Cataclysm

The sky was bright and blue, with birds chirping in the air, a couple of fluffy clouds lazily drifting by, and a gentle breeze blowing through Tana's hair. It was a beautiful day out, and it brought a smile to Tana's face. One of the birds that was flying looked down at him curiously and flew down to land on his shoulder. It was one of those little moments in nature that only happened in movies, and Tana smiled and reached up to run a finger gently across its brow. The bird chirped brightly once before its already cold corpse fell to the ground.

These were Tana's favorite kinds of days. The bright and beautiful ones that made people happy. He loved to wipe them away. To rip that happiness away from people, see the terror and pain in their eyes in their final moments. There was something just so thrilling about seeing the life extinguished out of a person's eyes, like putting out the light of a candle between one's fingers. The satisfaction of controlling a person's life, and them being unable to do anything about it. It was intoxicating.

Suitable that this day would be such a one. Tana had grown tired of going after individuals, snuffing them out one by one. It was still enjoyable, surely, but the thrill of it all was fading. He needed something bigger. Something grander. To wipe out life faster than ever before, and to feel that rush as more lives than he could count were gone in an instant. And that need, that desire, had lead him to a land untouched by the likes of man. It had been no small feat to travel to this land, though for him, it had perhaps not been so much a struggle as it would have been for a lesser.

He looked out over the grass covered hills at the massive tree in the distance. The stuff of legends. A massive tree called Yggdrasil by some, whose roots extended out through the entirety of the earth to form its crust. On its branches and from its bark, all life drew breath, and its very existence was enough to inspire songs for generations. This was his target now. If taking the lives of man was not, he would take the lives of an entire planet in a single instance.

On black wings he soared over the land, leaving a harshly burning scar behind him. There was nothing but death in his wake, just the way he liked it. And soon there would be nothing but death. He would slowly drain the tree of life of it's life, and watch as everything that had ever been on this planet went with it. He would glee in its suffering.

And there was nothing and no one who could stop him.