By Michael M. Martino Jr.
December 24, 2012. I write this knowing there is very little time left for me and the few who have found a place of refuge from the horror—if only for a little while. It began with darkening skies three days ago and has turned into an unimaginable storm of death and despair. The ground has opened up like huge jaws of death, swallowing entire neighborhoods, streets, cars and people. Geysers of steam are rising from the center of the earth, emitting heat that previously was thought to exist only in the depths of hell itself. In the afternoon of December 21, a mountainous ocean wave fed by repeated tremors and massive quakes washed across the land. Those in waterfront communities were killed instantly, their bodies now littering the land like scraps of paper. All at once, the entire Earth seemed to tilt like an amusement park ride, and we became closer to the skies that were now filled with a choking stench of gas and death. The night sky was different than I have ever seen, and despite the cover of smoke the stars seemed to be close enough to touch. It was dazzling, but the beauty of the spectacle escaped me.
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