Wooden Heart

The town fell silent as the night came crashing down upon the horizon.  The creak from the old wooden banners ceased to creak, the soft nay of the horses hushed as if the they had vanished, and the usual rustle of a tustle within the stained walls of the “Iron Lung” had been squelched.  The town wept and prayed for the ghost, nay the specter, that had come and gone without leaving the slightest mark of his deathly passing.

The mysterious rider felt the wind claw at his back as the lights danced beneath the moon in an arc.  A tingle, a rasp, a spark could be felt and seen spattering across the hardened, salted Earth as the mysterious rider pushed Slots into galloping further.  Slots’ muscles glistened with sweat as they pulsated with every sliver forward.  The rider laid low creating less resistance for Slots to more easily propel them forward through wasteland’s moon soaked sands.

Every dune that they rode past quivered and receded in fear of the pair.  As death approached and spread the sands in scattered despair the moon sunk as it sighed.

The rider rode.

As the next day fell into the night the town burned, and yet still the rider rode.  The timbers turned black as they were licked up by the flames.  The old creaks caused by the harsh winds upon the old desert town were replaced by the creaks of beams falling into sunken homes.  There were no screams.  There were no moans.  There was no sadness.  As twilight approached the smoke rose calling to the vultures and the only structure left standing was the “Iron Lung.”  It called to the destructor, it begged to be found, it wanted it’s tale to be told in whispers amongst the people of the old world.  It wanted to be known.

Slots continued with sparks escaping his hooves and fire from his nostrils.  The groans of moving metal could be heard in the distance.  Giant metal structures loomed in the distance; they swayed up and down with a constant ‘glug-glug’ as the black liquid of the Earth snaked it’s way to the crust.  Through the immense metal forest Slots ran.

And as the town burned the wells that surrounded Slots and his rider burst and licked in flames as well.

The moon yet again cried and sunk away in fright.

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