Writing Prompt #142 — Filth From Below

Prompt: The world is now essentially devoid of nature, making way for strange castle-like civilizations across the entirety of the Earth’s surface. Lately those near the bottom of these structures have been changing into horrific monstrous beings. Working their way up, feasting on those more fortunate.

Stone edifices sprung from the land once covered by greenery. Towers, castles; jutting monoliths spearing the clouds. More and more were raised; more and more was torn from the earth and fed to machinery. When all was done; when all the land was desecrated and only clustered artificial structures could be seen from one horizon to another; when all believed and loved was lost, we turned to the land below.

Deep in the caverns; deep in the wells; deep in the mud and loam and gruel of the underbelly. Sang to the beneath; whispered and rocked the sleeping ones awake; gave mind and body and every delicate fiber of our being. They chewed us up, and vomited us back out. The same, but changed. Those dwelling in the land above called us Monsters, roared that we were Filth, Abominations, but their words would soon die on their lips.

Up we moved, in a fury of viscera and flesh, drinking marrow from bones like they drank wine from chalices. Sipped on bile, danced and hollered in bowels and waste, painted declarations to the ones below in blood and piss. The structures became maelstroms of hideous carnage; giving way to unspeakable, fathomless acts and rituals. We ate and killed and fucked and repeated their actions. We were the ones in the castles now, and they were on our land.

When all was empty; when every edifice was bare and hollow, save for the waste left untouched, we descended to the below once more. With each fallen structure, we regained and regrew our land.

Soon, it would be what it was; soon, it would be home.

Read the previous prompt, “What Happened to Ruby?

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