Chereads / Gehrman Sparrow's Literary Works / Chapter 3 - The plane that travelled to another world

Chapter 3 - The plane that travelled to another world

(A random descriptive)

Chirp~ Chirp~

The Sounds of birds chirping and the faint hissing of snakes pierced the slow-moving fog. A chasm as deep as a void beckoned, amidst the mammoth trees, the flora and fauna. Above the chasm was a broken colossal structure, with rigid wings like a bird and sharpened talons at its hind. The plane, riddled with scratches and scrapes still retained its glimmer and lustrous shine. The structure looming over the abyssal chasm was held shackled in an inverted position by serpentine vines which grew into it, binding it. 

The hollow hole below it, so unfathomably deep resonated with a growl. The animalistic sound created by water meters deep, made it seem as if the hole was salivating, unable to eat the prey so close by. The windows were left with razor-sharp broken glass and the interior was covered with soft, velvety moss forming fur-like walls. 

Slim, lean skeletons lay unfazed with tilted heads and seated with a relaxed demeanor, hoisted by oxygen masks clinging to their skulls, pulling it. Their boredom, reflected by their hollow eyes.  They had a certain ivy-colored shine reflecting off of them. The moss got to them too. 

Seeds of life grew from symbols of death as leaves were occasionally found around the corpses, growing in little crevices around the seats. 

The wet, moist and heavy air enhanced the mystery of verdant surroundings. Reptilian creatures slithered down the vines followed by all sorts of baboons, shrieking and screaming, signaling their foray onto the 'necro-hub' of the now-dead species. Each visit meant that they encroached further into the plane, howling and screeching at their dead distant cousins. 

Outlandish plants filled the landmass up to the brim. Multicolored hues reflected off of wet grass. Monochromatic grey mushrooms grew at the base of tree trunks as lemon-colored hives stuck to the corners of branches, looming over minuscule mountains of fire ants erupting from within. Linear streams of crimson-colored ants could be seen climbing different trees. 

The land, so densely populated, thriving with life, was an abomination, a product of a fusion of countless ecosystems, isolated on an island in the midst of a water desert. 

The shore was the only place where the sunlight was directly visible. Waves descended back as little critters emerged from the sand. Bubbles popped up from within the fine particles, the air from within rising up to the symbol-engraved cave high above. 

A looping wire connected to a box-like structure kept playing the same recordings again and again, forming a sort of jolly melody from the pilot's last words - "Goodnight, goodbye and all the best!" 

The handful few who survived sought refuge, estranged on an unidentifiable island. They had to repopulate the island. Years later, fast-moving, swinging creatures dashed around the island hopping from tree to tree, plucking birds out of the air, seeming as if mutated, seeming as if evolved. They had to rebuild civilization, slowly, very slowly. 

"Everything, in time."