The Last Storm

The wind howled through the empty streets, carrying with it the scent of rain that would never come. The sky, a dull shade of gray, loomed over the remains of a once-thriving city. Crumbling buildings stood like forgotten tombstones, their windows shattered, their walls cracked by time and neglect. The world had dried up, leaving nothing but dust and despair in its wake.

Leah pulled her tattered coat tighter around her as she stepped carefully over the broken pavement. She had lived in this world long enough to know that the storms were unpredictable now, and the only thing worse than the endless drought was the rare, unforgiving tempest that tore through the land with merciless fury.

She wasn’t searching for food—there was little left to scavenge. Instead, she was searching for the boy.

Rumors had spread through the wastelands of a child who could summon the rain. A boy, no older than ten, who could lift his hands to the heavens and call forth the water the earth so desperately needed. Some said he was a miracle, others a curse. Either way, Leah knew she had to find him before others did. The world was cruel, and those with power rarely remained free for long.

She found him where the old church once stood. The boy sat alone on the broken steps, his bare feet dusty, his clothes ragged. He looked up at her with eyes too wise for his years, as if he had already seen the end of the world and accepted it.

“They’re coming for you,” Leah said, keeping her voice gentle. “You need to leave.”

“I know,” the boy answered. His voice was calm, as though he had already made peace with his fate.

Leah hesitated. “I can help you. We can find a place where no one will hurt you.”

The boy shook his head. “There’s nowhere left to run.”

She wanted to argue, but deep down, she knew he was right. Still, she couldn’t just leave him.

A sudden gust of wind swept through the ruins, and Leah felt the shift in the air. The sky darkened further, heavy with something more than just the setting sun. She turned to the boy, realization dawning. “It’s you, isn’t it? You called the storm.”

His small hands clenched into fists. “I don’t want to. But they won’t stop.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Leah knew what would come next. She had seen it before—the lightning that struck without warning, the rains that fell too hard, too fast, washing away everything in their path. It was not salvation. It was destruction.

“They’ll never stop chasing you,” she said softly. “Not as long as you have this power.”

The boy’s gaze met hers, filled with something ancient, something beyond human understanding. “Then let’s end it.”

Leah felt the first drop of rain hit her cheek. She closed her eyes, knowing that this storm would be the last.