Adam was still a small boy when he awoke suddenly to a faint but unfamiliar sound, feeling a little shaken from another night of bad dreams. He had been having the dreams for months now and he was becoming more and more accustomed to them with each passing night. He no longer woke up screaming or crying and the fear had now become merely an uneasy feeling for him. They were something his father, too absorbed in his studies, had simply passed off as nightmares. But the visions were constant and they were always the same, always.
The visions were of a strange world engulfed in war on a massive scale, skies ablaze with fire, smoke and choking clouds of ash. It was a raging conflict fought for reasons he did not understand, between people whose faces he could not see through the bright light that seemed to emanate from their skin. Their dark metallic armor was gilded in places with unrecognizable markings. Some sort of writing that glowed brightly in the light as if it were red hot and glistened in a deep wet crimson in the shadows leaving it looking like rivulets of blood. Their gauntleted hands were slender and graceful looking, but held terrifying weapons like none he had ever seen. They were vicious in design and locked in a fatal dance of brutality between wielder and defender. The wickedly curved blades and spiked mauls rising and falling in a horrific and destructive rhythm of clashing steel against steel followed by the almost musical battle cries and screams.
It all should have been too much for a small boy of his age but he saw these things so clearly, as if he some how belonged to this place and to these people. They were so terrible, they were merciless in their savagery, but they were so incredibly beautiful.
Adam rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes and sat up in his bed, peering about through the darkness of the room. The waning moon shining through the tree limbs outside his window created an uninviting landscape of twisted black illusions and pale light. It was an effect that gave his scattered toys an eerie and surreal appearance in the pre-dawn hours. The soft glow of lamp light shining from the gap under his door was comforting though. It meant that his father was probably in the study again working late, something that wasn’t at all unusual. Maybe that’s where the noises had come from, the ones that had awakened him from his dream before it could finish. Before those gauntleted hands were reaching for him, pulling at him again.
Adam wanted to be where that light was coming from, to be where his father was. He wanted to hear his father’s gruff voice say that it was only a bad dream and everything would be ok before being sent back to bed again. If he was lucky, he might even get some milk and cookies out of the deal, which was all the motivation he needed. He hopped out of bed and slowly opened his door so the old hinges wouldn’t betray him and started walking silently down the long hall towards his father’s study, still dragging his chocolate colored teddy bear behind him. His small bare feet padded swiftly across the hardwood floors toward the lighted door way, turning the corner to find that his world had been changed forever.
This is part of the prologue to the book I'm working on. It's a fiction piece, but I won't say more than that now, I don't want to spoil it. You guys all have talent as writers so I need feedback and thoughts please. :)