The man was an insignificant flea before the gaping majesty of the black hole. Sweat beaded upon his high-arched, coarse brows; his mouth once agape, now curved into a sinister smile. His deep, purple eyes shimmered, reflecting the unimaginable scene before him.
Bodies, putrid in stench, all bloodied and beaten, sprawled before him.
He savored each moan, each cry, each plea; playing elatedly, bobbing along to the sycophantic orchestra of their immense suffering.
The chorus of cries grew, swelling, thickening, curdling so loud it could be heard in the void of empty space. Their broth‑breaths bloodied this vacuum, breathing. Their gesticulations became more and more erratic.
And then...
Silence.
Dead silence.
The dead silence was dead, hung, drawn, and quartered; buried with the rest.
He savored it.
A single second. Another second. Waiting in anticipation he raised his chewed, yellow-stained fingernails as though conducting this pause.
His hand jittered, waiting for a climax.
BOOM.
Their bodies burst like boils; brains, bones both tore free from their bodies. Their meat fed the mouth.
Crunch. Smash. Swallow. Burp. People, all consumed without mercy, feasted on by the black hole's ravenous maw, now dead.
Millions upon millions. Trillions upon trillions. It consumed, and consumed, and consumed, until only one word remained to describe the scene:
'Calamity'
And even this collapsed into nothingness.
As if born from the chaos, a crack cleaved this once‑virgin void in twain.
Through it came an ethereal purple light, its tendrils reached forth to grab this man.
His once handsome and jovial complexion had long since perished.
His lips trembled. His eyes bled red. The joy that once covered his pale, unkempt face withered into condensed fear as he was swallowed.
Then he was gone.