Hawk - A Dream Inspired Short

The silence of the early morning in the centre of Old Barcelona is interrupted by a low grumble.
The streets are empty as they often are in the early hours of the morning, not in an eerie way but in a peaceful one.

The _ground shakes, ever so slightly.

You look up past the Monument a Cristòfor Colom to see the source of the expediting rumbling - it's enormous wingspan, hundreds of miles high in the air, a machine of war which dwarfed any plane you've seen before. It blended in with the early morning sky, barely visible.

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Struck with awe and unable to move, you watch the metal bird rip and crack through the brittle air above you.

And then, a clank as a smaller object dropped and dove gracefully from the plane just as a bird of prey after spotting it's lunch.

It twisted, span and glided through the air like an Olympic ballerina trying their hand at skydiving. It would be beautiful if it's trajectory didn't deem it's landing place so close to where you're stood.

The metallic pill was still so far away, it'd be hard to tell if it was the size of a truck or a man. One thing was for sure though; it was navigating closer and closer. Small thrusters on the sides pointed and angled it to circle round and round until it was flying horizontal to the ground, and heading in your direction.

Just as it passed overhead, when the threat has seemingly moved on - another, smaller metallic missile drops from the hull. Again with the mesmerising air dance, only this time, it's dangerously close.

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You've had it before, right? Where you're frozen with fear?

When a hunch becomes a fact and the shock throws all logical thought out the window, your lizard brain taking full control.

That's what you feel when you know that missile is after you, you're no longer a spectator. It might just be a machine but you can feel the intelligence in control as it closes in on you.

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Is there even point in running? You know this technology is more than one person could ever outsmart in their brief last seconds.

The missile splits into three - they circle you like stereotypical hungry sharks.

Maybe it's best to accept your fate, you were never the type to run. You could have the most beautiful death ever; sniped by the most advanced technology in the galaxy, maybe even in existence - while stood in one of the most serene, and cultured cities in the world - and not a soul to witness it.

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