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By Julian Drury
The Farm was a dead and derelict place. It was located seven miles outside the town of Angstrom, Howard County. It was beat-up property, which always drew ill-looks from the passersby. Most people in town avoided the farm and its withered, sterile lands. Cold winds blow there, and signs of nothing but sadness and decay rests upon the grounds. The farmland sits, perhaps, starved. Starved, like the rest of the area that surrounds it. At least, it seemed that way at the time.
Mr. Pitman was always an outsider, even though he and his family were born and raised in the area for generations. Pitman had been a crazed recluse for as long as I can remember. There have also been a lot of stories about him and his farm since as long as I can remember. As fantastic as some of the stories were, I never paid them any serious attention. Being the County Sheriff, I’ve always felt I had to maintain a rational image. While the others tell their stories, I always have to be the voice of reason.
Old Pitman was found dead on the dirt road leading to town. Death by suicide, so it was declared. Pitman, when I examined his body, looked like he hadn't had anything to eat in weeks. He was shrunken and exposed much like a survivor of the Holocaust. It was a disgusting sight to behold, to see this starved old man sitting on a table in the County Morgue. Especially the look in his eyes. It was a look I had never seen before. If I could judge it, it seemed a look a sheer terror. It was the look someone would give when some unnatural revelation presents itself, in great awe.
I was confused as how his death was labeled suicide. By the looks of his corpse, the man starved to death. Yet, according to the autopsy, Pitman died by ingesting rat poison. Traces of it could still be found in his stomach. I couldn't understand the scenario. Perhaps, in the grueling midst of starving, he decided to end his life. But why rat poison? And why was his body on the road leading to town? Never before had I felt any sort of emotion towards Pitman, until I examined his body. I would call it sympathy, but I am still unsure.
When I drove my jeep to the Pitman property, I was immediately struck by just how bad old Pitman had let things go. To call it a farm would be a disgrace to farms everywhere. It was a heap of withered nothing. It was unimaginable how bad it was.
The only barrier the farm had was a wooden stockade, which was broken up in several sections, and the wood was withered gray and appeared as if termites had been gorging themselves on it. There were no crops in the field. There was nothing but empty space with hardened black soil, completely infertile for growing anything. The pig pens were empty, with no sign that any pigs had been there for some time. There were no cows, no chickens, not even ducks. Any and all trace of any livestock that lived on the farm was erased, completely.
I crept into Pitman’s house. The shack, with windows boarded up, and similar rotted wood like the stockade around the farm. Whatever paint, if any, existed was completely wiped away. There was no electricity in Pitman’s house. My flashlight provided only minimal relief. Cassidy, my novice Deputy, felt the need to enter the house with his pistol drawn.
“Put that away,” I said to him.
“But, what ‘bout protection?” He replied stupidly.
“The man is dead. He ain’t lived with nobody in years, look around.” Cassidy complied and put his pistol back in his belt-holster.
The house was an empty wreck. It didn't look like anything had been cleaned or maintained in anyway. Dust and grime was everywhere, though there were no signs of any bugs, which is unusual for abandoned properties in these parts. The house was as sterile and abandoned as the rest of the farmland. Only relic pieces of furniture, chairs and a torn out sofa, with aged newspapers and moldy clothing were arranged around the premises. The air was dead, calm in a chilling sort of way. I couldn’t wait to finish the search and leave. I never felt so compelled to leave a search before, until I arrived at Pitman’s farm.
When Cassidy and I finished the search of Pitman’s house, we decided to ask questions of a nearby local, Arnie Baxter. Arnie wasn’t the sharpest mind. Then again, no farmer around here has any sense to them. Though, Arnie is the closest person to live within Pitman’s farm, so I figured he might know something about Pitman’s final days. Perhaps asking Arnie was biting off a little more than I really wanted to chew on. Like sour chew-tobacco, it just leaves a lingering taste that you’d wish would end quickly.
“Well, I tell ye’ Sheriff!” proclaimed Arnie, nearly ecstatic he had someone to tell a story to, perhaps. “I tell ye’, I know-a somethin’ wadn’t a-right ‘bout ol’ Pitman! I know it, like Gawd’s own truth! I seen things round these parts. Yep, that’s right.”
“What kind of things have you seen around here, Arnie?” I tried to ask in a serious tone.
“I seen unholy work! It ain’t been bad enough that me and all the rest of the farms are losin’ cattle and crops left and right. We’ve been talkin’, Sheriff. It’s ol’ Pitman’s fault I say!”
“What’s Pitman’s fault, Arnie?”
“Ol’ Pitman was a demon! He made a deal with the Devil! I knows’ it! He’s been causin’ us all this trouble!”
I mumbled to myself, “Why is it always the Devil with you people?”
“Nothin’ Arnie. Listen, Pitman’s dead. We found his body on the road into town. The man starved and then took poison and killed himself. What I need from you Arnie, is any information you can give me about Pitman that could explain why the man may have starved and killed himself, and let his entire farm go to shit.”
“Well, I don’ know Sheriff. If he’s dead, then he brought that on himself, dealin’ in unholy power. I ain’t seen much of ol’ Pitman in the past year. But, I did see Pitman a couple times.”
“Well, matter-fact, I seen him bout si’ or sevum’ monss back. Yes sir, indeed!”
“Alright, what did you see then Arnie?”
“It was just a sec, too quick to see much. But I did see ol’ Pitman. He was-a leadin’ some his cattle into the barn at the farthest clearin’, right on yonder past the house. I seen him take his cattle into that there barn. I was too far to get a good look at ol’ Pitman, but I could tell the man was thin as a pencil.”
“You say he led his livestock into the barn there?”
“Yep. He took ‘em to that there barn. He took ‘em in, but ain’t one of ‘em came out. Not a cow, or hog, or chick. Nothin’ at all.”
“Pitman brought his livestock to the barn, and none of them came out?”
“That’s what I said, Sheriff.”
“Well, that’s very helpful Arnie.” I tried to lie as best I could.
“Oh, but there’s more. Cuz, I think I know-a why ol’ Pitman was bringin’ his cattle to that there barn.”
“Is that so, Arnie?”
“Yep. See, my nephew, Tom Baker, done told me a story about somethin’ that ol’ Pitman had been-a keepin’ at that there barn. Somethin’ evil, my nephew said.”
“What, the Devil?”
“No, no. Get serious, Sheriff!” I wanted to smack Arnie for saying that. “See, a few years ago, somethin’ came here, to these parts.”
“Like what Arnie, get to the point already.”
“My nephew says he saw somethin’ fall here. Somethin’ fell from out the sky.”
“Arnie, I don’t think I need to—”
“No, listen Sheriff! Somethin’ fell from out the sky, but it wudn’t jus’ from out the sky. It came from space, from outer-space. Like an, uhh? Uhh?”
“Meteorite,” I interjected.
“Yep, you nailed it Sheriff! A meet-e-orite!”
“What does any of this have to do with Pitman’s death?”
“Well, I don’ know. Maybe a lot, but I don’ know for sure. You see, the way my nephew, Tom Baker, told me the story, the meet-e-orite fell from the sky in a great fiery blast! My nephew said that some weird lights n’ stuff started wavin’ in the sky, in the air. Like those ol’ freaky lights they got up north in the Art-ick there, them uhh? Uhhh? What-cha-ma-call-I, the uhhh—”
“Oh, yeah, thems the lights! Like an a-roar-a. These-a lights were-a dancin’ and flashin’ all around. The meet-e-orite landed in a clearin’, on the other side of ol’ Pitman’s farm. The meet-e-orite sank deep into the ground, an’ lights flashin’ from the crater that meet-e-orite sat in. Yep, an’ my nephew saw ol’ Pitman creepin’ to the crater. He said he saw him dancin’, prayin’ to that meet-e-orite, while it shined weird lights. At that time, all them trees and grass died, like their life-force was bein’ sucked out. Somethin’ was drainin’ the earth, the soil. The ground shook, and knew that some unholy thing was-a being beckoned! My nephew said, that there barn at the end of the clearin’ is where ol’ Pitman kept that meet-e-orite. Lord knows what evil things ol’ Pitman did with it. Yes sir. Ol’ Pitman was-a crazed cook after that. That’s what my nephew said.”
“Is that the entire story, Arnie?”
“Yep. I ‘member that story like it was told to me yesterday.”
“That’s great, Arnie. Well, I live ‘round these parts Arnie. I think I would remember sometime in recent history about a meteorite crashing here, let alone lights in the sky and the ground shaking.”
“That’s what I said to my nephew when he told me, but after seein’ all the damned things Pitman was foolin’ with, now I think the story is true. Ol’ Pitman was hidin’ somethin’ on his land. Maybe it’s still there.”
“Sure. Maybe, Arnie.”
“Well, you gonna go check it out?”
“Check what out, Arnie?”
“The barn! That there barn over yonder. Even if my nephew’s story ain’t true, it’s gotta’ be worth a look?”
It was flooring to me that I would actually put any credence into old Arnie Baxter’s tall-tale. For all I know, he could have just as well made that story up one night over a bottle of Bourbon. Despite my intuition, despite as many times as I’ve had to tell myself that I have to be rational, I decided to go ahead and search the barn at the other end of the farm. Yonder, as Arnie said.
The barn seemed no special noteworthy sight. Just as the rest of the farm, the wood and foundations of the barn were worn and dilapidated. Out of some bewildering compulsion, Cassidy and I began our sojourn into the withered walls of nearly seemed hallowed grounds. What truth we were to find, was not entirely a concern for me. I figured we would find nothing but sterile emptiness, like everything else around the farm.
Cassidy nearly chucked his guts as I opened up the rickety doors to the barn. I couldn’t necessarily blame him. The entire scene inside the barn was one of death, and miserable death at that. The ground was littered in horrid, grayish-black hay. Intermixed with these grim blankets of hay, were a great and terrifying series of bones; animal bones.
I held myself together, while Cassidy could barely hold his goddamn stomach together for a brief period. Clearly he had never seen the inside of a slaughterhouse before. I tried to offer some encouragement, but ultimately it was a futile gesture. What became clear to me was that something strange had indeed been occurring in the barn. Based on the litter of bones, I could tell they were the remnants of livestock. I could alone distinguish six cow neck-bones, three pig rib-cages, as well as many hoofs from cows, pigs, and apparently horses as well.
I couldn’t understand the emotions that gripped me. I had seen plenty of death before in my life, but the scene inside the barn was more than just a grim replay of unnecessary carnage. There was something truly disturbing about what I saw. This was especially true, when I spotted what appeared to be a small crater located in the center of the barn.
Hesitation can be a cruel emotion to have set upon you, especially when the original plan was to make the search of the farm quick and eventless. Yet, there it was. It was a small crater in the earth of the barn, no more than a couple feet wide and deep. It was a disturbing feeling to know that, perhaps, Arnie Baxter’s story might have some truth to it. I glanced carefully at the crater, as well as the surrounding structure and foundation of the barn. While much of it was falling apart, I noticed something bizarre.
After careful examination of the foundation of the barn, and the symmetry in which it was built, I came to a rather strange conclusion; the barn appeared as if it was built perfectly around the crater, like a shelter of some kind. The bones, also, were scattered about evenly around the perimeter of the crater, and I could tell by the hardened nature of the soil that it had been there for many years. I couldn't prove it directly. I figure that old Pitman built the barn specifically to shelter or hide the crater. My conclusions were reinforced by the fact that, surrounding the base of the crater in a perfect circle was a series of half-burnt red candles.
To me, it seemed that Pitman sheltered the crater for some weird, maybe even diabolical, reason. It seemed like an activity you would expect to see from some ridiculous cult, idol worshipers and what-not. There was an idol, as well. In the direct center of the crater rested something. When I first looked at it, I could vaguely call it a meteorite. Though, slowly, the form of this strange object took shape to my sight. I had never seen anything quite like it.
The object had the shape of a skull. A skull of what, God only knows.
It seemed to be a crystal, rather than a rock. It was a clean, shining glassy form that seemed untouched by any natural force around it. I supposed it could have been some kind of meteorite that fell from space, but it is certainly not the idea of a space-rock that I ever grew up with. I am still not sure whether or not it is proper to call it a “rock.” If it is a meteorite, a great cosmic traveler descended from the black heavens, then by scientific definition it would have to be some type of stones, crystals, or composite materials.
Despite my drive to maintain rationality, it is incredibly hard to do so when faced with the shape and presence of the skull-like object resting in the crater. I couldn’t even believe that I began coming up with these strange theories about the barn and the meteorite it sheltered. These are things I usually cast aside as superstition and fantasies of gullible masses. Yet, there I was, committing grave sins against rationalism.
There was nothing rational about the object in the center of the crater. I only describe it as a skull in shape based merely on my human perception of what a skull would look like. It looked somewhat like a human skull, but had some features about it that were definitely not common in human skeletons.
A spinal ridge stood atop the “skull” shaped object, and deep sockets, and what would appear to be only a skull and top jaw. There didn’t seem to be a bottom jaw, and what I could describe as a pattern of jagged teeth rested at the top region of the meteorites “jaw.” Mind you, that this object was made of some dastardly crystal from beyond earth, so I am merely describing the shape of this object, not its organic composition.
“What are you doin’ boss?” Cassidy asked me.
“Tryin’ to get a better look at what’s in that crater,” I replied.
“Do you think you should touch it?”
“There’s only one way to find out what it is.”
“Boss, I don’t think you should touch that thing. Maybe we need to call one of them, uh, you know—guys in in weird chemical suits n’ stuff.”
“They’re called hazmat suits, and I don’t think that should be necessary.”
“Boss, I really don’t think you should—” It was too late.
I reached out and touched the crystal meteorite from the crater. A great surge of burning energy took hold, and rushed through my veins to my eyes, despite the fact I was wearing leather gloves over my hands. That’s the best way I can describe my experience before I blacked out, only to wake up at the county hospital.
“Sheriff?...Sheriff?...Boss?” I heard a voice of fleeting tone say. When I opened my eyes, I saw the face of my deputy, Cassidy, his young foolish eyes and disparate expression. I could tell I was in a hospital bed. For what reason I was unsure. I felt fine, better than I ever felt before in my life, matter of fact. Why was I in a hospital?
“Cassidy?” I spoke, feeling, perhaps, these were the first words I had ever spoken in my life. “Why am I in the hospital?”
“You passed out boss,” he replied. “I didn’t know what else to do? I tried to wake you up after you touched that that in the barn and—”
“Speak softly. What have you told them? Did you say anything to them about what happened?”
“Well, no. Come to think, this is the first time I’ve been allowed back here to see you.”
“Did you call my wife? Did you call Sheila?”
“No sir, I tried to call but she wasn’t answering your home phone.”
“Come to think of it, I haven’t been able to tell anyone what happened. I haven’t even seen a doctor or nurse since I brought you here. Everybody seems so busy, I guess. I asked the woman at the desk, and she said something ‘bout some kind of illness spreadin’ around. They think it’s from the water, but they’re not sure.”
“Never mind all that. So you haven’t said anything about what happened then?” Cassidy shook his head. I felt a great relief. For once, his ineptness finally worked in my ultimate favor. The less that knew about what was at Pitman’s farm, the better.
“But, boss? I mean, you’re gonna talk to the doctor right?”
“Listen to me Cassidy, very careful: do not tell anyone about what happened out at the farm today. I mean anyone. Do you get me?”
“But why, boss? I mean, you could be hurt and that was some really weird shit out there.”
“If you so much as even think about telling anyone about what happened, then you can expect to turn in your badge and move to a different county if you ever plan on being on the force again. You know me Cassidy. I don’t joke.”
I could tell that Cassidy desperately wanted to tell someone about the anomaly at Pitman’s farm. Yet, I also knew that he wanted to keep his job. Cassidy promised me to remain silent, and after that point I knew I had to make a plan. I thought I needed time, though ultimately this element word work against me. No one ever has enough time. Everything precious is always cut short. I knew a change had been made within me, but could not name it. Something was inside of me, some hideous presence that no man could make a name for. Things change, and sometimes all it takes is one outside factor to come along and re-shape the very landscape you stand on. That is what happened, to me and everything else, basically.
Most importantly, I became very hungry. Hungry…
A cellphone rang in the middle of the night. It was very late, well past midnight. The house in which the phone rang belonged to my deputy, Cassidy. He was the one to finally answer the phone. I was calling him.
“Hello? Boss?” He answered in a groggy voice.
“I’m out at the farm,” I said to him.
“What? Pitman’s farm?”
“It’s very cold out here.”
“What are you doin’ out there? How’d you get released from the hospital?”
“I need you to get down here. I need you down here right now.”
“Why? It’s past midnight boss, there ain’t nothin’ goin’ on out there. Are you alright?”
“I expect to see you here in an hour or less.” I hung up the phone. It was up to Cassidy at that point to make the right decision.
The headlights from the jeep could be seen very far off as it approached the road to Pitman’s farm. The darkness surrounding the land emphasized the artificial lights of the vehicle. I knew Cassidy was approaching, just as I told him. He drove the jeep past the stockade near the farmhouse. He parked, and got out, making sure to turn his flashlight on. It took him a moment to notice my presence. It was almost as if I was ghost for those brief moments, only an unseen observer able to witness but not interact.
“Times are changing,” my voice echoed out from the darkness. Cassidy looked frantically to his right, seeing my form step forward from the cold shadows.
“Boss?” Cassidy stated. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He shined the flashlight on me, noticing that I was not in uniform, and instead, wore only blue-jean overalls as my only item of clothing. “You look sick, boss,” he added. “You look thin, have you eaten anything today?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I’ve eaten a lot today actually. I’m still hungry, though.”
“Well, why don’t I get you back to town and we’ll stop at the diner or somethin’ and grab a bite.”
“This is a beautiful place,” I said. “Not sure why anyone would take care of it so poorly.”
“So, boss. Why exactly did you call me out here? You make any discoveries to the case?”
“Everything, Cassidy. I’ve figured out everything. See, what old Pitman was keepin’ in his barn is more than just a rock from outer-space. It’s not a meteorite. It’s a vessel of some kind. Like a virus. That crystal that crashed here is just a vehicle, for something inside.”
“What was inside?”
“Something. I can’t describe what it is, but it’s very much alive. It’s feeding off of us, Cassidy. It feeds off of everything.”
“Yep. That’s why all the cattle and crops have been dying off. It’s also probably why Pitman was so starved the way he was, and why people ‘round here are getting sick now. Slowly but surely. It consumes everything, from the inside; the animals, plants, even the soil and water. It multiplies like bacteria, and won’t stop until every single trace of living and life-giving things are eaten up. It takes time, but with enough substance and enough time, it can consume entire landscapes. Imagine millions of microscopic parasites from space that feed off of everything. That’s why old Pitman took that rat poison. He wasn’t tryin’ to kill himself. He was tryin to kill it, inside him. There’s no fighting it, no poisons or medicine will kill it. It’s traveled across the black heavens to find a planet with the conditions and food to sustain it. It’s here, and it ain’t goin’ anywhere else.”
Cassidy was concerned by my words. I know he wanted to believe me, but he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. My physical condition unnerved him, and I could tell in his eyes that he thought I was going insane.
“Boss,” he began to say. “I think we need to get you back to the hospital. Please, boss. You don’t look good, and I can’t have my conscious sit with heavy guilt knowin’ you’re out here.”
“Let me see your gun.”
“Your six-shooter. Let me see it.” Cassidy was hesitant at first, until I held out my hand in a serious display. He reluctantly un-holstered his gun, and slowly handed it to me. I opened the revolver chamber, emptying out five bullets from the gun. I popped the chamber back into place.
“So, boss. You never actually told me what you needed me out here for.”
“What’s that girl of yours name? Mary, is it?”
“Right. You’re engaged to that girl, right?”
“She said yes, right?”
“Yeah, I thought I told all this boss?”
“You probably did, but I only pretended to care about it.”
“What’s my fiancé have to do with why I’m here?”
“She’s been foolin’ around on you, did you know that? Was she at home with you when I called?” There was a brief silence. Cassidy did not want to reply. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“She had to work late tonight.”
“Yeah, I bet she did. In a county where the latest place that stays open is a gas-station or diner. I didn’t know bank tellers had so much to do after closing time.”
“Is there a point, boss?”
“Yeah. She’s been foolin’ around on you. She’s been foolin’ around on you with some young guy, like you. I only saw him twice and don’t recognize him that well. Must be from ‘round here, though.” The look of disbelief flared in Cassidy’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. I know the motel they’ve been stayin’ at and everything. Cod’s motel, off Beckridge road. They’re probably there right now. I’ve followed her a couple times, though I never felt the need to say anything. I thought you’d be smart enough to figure it out. Based on that look you got on your face, I’d say you weren’t as smart as I thought you’d be.”
“Why would you want to know any of this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she reminded me a bit of my wife. See, Leila doesn’t know this, but she used to fool ‘round on me too. Yep, years ago. She used to go off with this auto-mechanic, named Bo. Yep, she used to fool with him. Until I cornered him on the highway, at night. On a night, much like tonight. I told him to get out of the car, and then I emptied six rounds into his chest. See, things have a way of working themselves out.”
“Is that why you called me here, boss? To tell me all this crazy shit?”
“Not really. I called you out here because I wanted you to see the precipice.”
“The End; And the stars of heaven shall fall, and the powers that are in heaven shall be shaken. Mark 13:25. That’s scripture, words to live by. We must live by it now.”
“I didn’t come here for a scripture lesson, I know that much.”
“Well, I’ll give you more. Nothing is covered up that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. That’s Luke 12:2. No one who practices deceit shall dwell in my house; no one who utters lies shall continue before my eyes. Psalm 101:7.”
“Are you in a judgin’ mood, boss?”
“Always. As much as I have tried to see everything, all the loose ties in the world, and be rational of it all, I now have come to a point where it’s all just wasted effort. Why be rational of an existence that has constantly looks to break it? Where is my reward?”
“I thought we are given our rewards in heaven. You sound sad, struttin’ around and preachin’ doom. I thought better of you, boss. Now I don’t know what to think.”
“You never did. Never did, never would have.”
“I think we need to get you back to the hospital. You’re sick boss, touchin’ that thing has messed you up. We need to get you back to the hospital now.”
“Well, for one there’s no medicine in that hospital or any other hospital on this planet for that matter that will destroy what has been unleashed. Another reason, perhaps the most important, is that everyone at that hospital is dead. Dead, or maybe dying.’”
“Suppose I could try and treat myself, though not sure how ethical that would be. Seein’ as I’m not a doctor and all that.”
“How can everyone at the hospital be dead?”
“I told you. It’s taken over, boy. Slowly but surely. Bringin’ me to that hospital just stimulated that which was already spreadin’ around. I was also very hungry. Still am, actually.”
“It’s inside everyone now. You too, you just haven’t noticed it all that much. It’ll come around, you’ll see. In the meantime, maybe you can help me with somethin’ to eat.”
“I think you’re sick boss. I need to get you away from here, get you help. I’m not takin’ kindly to all this. I would say you’ve changed, yet I don’t know what you’ve changed into?”
“You don’t have to. Whether you want to accept it or not, what’s goin’ on is goin’ on. This ain’t pretend, and I won’t coddle you. It’s gonna end the way it is. You should just remember that we are now hosts.”
I revealed to Cassidy the hand that I used to touch the great crystal beacon of doom, which caused widened eyes and expressions of extreme disgust. Facing him down from the palm of my hand was what could only be described as an eye. An eye of gruesome celestial color, and grim patterns. The eye was of a collective species, something that starves out its original hosts. This is, perhaps, to create something new. I’m sure if I bothered to look close enough at old Pitman’s hands in the morgue, I would have seen something similar.
Cassidy wanted to step away, perhaps back to the jeep. I didn’t give him a chance for that. I shot him clean in the head with the one remaining bullet in the chamber of his six shooter that I held in my other hand. He fell gracefully dead onto the black soil, and I reveled somewhat over him. It was at that point that I noticed the lightening of the night sky, signaling that dawn was perhaps on its way.
I grabbed hold of Cassidy’s feet and began to drag him a distance, until I reached the barn at the other end of the farm. I dragged him inside the barn, and concluded that the best use of the situation was to eat Cassidy. It would be a simple process, dismembering and cleaning a corpse with only spare rusted farm tools. There was no need to cook the meat, or waste spare parts. Only the bones were left behind, mixed in with all the other bones laying about the barn. It was no easy satisfaction, as this cosmic hunger is never fully satisfied.
So, in these times, in these places, in these dark corners of the human imagination, we wait for a deceitful light to shine above us. Though, it is an illusion. The light that comes, fades quickly into a darkness that will never die. This darkness will consume everything until even light from heaven can shine no more. There is beauty in this grandeur of life.
While I think of what is to be left soon, I look into the black crater where the great crystal lies. In its maniacal shape of death’s head, I am reminded of how easy it is to lay waste to those who feel invincible. The proud will be struck down, and the adapting will inherit the spoils of the earth. The farm has a new master.
In this way, I sit in the barn, and watch the rising light of the sunrise.
#Unreal #Fiction #ScienceFiction #Otherwordly #Parasite #Extraterrestrial #Earthling #Human #Illusion
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