SHOUTED CRIMSON MISTY FRANTICALLY GRAVE by Clara

Sitting at the grave of my father, I stared through the misty darkness, guarding. Waiting. The crimson moon shone down, making the drenched ground look soaked in blood. I must have waited for hours before I heard the inevitable battle cry. "CHARGE!" A lumbering brute shouted, his vague outline visible in the twilight. Frantically, I prepared myself for the Great War my father had started, and that I would finish. The Normals never knew what hit them. My telekinesis smashed through their brains, killing them instantly. Finally, the Abnormals were free to rule the Earth, as nature intended, once more.