Blackest Night : Yours, Mine and Ours
Larfleeze has lived so very long knowing only the gnawing hunger of his greed that it has simply become a part of him. It is a painless ache that never leaves his limbs, a ghost the pressure of a splitting headache surging with each found object that he wishes to possess.
It drives him onward, forward, spurring him to consume as only agony or desperation otherwise could. He has begun expanding his reach, strangling the life from hundreds of beings and subsuming them one by one into a singluar consciousness dominated utterly by the need for MORE.
Each victim, mindless of their own will, rises to walk again, animated by the orange light and puppeted to the will of their master. His army is growing day by day, the restless dead swirling in his wake as he moves through empty space.
Pity ought to be taken on anyone who has something that Agent Orange wants.
Pity ought to be taken on Sinestro.
The tide of avarice catches up with him a few light years past Saturn.
"It must be mine..."
It drives him onward, forward, spurring him to consume as only agony or desperation otherwise could. He has begun expanding his reach, strangling the life from hundreds of beings and subsuming them one by one into a singluar consciousness dominated utterly by the need for MORE.
Each victim, mindless of their own will, rises to walk again, animated by the orange light and puppeted to the will of their master. His army is growing day by day, the restless dead swirling in his wake as he moves through empty space.
Pity ought to be taken on anyone who has something that Agent Orange wants.
Pity ought to be taken on Sinestro.
The tide of avarice catches up with him a few light years past Saturn.
"It must be mine..."