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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1169023-The-Forsaken
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by Makyra Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Religious · #1169023
The end of the world. This is what i believe will come of us humans trying to play god
The Forsaken

Fire lashed the swampy ground as yet another stroke of lightning hit home. Murky water and mud flew through the air just to land in some other crater not far off. The air was hot; supernaturally hot, considering that it had been storming for uncountable years now. Most life had ceased existing long ago, completely wiped out by the harsh world that their world had become.

Suddenly, the boiling rain stopped and instead chunks of ice began to fall, some as big as softballs. They hit the ground with a thick SPLAT and threw more mud into the air. As one hit, a strange creature that looked sort of like a small, hairless mouse with fangs and a stinger-tipped tail went flying through the air. Then, it landed in one boiling pool of some unnamable liquid, struggled for a few seconds, and then sank below the surface.

One again, blue-white fire lashed the sky, briefly illuminating the landscape and reminding the old man that had been standing not far off from where the mouse-thing drowned of the years when there was once sunlight; of the years when trees and oceans still covered the earth and where small animals lived freely. Now, there was nothing left of those years except a harsh world where almost nothing could survive. And the creatures that somehow -did- survive were all horrible abominations, ugly to look upon and even worse to meet up close.

Around a mile away, a volcano suddenly sprouted up from the ground and threw lava into the air. As it hit the ground, it hissed and steamed and filled in the craters not yet already filled with water.

Then, a stroke of lightning hit nearby, once again throwing debris into the air. The old man ignored this, however, and the mud and rocks fell around him, not a one of them touching his white robes. Even the rock-sized hail fell around him without harm, seeming to curve around him just so that they wouldn't touch him.

The old man watched the desolation and wept. He wept for the subjects he had once harbored on this planet, for his children whom he had loved. He wept for them because he had given them all they asked for, and they simply tried to make more and more. In the end, they had not only destroyed themselves, but everything else that he had created.

Then, with one last look at the land, he faded away and was gone.
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