He stood at the edge of the forest on a cliff overlooking the sea two hundred meters below. Every inch of his body was vibrating intensely and forcefully and fiercely, half-recalled memories streaking through his mind. And with each one it was as if he was going through them again. With each one came a physical blow, his body being jerked to the side, begging to rip itself apart. Tears began falling down his face, his control over his composure now completely gone with the icy wind that threatened to cleave his flesh and freeze him from the inside out. With each memory he relived those emotions. Those horrid, acerbic, god-awful emotions that felt like they were biting and scratching and clawing their way out.
But he took every one of these blows. He took them all and then some. His body began to shake more violently with each blow until he could no longer contain them all. Until his body lashed out against itself and finally took charge of the situation. It started from his core, bubbling and seething, spreading quickly to the rest of his body. And as it spread, it grew in size, enveloping his figure until his figure wasn’t enough. A pulse reverberated from the point of origin as his body was granted its wish and flung its insides far and scattered them wide. Not content with destroying the host, the pulse moved on further and further, uprooting trees and killing animals in an instant until the whole world was enveloped and there was nothing left.
At the end there was just him. Standing on the edge of the forest on a cliff overlooking the sea two hundred meters below.
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Artwork by Rhea Meta