“Seashell of Prophecy”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

Prompt: Seashell.

“Seriously? A seashell?”

I stare at the little object in front of me. I just can’t believe that something so small and insignificant could bring about the end of the world.

Matt shrugs, his eyes also fixed on the shell.

“That’s what the prophecy said,” he says, as if everything’s suddenly supposed to make sense now.

“Come on, do you really still believe in that stupid prophecy?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

He frowns at me. “Of course. I don’t understand why you’ve given up on it.”

I jab a finger at the seashell. “Because look at what it led us to. Ten months, Matt. Ten months! All for this useless little thing!”

“You’re wrong,” he says. He bends down and plucks the seashell from the sand. “Maybe we’ve just got the wrong one.”

As he examines the shell, I shake my head and begin walking away. There’s no point arguing with him about the prophecy; he’s so hopelessly devoted to it that I don’t think even his mom could convince him that he’s on a wild goose chase.

Suddenly, there’s a loud bang behind me. I spin around to see Matt lying motionless in the sand.

I scream his name as I run to him. I fling myself down on the sand beside him and shake him desperately.

His eyes are open, but he doesn’t respond. I continue shaking him, hitting him, begging him to get up.

He doesn’t.

I collapse on top of him. He can’t be gone. He just can’t be.

A bright flash catches my eye. The seashell. It’s still clutched in his hand, but now it’s glowing.

Without thinking, I rip the shell from Matt’s hand and slam it down into the sand. Then, for good measure, I stomp on it. I scream at it and curse at it until my energy’s all gone.

When I finally raise my foot, the seashell is just a fine powder, blended into the sand.

I sit down heavily and take Matt’s hand. It’s already becoming cold.

As I sit with him, I begin to feel something moving. The sand.

No, the ground.

Movement catches my eye. I turn to the spot where I’d stomped on the seashell.

The sand is moving, sliding downward. It’s falling into a funnel.

A funnel that leads to the center of the planet.

It’s too late for me to move now, and if Matt’s prophecy was right, then there’s no point in me trying to run anyway.

I look down at Matt and murmur, “Why do you always have to be right?”

I squeeze his hand as the world swallows me.

Final Comments: I wish I was at a beach right now…

Overall Rating: 😌