And the ground shook, the rumble of the Earth overpowered the deep anguish of the people's cries and the ground tore open like a wound. The people sigh over their dead crops, dead cows and dying children, salty sweat burning their bloodshot eyes, they wipe the stinging sweat from their foreheads smearing the blood of their bruised and bleeding hands.
"Even the land has turned against us, what more can we do?"
And the earth only tore wider and shook more violently.
It tore painfully, slowly through the once lush, green lands now dusted a pale brown and trampled by the heavy boots of exploitation, overuse, and neglect. The once bright and busy streets are scattered with rusted, decaying vehicles and buildings that have long collapsed from neglect and the people who scavenge to mend their shelter, their only purpose now to remind people of the past. The imposing magnificent mountains have been flattened along with the hope and freedom they once stood for and all the people can do is mourn.
They cried and shouted, spitting up blood, losing their once triumphant voices but the people's masters would never open an ear as they sip wine and break bread at the table. The people beg for a single drop and the gold goblet is lowered to feed them a sneering smile.
And the land tore painfully.
"Would you like another chance?"
Their voices boomed through the land like thunder and their golden eyes flashed like lightning. Truly terrible figures they were climbing out of the torn earth as the strong winds flung around what was left of the mostly barren land and the rains flooded trapping the people in their houses, but these mysterious creatures strolled past their makeshift shelters as though they brought the storms solely for their entrance. At eight feet tall they walked upright in ethereal grace and power, a power that had the people avoiding their seemingly all-seeing, unblinking eyes that swept past every face. Despite the raging storm, some stepped out in the rain to investigate the creatures.
"Who you?!" The people screamed in a deep accent and broken English, the only thing left behind by their masters. The rain battered against their bodies which in contrast glided over the rich, deep brown skin of the visitors. Their skin was the color you would imagine the untouched earth would be at the depths, ripping in places to reveal the golden material of their bones at the ribs, joints, and parts of their skull and spine. They had the silhouettes of men and women but even a blind man could tell they were neither, the visitors walked side by side no one ever taking a lead and when one spoke it felt as though they all did.
"Another chance would you like it?" they spread their arms invitingly palms turned upward with imploring eyes, the chaotic storm behind them. Every word and every movement is executed with a purpose with certain finality just like the storm that brings both destruction and life.
They looked at no one yet everyone as silence drowned out the storm.
"What more do we have to lose?"
The people look towards the gaunt faces of their children, the large watery eyes forever begging, searching to fill their stomachs and quell their hunger. They look past them and see the mounds of unmarked graves amongst their crops that they labour even in death to work the land.
Turning bloodshot eyes upwards to meet the golden orbs of the supernatural figures with skin rich and deep like untouched earth, the visitors' heads are tilted to meet the people's eyes rather than looking down from their noses.
"Can you give us back our mountains?"
"As you wish"
