Tornado Hits Lanesborough
The winning piece of creative writing from James A following on from Nick Cook's workshop during Book Week.
Thick, swirling mist hauled its way across the meadowland, gnawing its path to smithereens. Men and women frantically scurried across the undulating ground, their dazzled eyes, cold white in fear. Children stood there, shivering in terror as the blood-thirsty beast lugged its unwieldy body over to its next victim… namely Lanesborough, the innocent prep school for boys.
The tornado engulfed houses and streets by the dozens, and stole many lives in its livid rage. Gouging and ripping through the back gateway, the tornado soared through the sky, into the main building. It enveloped walls and paintings, to feed its ravenous, rumbling stomach once again.
Dusk came, and the tornado had not stopped; its jaw gripped a small patch of netting, which tore into pieces before its mouth. The tornado fought furiously throughout the rest of the night until Lanesborough was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly, the fire within the ferocious beast dimmed until mere embers were left. The demonic destruction had finally ended.