By Mike X. Vinson
In a world where humanity had long exploited the Earth’s resources, nature simmered in silence, biding its time.
The cities grew taller, the forests shrank smaller, and the cries of the land were drowned out by the roar of machines and the bustle of civilization.
But deep beneath the surface, an ancient consciousness stirred one that had watched and waited, absorbing the pain and destruction wrought by humankind.
It began on an ordinary day when the sun shone brightly, and the air was filled with the hum of life. People went about their routines, oblivious to the shift happening beneath their feet. The roots of the earth, once dormant, began to awaken, crawling slowly like a slumbering beast roused from its long sleep.
They twisted and turned, seeking vengeance against those who had forgotten their bond with nature. The first signs of the awakening were subtle.
A young woman named Electra was walking through a park, her mind consumed by her phone, when she stumbled upon a strange, gnarled root protruding from the ground. It pulsed with a life of its own, and as her foot brushed against it, the earth trembled. In an instant, the root shot upwards, piercing through her skin, entering her body through her eyes and mouth, a grotesque invasion that sent waves of agony coursing through her.
Screams echoed through the park as others began to feel the wrath of nature. The trees that had silently endured the chains of humanity unleashed their fury. Branches twisted and elongated, breaking free from their trunks as they reached for those who had disrespected them.
People fell to the ground, writhing in pain as roots burrowed into them, merging flesh with bark, limbs with branches. As the chaos spread, the city transformed into a nightmare.
Streets cracked open as roots erupted from below, tearing through asphalt and concrete.
Buildings were entwined in vines, their glass facades shattered by the force of nature reclaiming its teritory. The air filled with the sickly sweet scent of sap mixed with the metallic tang of blood.
Those who survived the initial onslaught were left in a state of horror and confusion. They could feel the trees pulling them closer, their bodies merging with the very essence of the earth. Eyes rolled back in their heads, mouths agape in silent screams, they became unwilling participants in a grotesque symbiosis.
The trees fed off their pain and fear, and in return, they became part of the forest—their souls intertwined with nature, forever lost to the world they once dominated.
The forest expanded, swallowing entire neighborhoods, reclaiming what was rightfully its.
The ground was littered with remnants of humanity’s clothes, belongings, and the twisted forms of those who had been absorbed into the trees. It became a living picture of suffering, a testament to the earth’s vengeance.
As the days turned into weeks, the remaining survivors lived in a world transformed. The beautiful parks they once frequented had become dense jungles, filled with grotesque figures, people fused with trees, their faces twisted in eternal agony, their voices sounded like Jacob Marley. The air hummed with a dark energy, a reminder that nature had not been forgotten and was now, more than ever, a force to be reckoned with.
In this new reality, the few who remained understood the lesson that had been brutally taught.
They had taken too much and given nothing in return. As they walked through the remnants of their civilization, they could hear the whispers of the trees, a haunting reminder of their past transgressions.
The earth had been patient, but now it was alive, and it would never forget.
The world had changed, and with it, the balance had been restored.
Nature had reclaimed its dominion, and humanity was left to witness the consequences of its hubris a living monument to the wrath of the very earth they had sought to conquer. In their final moments, they realized that they were not the masters of the planet they were merely guests, and the earth had grown tired of their presence.
Mike X Vinson
Julia Kalman 