It was a cold stormy night, with wind wailing through the empty branches, the trunks yielding north under the pressure.
Cold, hard rain pelted the ground in odd spots, and there was also the constant banging of the back gate, which some one had left open, banging back and forth against the near by objects.
Inside the only light was that of a fire which crackled and sparked,and in the other room, a little boy under covers, flashlight in his hand, tongue sticking out slightly as he colored in the hero he was drawing.
Max was very proud of this particular piece, the hero was big and strong, with shining blue armor and a gleaming sword.
His parents had told him to go to bed but the hero just HAD to be finished first, the excitement of it all is what even kept him up this late.
"Elena, somethings not right." The deep voice of his Father came from the hall.
Max stuck his head up from under the covers to listen.
"Do you think we should check?" His mother asked.
"Yes, I do, come on."
Curious now to see what his parents were doing this late at night Max rolled out of his bed, stuck his feet in his tiger slippers, and crept toward the door.
Listening again he heard the backdoor shut and hurried to follow.
From the window he watched his parents, first fixing the unlatched gate, then making their way out to the field behind the house.
Max watched them with furrowed brows till he climbed down off the couch he had used to see and reached up to open the door himself.
Wind nearly knocked him off his feet as he stepped out onto the back porch, the porch swing jolting and rocking, the wind chimes tangled and in a mess.
He wanted to go back inside but, now he didn't want to be alone.
Max hurried after his parents, the rain had stopped...and turned into hail.
Nevertheless Max pressed onward, stumbling a little before he reached a point where he could see them.
Standing out there as lightning crashed his mom and dad were facing the direction of the storm, or was it?
It looked like a tornado. Max screamed at his parents to come back but it was lost to the howling wind.
The tornado drew closer and closer, thick and dark, spinning impossibly fast.
His dad was holding something, but Max couldn't see.
The twisters movement was fast and steady toward his parents, then just as Max called out, they were swept up in the torrent.
The tornado then turned toward Max, and he clicked on the flashlight.
The tornado, had eyes.
Hope you enjoyed, my goal is to post more once a week based on the following.
The story will hereafter be written in role-play form.