Post by erikthebled on Feb 20, 2022 23:41:50 GMT -8
Erik looks different.
High fur collar of a dark color. On a tattered, black clothed jacket.
He walks a trail, face forward, towards an unknown destination.
This is our first glimpse of this enigma in the year 2022. His breathing comes out in bursts as he struggles to the end of the trail.
He stops and looks beneath him over a vast pit that has become the final resting place of thousands upon thousands of previously used Christmas trees. His breathing slowing as tears drop down his face.
Erik: none of you had a chance, did you?
He speaks loud enough for anyone amongst the Christmas tree burial pit to hear. As that is absolutely no one, it's obvious, he is speaking to the trees.
Erik: you weren't asked to be ripped away were you? To be unceremoniously attached to their machines and carted to their shelters abundantly made by many of your distant cousins wooded hydes. Just to be mockingly forced to stand erect before them and their young spawn and gawked at. ONLY TO BE THROWN AWAY AFTER THE BIRTHDAY OF THEIR LORD!!!
As Erik uncharacteristically screamed over the pit of Christmas massacre, different colored bulbs that were thrown out with the trees started slightly twinkling throughout the somewhat vast pit.
Erik: and here I stand, no longer running. Correction, here WE stand. The true giver of everything the human race has ever needed is…… dying. I mean here is proof of her withering away right here. Look at the trees!!
The lights in different forms all across this boneyard of Christmas trees all light at once, bright. Brighter..
Erik: this dying entity that the human race has consistently and meticulously chipped life away from, has chased all the ghosts away from my head. Even my mother.
He puts his head down and closes his eyes. All the lights dim within the trees.
Erik: now she has possessed my brain. I see so much. So much history. So much pain and rage, and no way to let it out, until now.
His eyes open. Every bulb in the pit of trees brighten and burst.
Erik turns from the dead trees laying before him.
Erik: Before you stupid humans made a mockery of these trees…
He puts his head down.
Erik: they were mine…
He shakes his head and opens his icy blue eyes.
Erik: none of you have the right to feed your superstitions with my harvest. They clean the air, and yet you dress them like dolls and dispose of them like whores. No more.
He walks away, speaking.
Erik: Liberty Falls for you humans. Mama's coming.
High fur collar of a dark color. On a tattered, black clothed jacket.
He walks a trail, face forward, towards an unknown destination.
This is our first glimpse of this enigma in the year 2022. His breathing comes out in bursts as he struggles to the end of the trail.
He stops and looks beneath him over a vast pit that has become the final resting place of thousands upon thousands of previously used Christmas trees. His breathing slowing as tears drop down his face.
Erik: none of you had a chance, did you?
He speaks loud enough for anyone amongst the Christmas tree burial pit to hear. As that is absolutely no one, it's obvious, he is speaking to the trees.
Erik: you weren't asked to be ripped away were you? To be unceremoniously attached to their machines and carted to their shelters abundantly made by many of your distant cousins wooded hydes. Just to be mockingly forced to stand erect before them and their young spawn and gawked at. ONLY TO BE THROWN AWAY AFTER THE BIRTHDAY OF THEIR LORD!!!
As Erik uncharacteristically screamed over the pit of Christmas massacre, different colored bulbs that were thrown out with the trees started slightly twinkling throughout the somewhat vast pit.
Erik: and here I stand, no longer running. Correction, here WE stand. The true giver of everything the human race has ever needed is…… dying. I mean here is proof of her withering away right here. Look at the trees!!
The lights in different forms all across this boneyard of Christmas trees all light at once, bright. Brighter..
Erik: this dying entity that the human race has consistently and meticulously chipped life away from, has chased all the ghosts away from my head. Even my mother.
He puts his head down and closes his eyes. All the lights dim within the trees.
Erik: now she has possessed my brain. I see so much. So much history. So much pain and rage, and no way to let it out, until now.
His eyes open. Every bulb in the pit of trees brighten and burst.
Erik turns from the dead trees laying before him.
Erik: Before you stupid humans made a mockery of these trees…
He puts his head down.
Erik: they were mine…
He shakes his head and opens his icy blue eyes.
Erik: none of you have the right to feed your superstitions with my harvest. They clean the air, and yet you dress them like dolls and dispose of them like whores. No more.
He walks away, speaking.
Erik: Liberty Falls for you humans. Mama's coming.