Purification In Insanity
The crystals shimmer in the darkness as they sway from side to side, while a thick red river coats the shards like a birds shit covers cars beneath a power pole. Samuel looks down with an uninterested gaze that flows past the crystals, past the dead and dying, and into the very rocks beneath, as if he was trying to will them into moving.
“Flippant are those that call for a separation of the segregation, as their power will half in a microsecond and then compound it into a dust soon after. We are growth because of those that link into the hive mind, and in that we are all powerful.” he sneers as he looks recklessly over to the tightly bound David, and swishes around the fine film of thick saliva that up until several short steps ago coated the palate of his mouth. “Do you disagree?” he asks before spitting into the crevasse.
“Does it truly matter what any of us think?”
“Once it did, and now it is of no consequence. The birds buzz, the flies lay their eggs, and the maggots grow ever so from the dead flesh you carry around with you day by day. So, your words are worthless, but your flesh is a cavalcade of vulgarity that must be cleansed!” he hisses, as he nods his head and David is thrust into the geysers mouth.
The intricacies of my insanity 