The arms that the people of the town wielded, had threatened to destroy them all.
Over the years, what once had been taken for granted as simple tools had developed a sinister aspect. As if the arms of the people that once had protected the village, were now plotting against the townspeople themselves.
They all began to dream the same dream, of the towns arms rising up on their own, wreaking their terrible strength and deadly force against every innocent and undefended man, woman, and child without mercy.
Every morning, as each of them dressed, they looked with suspicion at what should seem so normal, knowing that the very weapons of self-destruction were carried willingly at their sides.
A council of the town elders gathered to discuss the situation. To decide what, if anything, could be done to stop the slaughter of all who had lived here, so peacefully, for so long.
There was argument and differing opinions shaking the walls of the town-hall that night. “Our arms are what keep us strong, defend us, and allow us to live in peace and be prosperous here these many years passed.”
An old woman cried out, “We’ve all had the dreams, you fool. We all know what’s coming for us. “ her voice hushed to a whisper but all in the hall hung on her every word, “We all heard them whispering at night, plotting in the darkness. We can all feel ‘em, waiting.”
It went back and forth this way into the night, but in the end, the old crone had swayed the majority. Together, they decided that they must cast off the arms of doom. They would destroy and bury the weapons of their coming downfall.
And so they did. All in the town were disarmed. All of the arms were cast into a pit outside the city to be shunned for all time.
Too late, the townspeople learned they had fulfilled the dire prophecy themselves. They gathered in the town church that final night, all together to comfort each other, as best they could. They would have hugged one another, if anyone had still been able to.
They listened to the arms of the town, as they crawled through the streets, then arrived, banging and clawing at the church doors.
Filed under: Short Stories
