The Fifth Trumpet: A Child Shall Lead Them to Ruin

The Fifth Trumpet

Evermore, a small quiet village, was covered in thick snow that formed a soft white layer on top of the roofs. Children played outside the church doors, their happy laughter like wind chimes in the cold breeze. Among them stood one boy, though, quietly watching.

Elian was his name;

his origins were a mystery.

There was no record of his adoption, no missing child report, no trace of parents—only him, wrapped in dark clothes, showing up on the church steps one morning as though the storm had placed him there.

Pastor Michael Hayes found him.

First, the pastor presumed the youngster had been abandoned . He contacted hospitals, law enforcement, and social services, but nobody stepped forward to claim him. Elian stayed quiet, just watching with those startling silver eyes that appeared to delve deep into one's very being.

Michael and his wife Claire eventually decided to take him in . It seemed like the correct thing to do; the locals loved their kindness. Their selflessness was honored by the church congregation. Life appeared quiet for a while.

Till it changed.

Signs and Shadows

It started small.

The Hayes’ dog, Moses, began barking at Elian's door every night. Then one morning, he was found hanging from the rafters of the barn.

"Suicide," joked Deputy Keller, until the vet confirmed the dog had been strangled.

The power began flickering inside the church. Crucifixes fell off the walls. A statue of the Virgin Mary wept what looked like blood—until tests showed it was human.

And Elian? Still silent. Still watching. He never laughed. Never cried. Never aged.

At school, other kids kept their distance. One girl said he made the lights go off when she touched his backpack. Another claimed he whispered to her in Latin during recess.

But no one believed children. Children exaggerate.

Then came the Sunday sermon.

The Fifth Trumpet Blows

Pastor Hayes turned to his flock with shaking hands.

His sermon was about forgiveness, yet he couldn't stop thinking about some excerpts:

The fifth angel sounded his trumpet and I observed a star falling from the sky to the earth... and he was given the key to the abyss.

Michael woke that night shrieking in terror. Human-faced locusts abounded in his dream, along with fiery fire in the sky and Elian perched atop a bone throne.

Still on the organ bench the following day, the church organist was found dead with her eyes burnt out and her hands twisted in an unnatural posture.

Michael had reached his breaking point.

Truth in the Scriptures

Claire, ever the voice of reason, begged Michael not to overreact.

“He’s just a child,” she pleaded.

“No,” Michael replied, “He’s the child.”

He returned to the Book of Revelation. The Fifth Trumpet. The abyss. The tormentor. The fallen star.

The Antichrist.

He dug deeper into ancient texts, cross-referencing forgotten prophecies, and in one obscure commentary, he found it:

"Born of no womb, marked by silence, a child with silver eyes shall rise in snow, and open the pit of ruin."

Michael ran to Elian’s room.

The boy was gone.

The snow outside had stopped falling.

The Fire Beneath

They found Elian at the top of Hollow Hill—where the old Evermore asylum had burned down decades earlier.

He stood amid the ruins, barefoot in the frost, surrounded by a circle of dead birds. Black feathers covered the ice like burnt paper.

Michael stepped forward, holding a silver crucifix.

“Elian,” he called. “You are not welcome here.”

For the first time, the boy smiled.

Then the ground began to crack.

Fire burst from beneath the hill. Smoke curled around Elian like serpents. His eyes—once silver—turned jet black.

From the burning pit behind him, something began to crawl out.

Claire screamed, “What is that?”

Michael whispered, “The bottomless pit.”

The Final Hour

Michael raised the crucifix, praying aloud. But his voice faltered as Elian opened his mouth, and spoke for the first time:

“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”

The words of Christ at the cross.

But this was not salvation. This was mockery.

The ground trembled as the creature emerged—its face a writhing blend of human and beast, its breath stinking of sulfur and old sin.

Michael lunged at the boy, pressing the crucifix to his forehead. There was a flash of light—then silence.

Elian collapsed.

The creature howled and vanished in a storm of ash.

One Year Later

Evermore rebuilt. The church restored. Life moved on.

No one spoke of Hollow Hill.

Michael and Claire moved away. They never adopted again.

But sometimes, when the wind blows just right, children say they hear a boy's laughter near the church steps—soft, cold, and watching.

🩸 AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Inspired by the apocalyptic dread of The Omen, The Fifth Trumpet reimagines the Antichrist narrative in a modern small-town setting, blending biblical prophecy with psychological suspense. Evil doesn’t always announce itself with thunder. Sometimes, it comes in silence—with silver eyes and a boyish smile.