Short one shot I thought of a long time ago. Thought I might as well upload it now before I forget.
The colors that day.
If you only looked up for a second you would only see red.
I had time to waste.
The blood red,burning sky with purple sprinkled in the background. If it wasn't an omen of death it would have been lovely. Might of painted a picture. Clouds were no more,white would not ruin this perfect sky. Blackness was creeping up over the sun. Next time you can see the death of the sun and rise of the night notice how it stalks every last shard of light to its death. It is glorious.
Blackness in the right light can look purple. Purple can turn the world to black.
They're coming for me. Reaching down from their massive ships to steal my life. To kill is their sole mission, the ones before them didn't finish up. That is how I can tell you this. I was always a spiritual man. The last of my squadron left alive actually.
I remember the blinding blue, like a Christmas blue, bright and dark at the same time as it blasted my chest, echoing through my body.
Sadly I did not die. I was sure they knew I wasn't dead but did their black souls care? No. So I was left alone to wither and die in the world that was crumbling around me.
Which is why I'm taking notice to the ground now. My friends are dead, being held by that ground.
But I can't see them. The plasma that killed me came from a Ghost, which decided to explode in various colors around me.
Blocking my view.
I could however notice a tuft of grass that had fought to keep alive among the death. How sad it was that they were going to die along with me. I stretched what was left of my arm over to it.
I could feel the courage coming from the tiny green plant.
It looked so bad, cold brown earth stood out against the lovely Easter green. My favorite green. But which would engulf my carcass when I died? The earth or the blinding light of the enemy glassing the planet that we fought so hard to keep but failed in the end?
The last thing I saw was an image of color and hope. A Spartan was picking his way over the ground. His smoky black armor stood out against the bright blue and red blood that spattered the ground. I could tell by what he was holding it something important. I knew that the war would end because of whatever that Spartan was holding.
Then I saw it.
A silver package glimmered like a happy blue flame against the armor of the Spartan. And so with that image I gave my last breath,clutching the still alive grass in my hand.
Green, red, blue, and silver were the last colors I saw in this world. If hope were a color it would be silver. But our hope is now in the hands of that Noble Spartan.
May he succeed for us all.