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Evil Jim

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12:49 am: No Time for Dreamers (part iii)
. . . All thought was slain by a moment of sheer terror.


It wasn't dawn he saw warming the mountains, nor was it a star. It was a new seed falling from the sky; the last seed this forest would ever see planted within its boundaries. He screamed and struggled as the siren wailed and hands set him on his feet, then pushed him roughly down to his knees. Voices shouted and cried. His hands were forced behind his head and he was pushed to the floor. Then a warm, heavy body covered his own.

He panicked and tried to block out all input. His face was distorted as his eyes scrunched shut into a line of wrinkles. The concrete was cool against his forehead as he hyperventilated.

He hit the ground with enough force to jar him awake. He lay there stunned for a moment before feeling the soil and rocks painfully poking into his skin in enough places to sit him upright. The night was waining and the air was still and silent as death. He looked up in time to see the last tree; a tree greater than them all, greater than the mountains. Beautiful, pure, and white with fire blooming from the horizon. Its mass boiled outward and upward from its stubby trunk, touching the sky.

He gasped, and stared in awe.


- E V I L O U T -

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