#A naturalist photographs a dead bird from the perspective of a bug in the flesh

[autistrix]

You are sitting in a diner booth enjoying your breakfast in peace. The rich smells permeate the air warmed by the window, and the atmosphere thrums with the energy of a dozen or so people chattering among themselves, punctuated with laughter.

The hairs on your neck begin to rise, but you aren't sure why. You continue to eat and hope the sensation goes away until you notice that every few moments, your coffee ripples. You begin to feel it in your feet, a slight vibration in time with the ripples. Then you hear it.

Thud... Thud... Thud...

A sound so deep that you aren't sure its really happening.

Thud... Thud... Thud...

The ripples grow deeper and dread bubbles in your stomach. Danger is coming. The diner's patrons quiet into a tense murmur.

Thud... Thud... Thud...

The diner creaks and shifts ever so slightly with every beat and the lights flicker. A baby begins to cry.

The sky grows dark. The danger is here.

𝙹⍑ ᔑ ↸ᒷᔑ↸ ʖ╎∷↸

You jolt in your seat as a disgusting sound meets your ears, like rusted metal warping in the cold.

Screams ring out as the danger wraps its meaty paw around the whole diner. Tableware crashes to the floor, plates shatter and glasses spill as the whole building is lifted. You press your face to the window to try and see the thing, but the view is obstructed by an enormous slab of obsidian, in center of which lies a circular gem. It's eerily beautiful. The gem's face is flat and clear, allowing you to almost peer into the black stone. The internal facets glitter green, like the flies who often visit the diner.

The longer you look, the deeper the chasm in the gem seems to go, deeper and deeper into the circle. You strain to see deeper, theres something twinkling at the bottom - but the twinkle erupts in a burst of white light so bright it burns. Again and again the gemstone flashes, again and again it burns, the pain making you faint as you weep. The sun will forever seem dim, if this should ever end for you to see it again.

⍑𝙹!¡ᒷ ℸ ̣ ⍑𝙹ᓭᒷ ᔑ∷ᒷリℸ ̣ ʖꖎ⚍∷∷||

The giant made its horrible noise again, making you shudder. As it sets the diner back on the ground, bile rises in your throat from the sensation of falling.

Thud... Thud... Thud...

You press your face to the window again as it lumbers off and manage a blurry glimpse of it. Its head is lumpy, obscured by many long cords. Most upsettingly, you only see two eyes, like nothing you've ever seen before. A circle within a circle within a circle. Two arms sprout from holes in its covering of plantlife which end in an array of jointed claws, clutching the obsidian slab and you cower, afraid that it will flash again.

Thud... thud... thud.......