Life is a shell, a thick barrier that you sit safely inside-outside it though, they are waiting. Each day that passes, your barrier becomes more and more weak. They want you. They want you out.
“Flowers With Mental Problems” is the apocalypse. The mass destruction of humans has been in training to a perfection for centuries. We are blood thirsty, killing our own kind without a second thought. Bacteria, viruses, mental illness, and physical debilitation run rampant. It wants us dead. We are but puppets to an angry planet, sick of our indiscretion and ego-The Earth finally seeks to finish the job.
There are laws of natures and we have repeatedly violated them. Punishment will come. Soon, our master will have had enough, the world we took for granted turns against us. The oceans swallow cities, the clouds slam firmly shut, night is the only day; the wind hovers above absolute zero or a thick,vicious hot. The animals we tortured-we can feel their spirits breathing down our necks and the lost Souls of human and animal alike gather in storms. Unable to return to bodies, their instability is electric, fierce and deadly. Their sorrow is suffocating. The Earth’s heart pulses, loud and heavy- a tribal drum that trembles the blood soaked ground and the ones we took for granted they watch us, waiting. waiting. waiting. The flowers grow, ripping through the dirt past the blacked out sky. The master stems feed the demented children below but it is just half of what they need. They can smell humans, they want to take you over. They may release a gas to knock you out of consciousness. When you sleep, they can reach you, seep into your mind and drive you into insanity-they play off your fears and weaknesses, they will drag you into Hell, kicking and screaming. Whatever you do, Do Not Sleep!
And if you decide to die, than your shell is gone. The boundary of realities are gone and though your own restrictions are gone as well-you must than compete in a world where anything is possible. Keeping one’s self together and not becoming another empty breath of wind, another empty soul. You must fight for your afterlife.
We fight though, instead of accepting our death as inevitable and necessary, we fight. Little did we know that World War 3 would be against the planet its self. The one that tried to love us and we kicked until it bled. For Earth to go on, humans must die, our protector has become our greatest enemy.
There is a God…and it hates you.
(This is just the beginning of this story, more soon)