It's muggy and it's hard to breath.
Something's charging up in the air the pressures building.
The hairs stand up on someone's neck.
A buzzing noise and anticipation and someone looks up to the angry clouds and opens their eyes.
Then the strike comes hard and fast and electrifying and shocking.
Someone laughs and smiles and cries and screams as the electricity flies through their body setting everything on fire.
Someone is burnt and charred and collapses and dissolves into a pile of gray ashes.
And everything around them is gray and charred and ashes and dead.
And the air settles and the pressure relents and the storm goes away.
And the sun comes out and lights up everything except for the dull gray charred dead spot where the thrillseeker used to stand.
And the grass and trees and the top of the hill are all dead too.
And when the clouds come back angain or whenever a shadow passes over the dead spot,
A new bud and growth and sprout of a new thrillseeker comes up to welcome the strike soley for the moment of exhilerated torture that will kill them with its awesome power.
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