Chapter 15

The clouds overhead were lit with a pale reddish orange glow, skidding above on an unseen wind. A gibbous moon, pregnant with danger, peered down like a blind eye, giving the feeling of being watched by some lurking evil. The dark trees waved their branches menacingly, as if to grab the unwary, seeming to reach out with long shadows in the dim pale light of the pulsing moonlight. A slight figure appeared, running into the clearing, looking over it's shoulder anxiously, seemingly fearful of pursuit. With a flash of white blouse and a rustle of bustle, the sound of bare feet pattering on the frozen ground was almost drowned out by the rushing wind. Suddenly the sound of galloping hooves split the night, and with a rush, a dark hulking figure on a large and winded horse overtook the slight figure and snatched it into the saddle in front, hardly slowing. The slight figure writhed in the hulking figure's grasp, then smiled evilly as it grew two formidable fangs, sank them into the hulking figure's throat, and began to feed.

"Ok, cross that one off of the 'potentials list', we are NOT going there!" stated Freaky emphaticaly. Axorie changed the view that she was somehow manifesting on the large TV screen, and another scene was shown.

The bright sun shone down on the brilliant green sward, as tidy as a golf course, but at an even inch and a half. Patches of flowers in geometric clusters and primary colors, vivid and contrasting like a childs watercolor dotted the gently rolling hills. The sky was a dappled orange, and the trees and shrubs were bright neon shades. Suddenly, a nine foot tall purple plush dinosaur appeared from behind a hill, singing a stupid and annoying song. A tribe of short blue people with bulbous bodies and white caps and shoes contrasting sharply with their blue clothing burst from the neon forest and exploded into a competing song, nearly as annoying, and the combination was stunning to the senses and ears of the watchers.

"Stop it, stop it, change it please oh god!" pleaded Hardcase, writhing in agony, her hands clamped tightly over her ears as she banged her head softly against the back of the sofa. Axorie momentaraly blanked the screen, and everyone breathed out and slowly started to relax, their hands shaking as they sipped their beverages or wiped their brows. "Ok, let's see the next one." said Steetch reluctantly.

A farmer ploughed his field, his team of oxen pulling the wooden plough blade through the furough. The oxen gave a sharp pull at the crack of his whip and broke through a tough root. After finishing the field, the farmer let the oxen drink from the trough, and wiped his face on a hankerchief, then he gave a cough into it as he cleared some dust from his throat. He turned towards the viewers, and they saw he had only one eye, a large one centered in the middle of his face, just over the bridge of his nose.

"Well, we are not going to fit in there very well." claimed Steetch. "Next!" Axorie did her thing, and more images filled the screen.