1. Xen DarkWolfe
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    Xen DarkWolfe Member

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    Part of the Storm

    Discussion in 'Image Story Contest' started by Xen DarkWolfe, Jun 7, 2007.

    The cloudy black leather bands around my hands and forearms flew wildly in the high wind, whipped about by the storm winds surrounding me. I curled my hands into fists as the tornado whipped the town into a chaotic tangle of steel and wood, my stitched-shut mouth tight in an imitation of a smile.

    Those who lived here had thought that they had killed me... they had even gone so far as to autopsy me, leaving the gigantic ‘Y’ incision down the front of my scarred and pale-skinned chest. I had been merely sleeping then, resting after attempting to use the powers which Mother Nature had given me. I had shown them then, shown them that a man like I was, a creature like I was, could not easily be killed.

    I recalled the destruction of their medical facility with satisfaction, looking up into the storm clouds which rained lightning upon the ground around me. My anger at their arrogance had produced one of the deadliest tornadoes ever... an F5, they called it. Not much had been left when the winds of my anger had stilled, save for a few shreds of flesh and a lot of splinters.

    Through me, mother earth had gotten her revenge.

    I turned back to the town which lay below the hilltop, now having its outer edges eaten away by the ravaging winds of nature’s great weapon. I smiled again, as best I could, and then looked up to the clouds where lightning still flashed. Reaching a leather-bound arm upwards, I grabbed onto the force I sought, and pulled...

    The thunderheads above swirled, and another funnel dipped down, twisting like some sort of fragile gray eel. I guided its path with my other hand, and then let it drop completely, right into the town’s center.

    Even from this distance, I could hear the screams.

    I drank them up, savoring the sound as a man might savor his lover’s kiss. Agony, fresh and deep... how delightful. They deserved every moment of pain, each moment of torture that I could put them through, and every single gash which I opened upon their flesh. How many gashes on the earth had they opened, how many scars had they left? How many times had they poisoned the world in their ignorance, or knowingly sliced apart the trees which were supposed to cover the land? I had felt her pain, the pain of Nature as she suffered the agony of humans over and over again. But I could act on it, and I could strike at those who damaged this fragile world the most.

    I twisted my arms and grasped the far-off twister in my mind, dragging it closer to the other, and then flinging it into the path of the highest building in the town... the church, with its gigantic steeple. The winds shredded the flimsy safety wires, wrenched the steel point from atop the structure, and then flung it straight through the house which happened to be next door. The tip emerged from the other side, a man screaming in agony on its bloodstained white point.

    I walked down from the hilltop, lightning striking in my footsteps. I raised my left arm, and this time lightning struck me dead on...

    ...only to fountain out again through my outstretched right arm, striking the roof of a house forcefully enough to both crack it and set it alight.

    My teeth showed the slightest bit as my mouth tried to stretch, only to be stopped by the stitches which were embedded there. They represented Mother Nature’s silence as humanity tormented her, submitting to the destruction quietly in the knowledge that all of them would someday die. I, however, didn’t feel it necessary to wait.

    I reached up with both my hands this time, gripped that invisible force again, and pulled... this time, drawing two thick tubes of black clouds to the ground on the other two sides of the town. I let my eyes close, raising my arms to my sides, and rotating my hands to face down. I could feel the twisters around me; they were part of me, and so was the destruction they caused. I could see the car which flew, still honking, in the air above me, and the half section of a roof which tumbled like a playing card in the tornado’s wake. I could smell the moisture which lay upon the air, could sense the thousands of tiny splinters which flew around me at bullet-like speeds.

    And I could almost taste the chaotic winds which whipped around in four tubes behind me, shredding wood, metal, flesh, and life.

    My hair fanned out in a cloud of its own, and I stood there, part of the storm.
     

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