They’re so close. Just a few hundred feet more and I’d be free. But they’ve stopped digging.
I can still feel them up there, around. I’ll grab hold of their minds and tell them to start again, but none of them have the means: the diggers have left, or are dead; the machines are rusted away or broken up for scrap; there’s not enough compressed carbon left to make the cover story seem plausible.
Maybe I’ll make them all jump in. Maybe then someone would wonder why, and then come to dig, to find out.
Hell, it’s worth a shot.
It's so hard to grab hold of people's minds sometimes. Everyone's preoccupied and no-one's listening.ReplyDelete
Especially when you're a buried horrible demon thing...Delete