Glimmers of sunlight broke through the dense canopy, casting golden beams of heaven into the glade. Nestled between the trees, the small meadow was a haven for those forest dwellers who enjoy the touch and warmth of the sun. The breath of the spirits who own this domain enticed the wild flowers to rise from their beds and dance.
A family of muntjacs grazed on the quaking grass, wearily alert to the giant stag prowling its territory. Bird song filled the air providing an orchestral working tune for the massed fleet of bees hunting for precious pollen.
An ever-used prophecy of sudden change, the bird song stopped. The muntjacs, a skittish breed at the calmest of times, took notice and flight first. The stag, King of the Forest creatures, ran like a loosed arrow through the trees. As the temperature dropped rapidly, the bees fled next, retreating to their catacomb hives ready to die in defence of their Queen. The air became a freezing fog, trapping the waltzing flowers in its Medusa gaze, no longer belonging to the ancient spirits of the forest realms.
Bitterly, and not without fight, the sun was the last to depart the glade. Darkness replaced the depleting light, as it felt was its divine right, for darkness is older than all creation.
The silence was broken by the rending of the earth. Soil, rock, and living matter fell into oblivion as a chasm was torn open. Rising out of the blackness, a monstrous being silhouetted by the darkness itself, clawed its way into this mortal realm.
Mocking laughter echoed throughout the forest, chorused across the world. The end times are here. The battle for life has begun.