Everything was burning.
The air was thick with smoke, and reeked of ash and death. If you had as good a nose as the native creatures, you could smell the fear that permeated the area.
Beasts of black sand charged through the air, barreling over anyone in their way, crushing their skulls when they hit the ground. Brain matter slicked the ground, slipping the once-sure feet of the great Pookan Warriors.
All their senses were assaulted. They couldn't think, could only fight. They could smell little besides the smoke, ash, death and fear. They couldn't smell the creatures attacking them. They could only hear the shrieks of the wounded and the dying. The Nightmares and Shadow Men that attacked did so without sound. Their eyes watered from the smoke of the burning huts and buildings, eyesight blurry and unfocused. The dark sand melded well with the smoke and seemed to strike from nowhere. They didn't dare open their mouths for fear of being choked to death by an errant clump of sand – it had happened to one, it could happen to many. The vibrations to their great feet that they relied on were dulled by the ooze, and the things flew through the air, making no vibrations.
It was chaos.
A shadow-shrouded man floated high above the massacre, his gray-face covered in a Cheshire grin. Finally! Fi~nally! The great Winter Pooka were falling beneath his shadow fist! They had resisted his siege the longest, delaying his attack on the Spring Pooka, but now they were falling!
The tribe, only hours before, before he had come, had numbered in the hundreds, almost thousands. He had taken out almost half of them, most of them males or females on border duty, or working the menial jobs of the Tribe, in his sudden surprise attack. They had grown used to life surrounded by his Shadow Men and Nightmares, stuck in a siege with them. So, they had paid little attention when the shadows had begun to shift – a foolish, fatal mistake. His army had charged, killing them before they could sound the alarm.
He had continued the attack, and when the other Pooka had seen him, all who were of fighting age that wasn't with kit had charged out to fight. The heavy-bellied mothers had hurried the kits through the tunnels to the nursery, where they sat huddled around them, ready to fight to the death for their kits.
Of course, it had been for naught. He had known the location of the nursery, and had dispatched a platoon of Nightmares and Nightmare Men to take care of them. They had been some of the first to die.
During the whole fight, he hadn't had to lift a finger. The great Pooka had been slaughtered by his henchmen, causing them little trouble. It was almost too easy! The Winter Pooka, who had withstood his siege the longest, had withstood his attack the least amount of time.
As another warrior -a female, this time- fell, he began to count off the remaining Pooka.
Whump!
"Ten!"
Crack!
"Nine!"
Shlick!
"Eeeight!"
Thud!
"Seven!"
Crunch!
"Siiix!"
Splash!
"Fiiiiive!"
Splat!
"FOUR!"
Snap!
"THREEEE!"
Pop...pop...pop!
"TWOOO!"
"Ahhhhhhh-!"
"ONE!"
"No, p-please, no-!"
None.
A/N: So, yeah, I know I didn't put this under X-over, and I have a reason. I'm under the opinion that, a story should be under X-over if it contains many things/major elements from both things. However, if a story contains only a single character (or an OC made from a species) from a story/show/ etc., it shouldn't go under X-over. So... yeah.