S
Sauron
Sauron snored. His perfect form resting peacefully underneath piles of newspapers he was using as a blanket in the deepest pit of the sewers of Markov. The genius pterodactyl man had a slight case of the sniffles, and had drank over twelve bottles of Ny-Quil before passing out in the sewers of Manhattan, causing his current state. Finally, after two weeks of sleeping, he was beginning to stir awake from his self induced coma.
First, a twitch of his wing, stretching after eight days of remaining perfectly still. Next, his clawed hand flexing as every joint in his limbs started to pop, scaring the raccoons that had already been there before he plopped down in the sewer, whisked away to this strange new world of blasted hellscapes and space. The raccoons had left, when he first appeared, but they soon came back as he was just lying there. As Sauron sat up, slowly moving and groaning as his back just popped and he groaned as it was the most satisfying feeling in the world, he looked over to the raccoons that hadn't ran off.
Reaching over, he picked up a staff made of simple oak wood, gathered from Central Park, that housed a small, glowing green crystal of SCIENCE. He looked over, and he used it to help himself up as the mammals stared at him curiously. As he slowly got up, he gave a final stretch before aiming his staff down and blasting the filthy mammals with a beam of SCIENCE, transforming the lot into dinosaurs, except for one, a small runt. Petrified in fear from what had happened to his family, the raccoon did nothing as the towering dinosaur man stalked forward before being slashed apart by claws,
Sauron lifted up the remains and swallowed them whole, ready for the pellet that would come out later. Washing his bloodied hands off in the sewer water, he walked down the all too familiar maze that is a sewer, for no matter where you are in the multiverse, a sewer is a sewer. Large, spacious, and with often the same layout. This, and his coma, had caused Sauron to not realize that he was no longer on Earth.
Clawing his way up through the spacious tunnels that made the sewer's pipes, he eventually found his way to the outside, and was greeted by a very strange sight. New York must have hired a lot of very strange architects to redesign the city after some form of invasion, he thought to himself as he looked around the city of Markov. Crawling out of a storm drain, he looked over in the morning light to an obvious hobo sleeping outside.
Slowly walking over, he prodded the hobo with his staff until he woke up. To the human's credit, he did not panic when he saw Sauron. Instead, he gave him the bird, and said "Crab nipples!" Before laying his head back down on his... Trash pillow, muttering about how the damn voices are back, and with bodies. The old man thought he needed booze to help self medicate his mental problems. Sauron shook his head, and aimed his crystal staff at the old man, and shot him with the very beam of SCIENCE that had turned the raccoons into dinosaurs. Scheming little dinosaurs with thumbs, but still dinosaurs.
The old man began to grow, muscles ripping and reforming as bones snapped and grew together. Slowly, in the tattered remains of his old clothing the man stood up, having become larger than Sauron, with a great frill upon his head and with three great horns. His hands became long, and thick, each finger easily capable of crushing through solid concrete if pushed. The newly created beast of prehistoric perfection glared at Sauron, before he realized something.
The voices had stopped. Everything was clear. His mind, cured of all ailments; and this green dinosaur man in front of him, was to thank for such a blessing. Sauron smirked as well as he could as he watched the familiar scene play out in front him, as the old and sick of society were transformed, they realized all too readily what a blessing becoming a dinosaur truly was. The triceratops looked at Sauron, and asked a very simple question, "Who are you?"
Sauron looked to the skies and he laughed a small, quiet, dark chuckle.
"I am the future of humanity."
First, a twitch of his wing, stretching after eight days of remaining perfectly still. Next, his clawed hand flexing as every joint in his limbs started to pop, scaring the raccoons that had already been there before he plopped down in the sewer, whisked away to this strange new world of blasted hellscapes and space. The raccoons had left, when he first appeared, but they soon came back as he was just lying there. As Sauron sat up, slowly moving and groaning as his back just popped and he groaned as it was the most satisfying feeling in the world, he looked over to the raccoons that hadn't ran off.
Reaching over, he picked up a staff made of simple oak wood, gathered from Central Park, that housed a small, glowing green crystal of SCIENCE. He looked over, and he used it to help himself up as the mammals stared at him curiously. As he slowly got up, he gave a final stretch before aiming his staff down and blasting the filthy mammals with a beam of SCIENCE, transforming the lot into dinosaurs, except for one, a small runt. Petrified in fear from what had happened to his family, the raccoon did nothing as the towering dinosaur man stalked forward before being slashed apart by claws,
Sauron lifted up the remains and swallowed them whole, ready for the pellet that would come out later. Washing his bloodied hands off in the sewer water, he walked down the all too familiar maze that is a sewer, for no matter where you are in the multiverse, a sewer is a sewer. Large, spacious, and with often the same layout. This, and his coma, had caused Sauron to not realize that he was no longer on Earth.
Clawing his way up through the spacious tunnels that made the sewer's pipes, he eventually found his way to the outside, and was greeted by a very strange sight. New York must have hired a lot of very strange architects to redesign the city after some form of invasion, he thought to himself as he looked around the city of Markov. Crawling out of a storm drain, he looked over in the morning light to an obvious hobo sleeping outside.
Slowly walking over, he prodded the hobo with his staff until he woke up. To the human's credit, he did not panic when he saw Sauron. Instead, he gave him the bird, and said "Crab nipples!" Before laying his head back down on his... Trash pillow, muttering about how the damn voices are back, and with bodies. The old man thought he needed booze to help self medicate his mental problems. Sauron shook his head, and aimed his crystal staff at the old man, and shot him with the very beam of SCIENCE that had turned the raccoons into dinosaurs. Scheming little dinosaurs with thumbs, but still dinosaurs.
The old man began to grow, muscles ripping and reforming as bones snapped and grew together. Slowly, in the tattered remains of his old clothing the man stood up, having become larger than Sauron, with a great frill upon his head and with three great horns. His hands became long, and thick, each finger easily capable of crushing through solid concrete if pushed. The newly created beast of prehistoric perfection glared at Sauron, before he realized something.
The voices had stopped. Everything was clear. His mind, cured of all ailments; and this green dinosaur man in front of him, was to thank for such a blessing. Sauron smirked as well as he could as he watched the familiar scene play out in front him, as the old and sick of society were transformed, they realized all too readily what a blessing becoming a dinosaur truly was. The triceratops looked at Sauron, and asked a very simple question, "Who are you?"
Sauron looked to the skies and he laughed a small, quiet, dark chuckle.
"I am the future of humanity."