The figments of these trees stand so tall. A cat of red, green, and yellow depicting the shades of faint blue light or is that casting a somersault off the catapult sending me out of that trip show. The propulsion of the hydraulics sent me out of the water drenched. A sheer force of pressurized water erupts off the wall, filled with the psychedelic water clouding my mind as if it were mist jump-starting my optical senses. Filling in sclerosis in air pockets that bubble them like an omelet to fry. I land in long blades of grass surrounded by humongous trees with flowers I'd never seen. Lit-up bugs emitted a strong electrical current illuminating the world around me.
I wonder just where I've been overthrown by an elaborate pyrotechnic controlling the flow of erosion and stone. Coughing up what's still stuck in my lung after a series of bursts of liquid in my stomach, "Multi-coloured. That can't be good. Still no guppies. That's a good sign. " I stumble getting up, looking around but no sign of any life aside from the bugs. I yell into the distance, "Hello, anyone?"
Must've been the lucky one still staggered from the lifted high rise and slammed back down against the ground. I notice birds migrating till the confusion dawns on me, crows. Bodies, dead bodies means they'll be footprints. Even if it's someone of nasty disposition maybe they'll have some idea of how I get from the marshes to this list forest.
Getting closer I notice lit-up footprints. It must be the water or the mildew. The natural glisten gives off a sparkle showing Hydro's footprints. Looking around at the fauna and forest I almost bellow for him but catch my tongue with my teeth at the last moment. Shook by his will once at the moment the cold sets in. "Hydro," I say quietly.
The footprints had hardly any water laid upon them bringing the realization he's close by. The sludge behind me slides ever so slightly. I turn to see him and those beautiful blue lights with a neon hue. "You did it! The planet is rife with life. It looks more wonderful than I could imagine." Still motionless while I spin in the glory of his work. "Say something, man. This is glorious for the hole it was."
He flicks his middle finger up and smiles only to notice the spots on my eyes. Turning his iris inside out in a way I'd never seen before. Begrudgingly, he speaks, "Did you drink from the well?"
Feeling like I might've fucked up, I hold up my hands, "I was shot out like a cannonball." His disconcerted face falls short of depression and the cloud above starts to pour torrential rain. "I'm sorry friend, just look at the water covet your skin." Hydro's eyes crawl towards the iris crystallizing the bloodshot white pupil of his piercing gauge. "It burns." He shakes his head and holds up one hand. "I'm so sorry old friend. Some measure of peace is all I can offer." The colourful substance spreads conveys and constricts the body's capability of movement till I'm ice cold. He walks up to my frozen body and then flicks the solar plexus. It's in n this moment I remember it isn't the trip cave that plagued us. It's the water we all plunged into.
The marshes are what killed each and every one of us. "Fate is better than being without purpose, remember the belief and you will return to this place. Goodbye, friend." Such kind words at such an unkind moment as the pieces of face, body, and organs slide off each other. Sheets slipping off partial plates. The man dead slung on the ground seeps what Hydro did not anticipate. The energy-inducing shock of the chemical compound sinking underneath what's beneath the forest floor's clear abundance of an opposing force. The pyrotechnic is genuinely sympathetic for what he's lost but no tears. Rising in full focus, casting his flame to three outer edges of the core. A flame coerced, carrying catalysts and stretching to all of Tyro's tenacious desire to set the water, air, and the last lone island as a fuse for those both before and after.
"Attempting the amiable, it's." Noticing the change of green foliage and the shudder of pine needles shifting and shaking roots...
*
"My flask is almost empty." I turn to my left at a tree cut at the stump. He's always been depressed. Even discouraged by the flickering of a light bulb. Never known why. Blue attire signifies him and others of the same like. Submissive and sympathetic to others' fright and loneliness. "Don't go looking around for much. There's not much to find." He says remiss. I take a glance at our surroundings and notice nothing but odd-looking pine and oak trees. Noticing the forest losing sense of breath, "Where is everybody else?" Sauntered over almost asleep mutter, "No one knows." His head kneels, Must've been the alcohol." Picking up the flask. It's empty. I take another glance at the sun. "It's early morning, sleep well."
I feel sick like I've lost something before I had a chance to do anything about it. Standing up choosing a direction from the cold cascading air above the medial waves above the sea. No footprints, from boot or shoe. Passing trees that had been placed by people clearing the lumber. I notice the red hoodie marking rejection of conventional practices, and rebellious. "Hey!" He shifted his feet a little keeping his feet cost along with the shade. I can't and do not want to know but I do know, he's trying to light something. "Oh, fuck." He jumps back startled. "Did you light a pile of flint?" He finally turns. "It's still sparking. Look at that." Stamping it with my foot. "Trees burn jackass. Wait, now that is confusing." Shocked at blades of grass still raised to the light. The dirt is nevertheless motionless. "No, tread mark. I've noticed." It's twitching, "What were you trying to light?" Crushing what's left of the carcass, for sentiment of stilled agony and harm. "I found an insect crawling from a hole in the forest floor." Stunned by the notion of this ludicrous moment. "Why, why?" I stammer through the question." Why'd you light it?" Baffled by the tension and the confusion for the sparks of an insect. "I've never noticed an insect-like that before." His red cheeks puffed up as he chews something I decide not to ask. Better to not know the answer. "What's the difference?" Asking harbouring the feeling there won't be a response worth hearing. ""Nothing, just no others." Kicks the dirt. "Dirt seems to weigh heavy here." His head tilted to the ground like he's running from a conversation he doesn't want to have. "Where are the others?" I ask out of confusion. Despite the lack of care for the squashed bug Carson doesn't have the disposition for violence. His feet still kicking the dirt I wonder out loud, "There something your hiding from me?" He stops and looks past me. "Wouldn't dream of it. This place is kind of a nightmare." My eyes sear from the smoke of the bug trying to check over my shoulder. "Yeah, your similar." A lack of hesitation as I push him out of my way. "If your hearing to the shore you won't find much." Remaining unresponsive so he doesn't say another word. "Fine."
"Fuck." Dives into a ditch under a log and waits for the ash to fall. Hitting the log with a fist swells the end of the fractured bone. The skeletal structure of his own callous idiocy when he'd dented a support beam. Wasn't much of a dent but he had to feel some actual pain for the detriment and distorted ringing of his ears because of the explosion. The body he'd found I could barely see. An entirety of red and corrosion kept me from identifying the person.
The ash rises into the sky only to be windswept to the shore. Bugs flying along with them. Showing similiar to tracers. Magnifying enigmatic colours projecting a phased current behind their wings burnt erratic lag impressed upon my retina.
Noticing the insect burrowing out of the dead log, I start digging in with the claw of a crab to wrench them from their nest and their source of sap. Spreading what's left from their collected nectar on the improvised hardened shell. Getting up from the dirt, I'd noticed but didn't think about. The branches are raised from the root of the tree so the ants can't reach the branches. The leaves replenish and won't ever be affected.
Picking up pine needles I prick myself. Ignoring the faint feeling of being hit with a frying pan. I saunter off in the wrong direction.
"You have the wrong bottle." I switch mine for his and he takes a swig. "Good, that's good." Moving back to the metronome of a primordial wave askew from their equal banality, each woe seated next to each other on the long grass takes an eerie chug in succession. "I know who you are and what you meant to all of us." I grab his face and pull him back into the plot hole, where the roots dig in. Covering his eyes with the rags of my dress shirt coloured with a red x on the back. The muffled screams eventually soothe to a simper till he's asleep. I take the laced pointed edge of a sharp wooden stick and pierce the first, foremost, index and thumb. Leaving a red and pink persisting colour underneath his nails. He'll wake up soon. I rush to the next pack.
Patience is key and seemingly mindless with these four. I notice a pyro testing the insects and bugs. He's lighting a slowly burning coil in an attempt to draw the creatures with certain smells of the forest I shuffle my feet around to gain an understanding of his awareness. "Hey, does anyone know where 49 is?" And there it is that's all I needed to happen. "He was on the rocks at the treeline. Last I'd seen of him."Start digging the gravel. It isn't heavy, our feet are light and the short lifespan of the ecosystem is concrete.
The idiot still in strife with attracting the bugs starts adding sap from a stick meant to pierce, and wipes what's left on the end of the steel coil. That's unfortunate, hits the ground. "Hey, what the fuck?" The other in red-clad has the means to help him he just doesn't know it. I get up and walk towards him, "what's the matter with him? I think it's the bottle." I hand him a few blades of grass and tell him, "Chew this. It'll keep your body from rising in temperature." He's going...
(incomplete)