The light shone through the vehicle's glass windows, magnifying the intensity of the sun's rays. If one were to set their arm in it a sensation of mild burning pain would embed itself in their skin - as if the sky was reaching out a clenched hand for company. It wasn't terrible, though every fiber of your arm would mutter a protest of the inevitable sun burn if it was allowed to continue. As far as sensations went, Andrew had felt worse.
"Worse" in term of Andrew Barlow's immediate sensations was the nearly mile long highway jam that he and his vehicle had found themselves in. The anxiety, tedium, and frustration was worse than the threat of sunburn. And while he felt a pang of empathy for whatever poor soul had somehow managed to make a line so long he couldn't even see the cause from his current position, his selfish human nature was wrapped up in the ramifications of this delay. Would he have to call his work? Should he do it now or in 10 minutes? He tended to show up early to work, would he make it in time if he waited it out?
He probably mused over this for the better part of the last 5 minutes, flexing his hand absentmindedly over his dashboard in the refracted light of the mid day sun just to take in the warm sensation. Storm clouds gathered in the horizon, the unusual purplish deep grey clouds in the distance threatened to bring rain to the queue of cars and the muggy humidity that precipitated a torrential downpour would have made the situation all the more grating, were it not for the mercy of the vehicle's air conditioning.
The first drop of water hit the windshield, a satisfying and brief rap - like the clouds had tapped the car in introduction as it attempted to push the sun from its meeting with Andrew. A second followed shortly after, followed by a third after a fraction of time less.
The distant noise of rain playing in the trees couldn't be heard over the low thrum of engines idling on the highway, but that quickly changed as the first sheet of rain was pulled over the stretch of asphalt Andrew Barlow was caught on. The sound was intense and all encompassing. Like the water was intent on not only saturating the ground, but the very air it rode on as the torrent steadily picked up in intensity.
The rain quickly escalated from encompassing, to oppressive, to unrelentingly tyrannical. Rain pelting the car with the kind of impact reserved for a stone shot from a sling - like buckets being dropped by the heavenly host from on high. The thought of trying to make a call in this ceaseless den seemed laughable enough, were it not for his realization upon pulling out his cell phone that he had no reception whatsoever. And of course, as if on queue, that was when the storm stopped requesting Barlow's attention and instead began demanding it.
If one was unfamiliar with the phenomenon, one could be forgiven for thinking that it was a golfball that has struck their hood and spiraled away into the folds of the newly minted sea that was once open air. But as each of the marbles bounced on the roadwork outside their window, it would only become too clear that this unexpected rainstorm had become a hailstorm.
The cars on the road were assaulted by a barrage of golfball sized hail. For their size, they did relatively little to the vehicles, but the icy crack of impact was most assuredly making the more frugal drivers wince at the thought of the possible chips and dents this skyborn bombardment may result in.
Outside his windows, Andrew could discern the pine trees being whipped into a frenzy of motion by the wind and rain, the lane outside began to pool and puddle in a way that made the already sluggish travel all the more glacial. The sky's color had taken on a terrific luminosity through the rain - deep clouds of black with streaks of venomous looking purple dominated the sky and could clearly be seen through the rain peeking over the whip lashed trees on one side of the road - like a giant looking down on a line of collected toys
A chill of worry rolled down Barlow's spine as he sat trapped in his car. It wasn't the fierce hail, the torrent of rain, the evil looking sky, the foreboding wind, or even the low likelihood of mobility to get away from it all. It was something else. Like the baying of a hound before a coming earthquake, the animal part of his brain was screaming a clear warning of danger. If the other drivers felt it they showed no sign, but what was worse is that it didn't matter if they did feel it. They were all stuck. A long line of fools, ignorant or otherwise, set down in a line waiting for the nameless disaster that was about to strike.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. The rain cleared to a light sprits, the wind rolled to a low and distant moan, the engines of the cars found their voice over the previous cacophony, and the trees stopped their ominous dance. But the warning didn't go away and instead it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.
Out of curiosity, Andrew rolled down his window and craned his neck outside to get a better look without the water on the window distorting his sight. Silent lightning of a vivid teal raced helter-skelter through the ever blackening clouds. Turning his head this way and that beyond the wall of trees that flanked the highway, he saw an endless horizon of darkness, the mid-day ambient light giving the whole thing an unnatural contrast to the black sky overhead. No cars had moved, no traffic was coming from the cresting hill, one or two of the drivers had done the same as himself and peeked outside in that tentative fashion.
He exited the vehicle and peered across what appeared to be a piece of pasture that was on the passenger side of his car. A single stocky oak stood towards the middle left of the meadowland with various fallen trees dotting the property, a thin wire fence coming to around shoulder height separated the pasture from the main road - beneath the boughs of the large oak, a small herd of cattle took shelter, with the odd heifer or two crouching near one of the fallen trees. He wasn't sure why, but he felt compelled to get a closer look.
Barlow had made a choice, trying his phone one last time and finding it was no more connected than before. He hopped back into his car and pulled it off the right side of the road, closer to the meadow - one of the drivers behind him greedily pulled into the slot he vacated. He verbally chastised himself for his dangerous and irresponsible curiosity as his tires pulled him over the soggy soil and damp weeds.
"I am so dumbbbb" he grumbled in a mocking melody under his breath
Andrew shamefacedly avoided the looks of the drivers on the road as he once again hopped out of his car and into the knee high grass - truthfully, his sense of shame was more a fabrication of his own mind than any societal pressure but he didn't think that made a man on the side of the road during hurricane weather look any more sensible. The ground beneath him didn't give much under his weight, which was comforting as he was worried his car would get stuck due to the rain. Nimbly he loped through the tall grass and down the side of the dell on the roadside - dodging and sometimes failing to dodge the various depressions in the dirt which nearly caused him to twist his ankle. More than once he winced with a familiar pain as sticker plants brushed against his legs - the spiny seeds poking through the cloth of his pant legs like sinister little needles. Until after a brief stent, he arrived at the wire fence.
The enclosure was set into the ground with weathered wooden poles that were comprised mostly of splinters, a simple welded wire fencing - likely bought in bulk by either a farmer or the contractor in the farmer's employ - was stretched from post to post with large rusted staples securing the barrier to the timber. The thing was now overgrown with weedy vines and consumed by oxidation - Barlow was all but certain that if he drew blood touching the barrier he would most certainly contract tetanus.
As Andrew approached, one of the cows sheltering near the closest fallen tree lifted its head to observe him. It was a beautiful animal, in the farm yard kind of way, black fur with glistening onyx eyes flecked with the crust of many sleepy days and a moist muzzle characteristic to a healthy heifer.
"Hi cow" said Barlow absently with a playful wave.
The cow batted its eyes and swished at flies with its tail. If it was meant as a greeting, it didn't bridge the language barrier.
Andrew wasn't sure if the chest high fence was electric, as such he kept a minimum of six inches from it as he looked across the still meadowlands. He wasn't sure why, but the sky somehow seemed to be getting darker still with a radius of near pitch black cloud over his stint of road and the surrounding environment. The dark radius was still flecked with the barely perceptible streaks of violent violet and the occasional charge of teal electricity worked its way silently through the clouds. At the edge of the meadow, the dark radius seemed to taper off, but further out, more black circles of clouds could be seen. No - not quite circles. Ovals. And the dark areas extended up into the sky in a conical manner like a thunderhead in the distance.
"Looks like ternado weather" called a drawling voice above the rustling trees - Andrew started, he was so preoccupied that he hadn't even seen the man on his right approach.
The man trudged through the grass with considerable ease - he was an older fellow, Barlow guessed around 50, and he was easily a good six and a half feet. Where the shorter Andrew had to give a modest jump to make easy progress, for this man it was as easy as walking on a manicured lawn. He was wearing a white tank top, khaki shorts, a brown leather belt, brown sandals with laced leather straps, and a cheap grass woven hat - not a genuine one though, more alike to something you would buy on discount from your local corporate retailer.
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The man himself was shaped like and awkwardly written capital B: his face didn't have a double chin, so much as a bump where the chin was in anatomical theory, from there it connected seamlessly to an inflated throat that reminded Barlow of a pelican and was nearly as big as the man's head. Grey and white stubble haphazardly grew down the expanse of the man's chin-throat until it met with a rat's nest of wiry shock white hair on his chest. While the man had a large belly, it was of the sort that it seemed to extend up into his chest with both barreling out in a uniform manner instead of conventional flab or the comical beer belly.
The man's skin, as denoted by his flat and saggy arms and comparatively thin and knobby legs, were of a burnt flesh tone - like a peach set aflame and doused a few times. As though his skin was used to the idea of long days in the sun with all the splotches and damage that come of it. It was use to it, but it did not like it one bit and it would not have surprised Andrew even a little if the man had lasting health problems from it.
Lastly, was his face - it was a sunken but happy face. Like a deflated balloon. The skin was not truly wrinkled, but it was clear to see the strain that age and life had put on his features. His nose was arched and crooked, with slight pits in the bulbous tip of his nasal, his ears were large and covered with thin strands of hair. The sides of his temples were shaven white strips, suggesting that under the hat, there was not much hair left to speak of. His lips were thin and his cheeks were sunken - making his face look even smaller when compared to his pelican pouch. Last of all were his eyes, laughing black specks in shaded sockets, which Andrew could only describe as "neighborly".
The man chortled good naturally to the pricks of the sticker plants, his flip-flops and shorts doing nothing to protect him and casually tossing out mild curses as he shuffled through an apparently nasty patch of them. He had parked an overtly large white truck about a dozen yards back and in that fashion of older gentlemen was apparently on his way to share some sage wisdom with young Andrew - at least, as close to sage wisdom as the pelican-throated man had to offer.
"Hey there, young feller" he started with an aged rural drawl, smacking his lips, and sucking in air like he was inflating himself to stay upright. He waved a hand absently as he talked, gesturing to nothing and everything at the same time - his fingers thick gnarled stumps of melanoma. "Looks like ternado weather. If I were you I'd turn yer car around and go home - ye don' wanna be on the road when a ternado hits an' - "
Barlow was only half listening, his eyes were set on the oval thunderheads and the edge of their own dark radius. He wasn't trying to ignore the man, the pelican man was very obviously trying to help, but Andrew was lost in thought. The wind was blowing harder now and snatched away most of the pelican man's words anyway.
"You know a lot about Tornados?" Asked Andrew feigning interest with his best "customer service" smile. Out of politeness he kept himself faced towards the gentleman to give the impression he was internalizing his words, but he constantly shifted his gaze towards the pasture and the horizon beyond, looking for something - though he wasn't sure what.
"- that was when I was up in Connecticut an' - " The pelican man had been going on for a few minutes, the words largely bled together for Andrew - going in one ear and out the other - when suddenly he stopped, snapped his fingers and pointed behind and to the right of Barlow's shoulder with a stuttering gesture. To the far left of the pasture where a distant phone tower shared the horizon with the trees, a slender black line could be seen descending from one of the black oval thunderheads and disappearing behind the treeline.
"That! That's what I was talkin' about!" Exclaimed the pouch faced man "Get out of 'ere young man" he said turning his back and hastily headed back to his truck - realizing how much time he had wasted jawing.
A quick glance at the road showed that some of the cars stuck in the jam had taken the same advice - or at least had the same thought as the old man - and were turning around. The road wasn't uncongested yet, but the street was getting much freer. Andrew looked at the line beyond the trees - it looked very much like a tornado in the distance. But something was off - it was too dark and too "solid".
Outpacing the old man, he went to his car and popped the trunk - after a moment he fished out a pair of old binoculars that he kept for bird watching and ran back to his viewing spot. It took a bit of adjusting as he wasn't sure of the distance - the rainy mist from the clouds above afixed itself to the lenses and had to be cleared off a couple times before he could see properly.
I will tell you, not one time in his life after this moment had Andrew been so utterly terrified as what he was seeing here and now. His knees felt weak and his heart seized up as it crawled into his throat. His brain screaming how wrong his eyes must have been. How he was imagining things. But he knew he was not. And he was all but certain that if he allowed himself to pass out from the shock of what he was witnessing he would never wake up.
Yes, the thunderhead and the oval were clouds but the long cylindrical shape that descended from them was not. A great purplish sheen flashed across the black cylinder, revealing a diamond hatching pattern of a brilliant confluence. Barlow's mind raced, trying desperately to place what material could possibly be so large to extend up into the sky - during a storm no less. Looking for any man made process that could reasonably explain what he was seeing - he never got the chance to fool himself.
Dropping the binoculars for but a moment to wipe the condensation off of them again, Andrew saw another cylinder slowly reach down from a thunderhead to the right of the first one from across the pasture. Bringing the binoculars sharply up, he saw the thing that would haunt his nightmares until his dying day.
Andrew had always had a love of animals - even the most terrifying insects held a kind of charm, though you would never convince him to handle something like that. But of all the things that graced God's kingdom, it was the creatures of the deepest parts of the sea that enthralled his attentions the most. The angler fish, the giant squid, and cosmic jellyfish were among his personal favorites, but there was one more that had always scared the daylights out of him when he saw it in pictures: the black dragonfish. A small eel-like fish with large saber teeth for catching prey and two milky eyes.
The creature that now descended from the heavens reminded Andrew of the black dragonfish. In truth, the creature looked nothing like the animal - but it had enough of the characteristics that a passing comparison was inevitable. What shocked him most of all was not the sheer size of the creature, or the startling manner in which it appeared (as if those were not enough) but its great white eye - a single glowing silver pupil with a beady black dot filled with hate peered over the meadow and vanished behind the trees. He knew it hadn't noticed him, but that eye seemed to look right through him.
Turning, Barlow looked to the old man as he reached his truck and was ready to hop in - he ran towards the man waving his hands. Maybe the man would see something different? Maybe he was wrong and was hallucinating from stress - the old man was the closet person to hand and he needed someone to tell him he wasn't seeing things right!
As Andrew ran, he looked out across the pasture, the other dark thunderheads began to disgorge more of those same Violet-Black Dragons - all at varying sizes and distances but only ever one to a thunderhead. Somewhere far away, screams carried on the wind followed by multiple gunshots, followed yet again by a terrible unearthly shriek that rang out like a warning siren.
Out of instinct, Barlow swiveled his head towards the people on the highway. A young couple having a frantic conversation and pointing out their passenger side window and over Andrew's head. Whether they somehow saw what he saw, Andrew had no way to tell, but they were clearly aware of the danger - tornado or otherwise.
Just as Barlow reached the old man's vehicle - the old man still absently working with something inside the cab of his car - a terrible and chilling thought overcame him. It was a simple thought - one he would have considered were he not trying to find someone to tell him he was wrong. He tapped the trucks window and jutted his view to the sky above looking like a small animal that was about to have some giant step on him. And that's when he saw it.
As the pelican man rolled down his window to admonish Andrew for not leaving yet, Andrew found himself staggering backwards in shock and alarm at the happening he knew on some level to be the next logical occurrence. As the pelican man followed the young man's gaze, the sight nearly caused him to scream were it not that his gasp of surprise had so completely stunned him. In fact, he was so startled that had he not recently changed his diet, more leafy greens and fewer taco salads, his poor state of health combined with the shock of what he was viewing would have almost assuredly caused him a heart attack. As it stood, that was still on the table with the horrible truth he and Barlow now had descending on them.
The word "giant" did not accurately describe the great toothy maw that drank in the sky above as its long mountainous teeth punctured the clouds. "Monstrous" was a decent attempt, but it failed to convey the sheer diameter of the pitch black gullet that loomed over the highway or the new horizon of teeth that now contrasted the curvature of the Earth. "Massive" thought Andrew as he scrambled back to his car at breakneck pace for the safety of reinforced metal and airbags, was a much more fitting term to use - as it conjured images of planets and celestial bodies. Devastating meteors and deadly tsunamis. But as he thudded the door behind him and frantically snapped his seatbelt across his body, watching as the falling fangs blocked out the last rays of light a more fitting term still came to mind. Two words: "Terrifyingly Vast".
The tremor caused by the beast's mouth crashing into the earth shook the cars and wracked the trees with a catastrophic gale. The automobiles jostled on the spot, some sounding their alarms - some of the smaller ones were whipped to their side, or pushed against one another. Trees snapped, power lines sparked in the new darkness, the cows in the meadow outside huddled together, eyes wide with terror, as the humans braced themselves for death. Those with gods prayed, for themselves and their families, those without prayed too.
Andrew clutched at his seatbelt, trying to distract himself from the terrible sounds and wild force out in the darkness. Then just as quickly as the sounds and force had come, they stopped - the automatic headlights of some of the vehicles cut through the gloom and shared slivers of the devastation wrought by the crash. A eerie drone took to the air, barely audible through a brace of blaring alarms, the spark of powerlines, and the occasional moo from the cattle outside. And there the line of drivers all sat - afraid and isolated in the dark.