[In response to style 92 saying, "Should have cremated the guy. Let's see Satan trying to reanimate a pile of ash."]
Every eye was trained on the urn. Had it really moved, or was it some trick of the light? Now there was total silence. It seemed that everyone was holding their breath.
It moved noticeably and a faint plonk, as if someone had poked the urn, drifted out over the loudspeakers. Many gasped, no one knew what to think.
It moved again, another plonk, more gasping.
Plonk, plonk, plonk. The urn jolted further sideways.
Plonk, plonk. It teetered on the edge of its stand.
Plonk. The urn tipped off of the stand and shattered on the stage.
The ashes spilled out. For a moment they were still on the stage, then it seemed a wind picked up. The ashes began to blow across the stage. Then they spun into a whirlwind. Finally the cloud of ashes formed into the shape of a man.
"What the Hell people? I step out for a few days and this," he gestured to his [lack of] body, "happens." More gasping, several people fainted. "You are all on notice."
Suddenly he noticed a gun in the crowd, security had not improved in his absence. It was a tribble. He wasn't sure which, they were all the same to him. The tribulation saint screamed something, Nicolae thought it was, "Why won't you die?" but if it had been a question surely the tribble would have waited for an answer.
The bullets passed harmlessly through Nicolae's particulate form, leaving vortexes of air in their wakes. Moments later he reformed into the shape of his former body. "That wasn't very nice. My turn." Nicolae lunged forward and lost any hint of human form.
The coroner would describe it as death by a thousand paper cuts, but in truth there were many more than a thousand cuts left on the Christian's body and it was a fine ash, not paper, doing the cutting.
It moved noticeably and a faint plonk, as if someone had poked the urn, drifted out over the loudspeakers. Many gasped, no one knew what to think.
It moved again, another plonk, more gasping.
Plonk, plonk, plonk. The urn jolted further sideways.
Plonk, plonk. It teetered on the edge of its stand.
Plonk. The urn tipped off of the stand and shattered on the stage.
The ashes spilled out. For a moment they were still on the stage, then it seemed a wind picked up. The ashes began to blow across the stage. Then they spun into a whirlwind. Finally the cloud of ashes formed into the shape of a man.
"What the Hell people? I step out for a few days and this," he gestured to his [lack of] body, "happens." More gasping, several people fainted. "You are all on notice."
Suddenly he noticed a gun in the crowd, security had not improved in his absence. It was a tribble. He wasn't sure which, they were all the same to him. The tribulation saint screamed something, Nicolae thought it was, "Why won't you die?" but if it had been a question surely the tribble would have waited for an answer.
The bullets passed harmlessly through Nicolae's particulate form, leaving vortexes of air in their wakes. Moments later he reformed into the shape of his former body. "That wasn't very nice. My turn." Nicolae lunged forward and lost any hint of human form.
The coroner would describe it as death by a thousand paper cuts, but in truth there were many more than a thousand cuts left on the Christian's body and it was a fine ash, not paper, doing the cutting.
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