Experimental Waffle 1

Author’s Note: Been struggling to get anything down, so this is just some exercise/experimental tosh to try and get things moving. Content may mutate and try to devour people.

The jungles burned from the firestorm that washed over them. The once blue sky was stained umber from the fierce glow of flame and the rolling clouds of smoke. He couldn’t stop to care though. He had to keep running. He had to press onwards past fierce machines and wily opponents.

He had to go faster.

I got the oddest status update from Facebook on my phone, standing in the odd little sweet shop at the funfare in the middle of nowhere. A man with a balding head and thick-rimmed glasses, not in my friends list, posted the following: “I’m sorry for all the murders.”

I looked up at the man behind the counter, noting that thinning hair, those chunky glasses, and paused. Should I buy his sweets to appease him? He did have those little toasted teacakes, after all…

They say that no man is an island but, when the giant Madregin fell to the basilisk and tumbled into the ocean, he soon proved them wrong.

“This isn’t a cake fork!” She sobbed, hurling the cutlery across the room. “It has three tines! It’s a cake trident!”

Just looking at it sickened him. The way his arm joined with the metal, skin seeping into steel? It made the bile rise in his throat. There was no neat definition between man and machine, just a horrible, twisted blend going into the forearm. It was as if forearms, metal and flesh, were striving to occupy the same point of space. The metal was winning.

He was flying so high and the summer sun was scorching. His wings burned.

It just went to show that even demons needed sunscreen.

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