Weather

 The Weatherman by John 55555

He shuffled his papers and took a sip of water. He was about to go live. He sometimes wondered at what chaos would result if he didn't do his bit, and the populace went on their way guessing randomly (even more than he did) at what the weather of the day would be. Or still worse, if he violated his sacred trust and foretold the wrong weather, causing absolute chaos in the streets when thousands of people didn't carry umbrellas in a thunderstorm.

He snapped out of it as the red light blinked on.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there is no weather tomorrow."

The very cameramen gasped in their places. What could this mean? He sensed them saying to eachother, with the cameraman's special brand of silent communication. Has he gone mad?

I continued, "I have analyzed the weather patterns as usual, only to find a rather unusual answer to my scientific rites. There will be NO WEATHER tomorrow."

It was true of course. I had often and often considered lying to the world, to see what would happen, but this was not one of those times. The cold front moving in would vanish, the warm front would dissipate, the winds would die down, the humidity would equalize.

"Yes dear viewers. It seems that tomorrow, Tuesday June 26th, the world will end. I would like to take this opportunity to bid farewell to all of you who have encouraged and given my work meaning for so many years, trustfully carrying that umbrella into the sunlit mornings, only to be justified by a rainy afternoon"

"I believe in the Bible there is some mention of the end of the world, and how it relates to the weather, telling you that if you are caught in the fields to return not for your coat. I echo this advice.

"You heard it here first folks."

 Flares by Will Tolkien

Rain pelted down, and a faint murmur of thunder filled the clouds far above. She shivered and shifted her position slightly, careful not to rustle the stiff grass. Her hair was dripping in her face, and she yearned to lift a hand and brush it aside so she could see. But she could not move—not a muscle. Hold very, very still. Don’t even breath. That was what they had always told her. Very still, and you won’t be seen. They listen for you, so you have to be quiet.

Before her, the ground sloped upward into a low rise, and then fell back into the flat, empty plain. But the plain was not empty.

The sound of the drumbeat was steady in her ears, drowning out the sound of the rain. Her heart leapt with the rhythm of it, and she shivered more with fear than with the cold. They had told her to be careful. All her life they had told her. Her father had told her that…and now she was caught. Caught in broad daylight, on the open field. Now only the sparse grass and the gray shade of her clothing could hide her. She was helpless. Alone.

Beyond the rise, she could hear it moving—the metallic rasp of limbs, the crunch of long spindle legs. She had only caught a brief glimpse. She couldn’t even visualize it now. No one ever could. It had been such a shock, coming over the hill, feeling the rain cool on her face, the crunch of the burnt grass. It had only been a short walk from the encampment, not far.

But then the shape had loomed before her, and the drums sounded out, and she had hit the ground so hard it drove the breath from her lungs. She was sure some of the grass-blades had punctured her skin. They were like knives, but she had to bear it. Maybe it would miss her…maybe it would go away…

The drumbeat was starting to get to her. A steady increase of panic. She couldn’t tell if it was coming from the thing beyond the hill or somewhere else. What if there were two? Her teeth were clenched so hard they ached.

Thoughts and ideas began to race through her mind. Visions of the horrors that might await her. She wondered who was drumming. What tireless hands beat that steady rhythm? Were they human? Machine? No one knew what happened when They took you. For centuries it had been that way, and still no one knew.

It was getting dark, she thought, but that couldn’t be right. Not yet, unless she had really been laying her that long…she couldn’t tell. The rain was steady. She was soaked through, and her limbs were caked in mud. Still the sound of the thing went on behind the rise. She was tempted to lift her head, just a little, just a glimpse. Maybe she would do it—end this torture. Look the thing in the eye and—

—No. That was not the way to end it. She thought of her father. She saw his face in her mind’s eye. He loved her. She would not give herself up.

Suddenly she remembered the flare-gun. It was in a side-pocket of her trousers, safely tucked away. Her father had given it to her. It was no weapon, though. It was a signal. She couldn’t use it…but all the same, it comforted her to know that it was there.

Thunder broke out overhead, and she realized that the clouds were growing very dark. The storm would worsen soon. Maybe it would drown out the drumbeat. That would be a mercy. She couldn’t take much more. Her heart beat fast, and her breath steamed as she exhaled. She strained her eyes upward, trying once again to catch a glimpse of the thing that hunted her. Nothing but brown grass, and darkening sky beyond. Nothing but—

Sudden lightning lit up the sky before her, and the hillside leapt into stark silhouette as the thunder crashed. She twitched, and her heart pounded in her throat at the sight of the black, spindle-thin form that loomed suddenly above her.

In an instant she was up and running, splashing, sliding down the hill. Her breath tore in her throat. It had found her. It had found her. She fumbled at her side-pocket, fumbled for the flare-gun. It was her only chance. Her only chance!

But then she slipped, sprawled on her face in the sucking mud. She heard it behind her. It was coming. It was right above her!

She rolled instinctively, arm outstretched, and the flare gun leapt in her hand as she squeezed the trigger. Red light blossomed from the blunt nozzle, and then she was suddenly blind, eyes burning in the crimson brightness, struggling desperately to rise.

The gun fell from her hand as something seized her foot in a grip like iron, and she screamed loud and long as the flare blazed up over the darkling field, arched, and petered out.

And then, nothing. The rain, and the thunder, and the drums beat on.

 Weather By Andrew Velox

Lightning flashed across the sky, cracking the dark abyss of the midnight sky if only for a moment. Thunder followed, rumbling loudly, the sound reverberating through the ground. The rain fell, first just a single drop, then two. The duo multiplied into dozens and hundreds. Thousands of small globules of water crashed to the earth. Puddles began to form. Rivers and lakes began to swell. The torrent was unending, unrelenting.

Another white dagger pierced the sky followed again by the thundering roar resounding in my ear. For the briefest of moments I could see the silhouette of a tree as the light struck from the clouds to the earth. The charcoal ceiling became darker and darker as more and more droplets fell.

I spread my arms out toward the heavens, the beads of water pattering down upon my clothes and face and hands, rendering my hooded cloak worthless. I embraced the rain, and soon my whole body was soaked. A flash behind me, another growl of thunder. The reverberation seemed to flow right through my entire being, my heart pounding faster and faster and harder and harder with each new rumble. I had never felt so alive.

I gripped the staff in my hand even tighter, the ball on the end of the black rod crackling with energy, visible electricity coursing through the entire orb. I held it higher and the lightning met with the electrified orb, the energy flowing from the rod to my body.

I began to rise into the air, the midnight voltage surrounding me, the sheer energy lifting me up. For the first time since the storm started, I looked back down at the man still on the ground before me. My piercing blue eyes glowed brighter than ever as I faced the eyes of my attacker, now not as confident as he once was.

I kept my gaze and began to form a ball of electric energy in my hand.“The weather is mine,” I thundered as I released the attack.