The Sickness of the Parkplants

The sick were pulling themselves out of their houses, crawling, dragging themselves towards some other place. The state of these homes would seem to indicate that many had begun to develop symptoms while stood inside. In the center was a figure from whom the rot clearly flowed. He sat upon a most dreadful throne, formed from her dozen. Two dozen bodies mixed together like putty. Eyes staring out like horror-stricken stars twinkling in the night and their hearts beating for all to see. A moaning came from that awful seed, voices trying to scream through things that weren't their throat. And it is a sound I shall be glad to leave behind me when I go to my rest.

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