to explode in Sam's eyes, "You must present a sacrifice, Buck, see you worthy-"

A thundering crack entered the sky, blood-curdling screams from girls echoed, and missiles zoomed past the stars, all a symphony of gruesome and disgusting displays of holiness. That's not what the town stayed for - half an hour later, the town seemed abandoned. Cars swept by and escaped the hell house with no direction of destination; they had holy water with them, crucifixes, and bibles.

God won't help you here , the woods screeched; deers, foxes, and wild hares rushed from the woods with blood streaming from their distraught eyes. Bucky and Sam stayed still as animals began to run around in circles in their field, shaking and heaving before collapsing, the earth decaying them quicker than nature would allow them to. The two lovers were too immersed in the stench of burning flesh from the stars to pay mind to their surroundings.

"I don't need to drain the blood of a deer to let the underworld know I'm worthy of your love," Bucky whispered, his lips chapped as blood began to form from his nostrils. He brought a hand to his nose, his finger now stained with his blood, sticking his fingers together to wipe it off. His nose bleed ran down to his chin quite quickly, but Sam was distracted to pay any mind, "They already know. That's why they chose you. They know. They always know,"

The town is now abandoned, except for the few families who wanted to believe what they see: Release the judgment! Do angels have eyes littered across their golden skin? Do they burn brighter than the sun? Do they have ten pairs of wings sprouting painfully from their spine? They wanted to know. Some are afraid to know.

"What if they don't?" Sam whispered, his mouth agape as he inhaled. There's fire sprouting from the stars, and it seemed to melt the sky, making it look like melted wax. He breathes freely; Bucky heaves.

Bucky coughed into his fist, hiding his blood tainted hand. "Believe me, my love, they know. Your God knows ,"

They sit on the roof of the truck, mesmerized by the stars, one by one dispersing into flames and clusters of dust. Flesh burns all around them, wildflowers growing on animal skulls and bones. The sky seemed darker now, but Sam and Bucky don't worry. Bucky clutches Sam's hand too tightly, and Sam feels freer than the world had let him in the first place.

Judgment arrives, and she is not kind.

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also on ao3 under honestlyfrance! what did y'all think?

- france