witches screeching

Thunder cackled like witches screeching. The clouds were hanging low and were noxious. Electricity sparked in the air, giving off a dangerous feeling. The hair on one’s neck and head rose along with the perpetual goosebumps. This was a dangerous place. This was also one of the epicenters. To the naked eye, once, the shadow rajah could not be seen. Now, you could almost make him out. He was standing tall and proud. Chest out, long, soundly legs. Huge arms. You would feel a fear rising, closing up your throat, almost as if you were going through anaphylactic shock. You would rub your eyes and nine times out of ten, he would disappear. You would sigh, hoping to be relieved. You would not be relieved. The fear would be there. It would not go away. In fact, it might get worse. Now your primal monkey brain would wonder where he might come from. Would he be behind you? Your ears would prick, your neck tingle, you would jump around. Nothing. Other side. You could go mad from all of this. Thankfully, the shadows turned away anyone crazy enough to be out and about in this place. They planted the seeds of doubt and uncertainty like they had been taught to do by their master. They were good at manipulating your worst feelings, at intensifying them. He did not need to feed. Not on these maggots. Not anymore. The board gave him the power. If and when he needed to feed, the shadows would bring him a human. Depending on his craving, it could be a normal one, one of those you call afflicted with mental problems. It could be one of the truly evil ones, if he wanted a real feast. But few of those remained. Truly evil? No. Very few. Mischievous. Copies. Bad. Yes, of those there were plenty. Those ones probably outnumbered any of the others. Those also tasted the worst. They were the ones with weak wills, having given in to the temptations presented by his minions. The earth was a hotspot. Some places were burning up. Others were relatively normal. This was one of the epicenters. The board cast a purple glow everywhere. The men had wrinkles, had skin that looked like sandpaper, and if you touched it, would probably crumble like sand. He wondered what they would taste like. Would it be the delicious tang of the power he felt from the board? Or would they taste like rot? Would they taste like some of the old ones like the ones who ran those camps and then ran away? Would their flavor reflect their regular lives? But each of them had had boring lives. He had observed them when they had been chosen. Nothing interesting. He wondered what they would taste like. He smacked his lips and waited. The trees around had fallen into disarray. Frozen in time now. Right before the rot took over them. Other things had grown up all around them. He looked at them curiously. He had spent all this time on this planet yet had never seen anything like these new things. Shapes. Twisted. Curled. A kaleidoscope of colors.