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Message: <blockquote data-quote="izillama" data-source="post: 5142956" data-attributes="member: 79171">[sblock]"Clover, dear, eat your vegetables."Catherine Edwards' calm, yet commanding voice sounded from the other end of the dining table. Clover looked up from her morning coffee to stare at her mother's sad, gray eyes down the other end of the table. She quirked an eyebrow, defiant, "I will when I will, mother.""Clover, dear, your vegetables are going to waste. You'll be late for school.""I will, mother."Their eyes locked and a beam of sunlight peeked in from the high stained-glass windows. The cuckoo clock on the wall chimed 8 o'clock: one-two-three-ten times..."Clover, dear, your vegetables are getting cold. Why won't you eat them? Your father will be picking you up from school any time now.""I don't want them.""Clover, dear, eat your vegetables.""I"m not hungry.""Clover, dear, why won't you eat your vegetables?" The syllables of her last question stretched out into infinity: Almost as infinitely long as the dining room table. Catherine was getting harder and harder to see. Just a tiny speck, way down the other end of the oak slab they called a table. Clover's eyes dilated as she watched the table stretch--farther and farther. The room was beginning to elongate. Chairs were showing up out of thin air on both sides of the table as it grew. And her mother got farther and father away. But she could still hear her voice."Clover, dear, why won't you eat your vegetables? It's almost time for school."Clover looked down at her plate. The broccoli and brussel sprouts looked back at her with big, glassy eyes. They chimed together, imploringly, "Cloooooover, deeeeeear, why won't you eaaaaat usssssss?"Clover stood in alarm, knocking over her coffee as she did so. The teacup she had been drinking it from tipped over and sloshed the liquid all over her plate of vegetables. The broccoli and brussel sprouts gasped in alarm then screamed in pain as they drown in a sea of red: blood spilled from the coffee cup.And still Catherine got farther away. "No... mother!"Clover hopped up onto the table, running to keep up with its expanding length, dodging over porcelain serving bowls and perfectly polished silverware. She barely made any headway.The stained glass windows moved by her: each window showing a different image in vivid, graphic detail: her and Mindy going out on Halloween night, Clover encountering Koln for the first time, Clover waking up in a dark basement, Clover drinking Ruby's blood. The images kept coming in beautiful stained glass detail. And still, Catherine became farther away. Finally, Clover stopped running and simply watched her mother fade into the distant expanse of the dining room. She stood, lonely, on top of the crisp white table linens, and she raised her hand in farewell as she realized it was useless. A rumble sounded from behind Clover, and she turned in time to see brussel sprouts the size of dinner plates rolling their way down the table towards her.They growled menacingly in deep, tenor voices, "Eaaaaaaaaaaat usssssssssss!"The room suddenly grew brighter, and the sun caused the glass windows to shatter. Stained glass rained down on Clover and the brussel sprouts, skewering the vegetables--who cried out in screeching pain.Clover smiled as the flying glass sliced through her own skin: colored shards sticking into her and turning her into a shining, bloody mess. She laughed at the dying brussel sprouts and sneered as their green blood leaked out over the table.Then, she felt warmth on her back and turned to see the sun shining full-out in front of her.And she burst into a ball of fire... and disintegrated. [/sblock]Clover twitched in her sleep. She didn't wake, but merely grumbled, "Damn you... brussel... sprouts..."</blockquote>

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