EPTHigh Literature is about language, humanity, purple-green colored clouds, girls, poetry, joy, third century robots, love, evil tongues that give eternal pleasure, dead butterflies, marshmallow caves, swimming on velvet blankets, jumping on a lake, and everything that tickles the intellect, makes the heart feel sublime emotions, and opens your mind about life, truth, the universe, and all things bright and wonderful. It is my way of contributing my talent and my heart to TL. Enjoy!
Hi guys, we are really down to the wire now, and the action is getting more intense and the suspense is getting more dramatic. Thank you as always for the replies and comments and messages. Here is the fourth chapter. Cheers!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
ApocalypZe!
Chapter 4: The Land the Was
In the Desert
As it was said. So it was written. So it will come to pass. And the so it did. A group was summoned. Out of the nights that covered me. Black as the pit, from men of the old land they called Africa. It was all a desert now after the intense global warming. All the ice caps have melted and what is left is barren dry wasteland.
After enjoying my second marathon of the day, I arrive at a small oasis which once was among the highest mountain of the world. I relax myself to a leather-bound lazy boy that finds itself stranded in the wasteland. As I was humming a soft hymn to myself, celebrating my victory over the banal existence of life, there is was, a soft murmur. There was a movement in the sand. It is a scorpion. It is not. It is too big to be a scorpion. I take out the huge metal pipe that I had hidden in my bag and beat the shit out of it. I could not see it because it is under the sand, but it is big. After 30 minutes of continuously beating it, blood was all spewing out, mixing with sand.
It emerges. A hand. A left hand. A human left hand. All torn and broken from my beating. The rest of the man emerges. "I am Canadian, lol. So peace." Ok. We form a mighty duo, braving all the harshness and loneliness of the dystopia.
Urban Jungle
We finally manage to set up camp in the city. There are a lot of empty houses, so there are a lot of food for us. We move around a lot, looking for people to become part of our group. First a singer. "Good jaw and throat", I thought to myself. Will do for some fellatio. Then a dancer. No good. A strong built 6 foot 3 military man, a tactitian, with a master's degree in economics. He is also a survival expert. Could come in handy. He is in. Then Writer, no. A painter, maybe. And on the darkness of the night, there he was. General Hand himself. General Hand again. General Blaz N. Hand. I rush to him and force my hand in his mouth, reaching down all the way to his intestines. I do it repeatedly, as if his mouth was his vagina, and the witness of his esophagus like pussy juice. I fuck Blaz N. Hand's mouth vigorously with my hand, fully reacing down and out, making 5 repetitions of such per second. Finally, after a few minutes of fucking his mouth, General Blaz N. Hand orgasms with his mouth, ejaculating all the dead birds, sticks, plastic, balls, and hair that he has been eating all this time. Then we return to the recruitment.
Finally we are a good group of 20 people with different expertise and personalities.
The Red Rabbit
We are a solid group. A few skirmishes and quarrels here are there, but generally respectful towards each other. We function perfectly as a group. Sustainable solar powered electricity. Vegetable and fruit garden. Wind powered technology. Grass-powered technology. Wood gas. Looting teams. Defense. Some free-range cows. Moots and catapults. We receive an invitation:
Dear fellow survivors,
We have all made it. Maybe we can join groups, what do you think? More manpower, more resources. We have a farmland too. Come tonight, in formal wear, 7pm, lat'51 long'223, black gate. Party lights will be on, you will know you're in the right place.
Sincerely,
Mad Maxxx Group
We have all made it. Maybe we can join groups, what do you think? More manpower, more resources. We have a farmland too. Come tonight, in formal wear, 7pm, lat'51 long'223, black gate. Party lights will be on, you will know you're in the right place.
Sincerely,
Mad Maxxx Group
An invitation we cannot refuse. We take a bath, each of us the longest we've ever had since day zero. use our best soap and shampoo and lotion. Take out or best coat and ties and tuxedos and dress for women, and our lucky underwear too.
Indeed it is easy to find. Beam lights and christmas lights like there is no electricity shortage. "Mad Maxxx Group Castle"
on the gateway arch. "Welcome friends", it adds.
There
is a ton of eating and drinking. Roast beef. Roast chicken. Salads. French cuisine. Beer from Germany. Pot from Mexico. Everything you could ever wish for. Before we start, a fat man from
the south of USA stands up and enjoins everyone to a prayer.
The feast begins. Friendship is in the air. A treaty is signed. We are one group at last, forever, forevermore. Overflowing wines. Laughter. Dance. Song. Fireworks.
And then the music becomes somber.
"I will not die todaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!" The Mad Maxx king stands up!
"Yes you will", little bernie from our group quips, slashing the king's throat with an axe. The rest of the 19 from the group then went to town killing everyone else.
I stood there shocked.
What is this. This is too violent.
Then I went for the most important kill of all. The young Mad Maxx princess. I stab her stomach fifteen times. She is pregnant. Eight months. She falls to the floor. Her husband, the Mad Maxxx Prince, hit by an arrow to the knee, slowly crawls toward her. He applies pressure to the wounds that I made on his wife's stomach. There is still bleeding. He presses harder, and out her vagina exits the baby. He cuts the umbilical cord with his mouth. The baby cries for a while. Smiles. And dies. The prince also dies of exsanguination from the wound on his knee.
But then...
What about the dragons?
Oh noooo, we are doomed now. What have we done.
(...to be continued...)
