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the unchoosen

by mistah crim | Score: 5150

A loud crack like the splitting of timber echoed across the smooth stone tiles of the quaint bridge. There was something strange about it, pertaining to the rather ghoulish hour of the night in which there was little chance that the noise came from a nearby timberjack hard at work. Perhaps a tree had simply given way beneath the trials of time, or perhaps something more sinister lurked in the shadows.
"Shut up" he spoke in the general direction of the noise.
Perhaps his bluntness would have been appreciated by the more coy creatures of nocturnal habit. It was to his misfortune that his correspondence would meet him with no such ramifications.
From out of the darkeness a radiant figure gliding high into the eye on angelic wings, blinding him with light ten times more powerful than the sun that rendered his sensitive eyes blind in an instant. He screamed and fell to the cold stone floor, the result of an excess in both shock and pain. He felt the ground give way beneath him, though not due to a strucutral imperfection. He was floating, upwards as it were and quite fast given the wind that whipped at his ears. It was then that his sight was returned to him, illuminating the world once more though not in the cowl of darkness as the moon overhead would have it. He could see endlessly, a metophorical third eye having sprouted within him that showed him so many colors, so many things!
"What is happening!?" He shouted.
"Oh, my. This noise was not meant for you," a hushed voice whispered somewhere in the ether. 
"What do you mean? What is happening to me!" He presssed.
His questions saw no answers to be had when he begun to float toward the ground. He landed gently on the bridge once more, frozen in disbeleif and shock enough to test his waking consciousness. With a trembling hand he reached into his pocket, pulling from within a small incense stick that would perhaps pull him back beiyond this metaphysical realm. He held it close to his nose and took a large whiff, gripping tightly to the smell of ginger and sage that ran through his diaphram. It certianly helped and he felt much better, though his ails were only temporarily abated.
The wind cracked light thunder as a rod of light bent and curled toward him from the sky at the tip of the angels fingers. It struck him crudely across the back, searing him with a grotesque scar that seared his vision with red pain. 

Completed challenges

The following challenges were completed during the writing exercise:

Begin Start typing to begin
Location A bridge
Event There's a strange noise
Words Reach 50 words
Sentence "Shut up."
Letter Use the letter W
Words Reach 100 words
Character An angelic labourer
Letter Use the letter S
Words Reach 200 words
Event Someone gains superpowers
Sentence "You shouldn't have heard that."
Words Reach 300 words
Words Reach 400 words

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