Francis' head feels heavy, the sun glaring down at him and he occasionally glowered back. Sweat slowly found it's way down his reddening face. He took a quick glance at the watch around his wrist and he furrowed his brows at it in frustration, Agitation. 'Only 10 minutes left...' He thought, his gaze back out upon the desert. Sand dunes were the only things in his line of sight alas, the only thing he cared about was hunting down his prey. Slipping down the sandy slopes he coughed the dust away, hoping his lungs would stay clear from it and then...He heard it. He stood still, the turban made from a jacket still wrapped around his head as he looked left and right. The ground started to shake. It was time. He held up the beeping device in his hand, a time bomb set to go off in just 8 minutes and the ground began to shake more, the thing he heard early finally coming to the top of land, up to breath.

The sand dunes began to quiver and the whole desert felt as if it were about to explode when one large sand dune exploded in a tsunami of rock particles. A gigantic worm, a time worm the size of a train to be exact had emerged from the depths of the ground, hungry and roaring for more to practice it's gluttony on. No. Not anymore. Francis ran, putting his plan into action at once as he raced toward his enemy, slipping his dagger out of its sheath. One large jump and he stabbed it into the large worm. He slipped out his other dagger and as the worm rushed across the desert, in between sand dunes and empty air, Francis stabbed it again and began to climb up the worms body, stab after stab, pulling his way up. Because of the beast, time had been rewritten, the very existance of planet. Earth had been consumed all by this. One. Creature. A time worm, set out by a planet so far and so old no one knew the name of it. That's where this creature came from, sent to harvest another planet's life to support those of another. But NO. MORE.

Francis had seen too many people die, his family, his friends...The whole fabric of reality had been ripped away right in front of his eyes and he couldn't take it. He repeatedly stabbed the worm and climbed up it's length, making his way to the most vital and dangerous place. The head. As he groaned against the sand whipping across his face, his DIY turban flew off into the wind of the worm that charged at 60 mph. One final stab and Francis pulled himself forward, forward to the place that would restore life...and his true love. His woman, the lady who respected him the most had gotten slaughtered by this foul /thing/. The worm roared in diffiance and picked up it's speed, looking for anything else to devour in the desert which once wasn't a desert at all. But Canada. That was the effect of the damage.

Francis panted in exaustion but he held on, muscles rippling as they strained against his efforts. He reached behind his back and pulled out his lightsaber, almost falling off to the sandy death pools below, but with one more groan of working passion he screamed. "NOT TODAY YOU BASTARD, CASSE-TOI!" And flipped the switch, stabbing the worm at the top of it's head and dragging the laser down to create a pus oozing slit of dead skin and blood. The smell was overwhelming and francis felt like passing out but he couldn't, not yet. A quick glance to his time bomb and he mentaly swore, the clock reading 30 seconds. He stuffed the bomb between the godawful slit, the sound of squishing and liquid making him naseuous . Then he let go. He flew across the disfigured back of the worm and into the air, landing on the ground with a crack as he lay, many bones now broken and he prayed, prayed for the end. And it arrived. Before blackness overcame his senses their was a bloodcurrdlinnggg roar and an explosion, a pool of blood and guts sliding under Francis as he now bathed in it and he knew it was finished. He had got his revenge. It was done. smiled before he blacked out to cold.

awaking in a park on a bench, blinking his eyes open rapidly and jumping up to see something beautiful, he almost began to cry. Everything was back the way it should be, there were kids on the swings laughing, a man walking his dog in the green, wet grass, a woman and her husband having an argument. He had done it. The Frenchman ran across the park, twirling like the happiest man in the world as he knew all was restored. The worm had exploded and things were set back to exactly as they were before the monster arrived. That ment one thing. Francis' true love was alive once again.

His legs carried him down the street quickly as he ran like his life depended on it, people casting the man strange glares as he pushed them aside. He had to get to her as soon as possible, to cry in her warmth and inhale the scent of her fresh beauty. Soon, a kid was knocked off their bike and Francis climbed on, having no shame as he peddled down the road and into the nearing countryside, his eyes briming with tears. She had to be okay. Why wouldn't she be! They had been spending time together before the attack...and that's when Francis swore his revenge. When that blasted worm came from a portal in the sky and flew down, and consumed every last piece and part of his lady. He had knelt over the ground she was killed on and wept, never having felt so lost at any time in his life without her...Thinking of it made his heart pound in desire and sorrow and he peddled faster. Whether it had been hours or minutes on that bike he did not know, but then he saw it. The quaint house that he lived in. There she would be...He jumped from the bike and ran, his heart beating from his chest as he flew the door open, ran past his wife, and into the backyard. For the first time in a long time he saw the thing he loved most. His precious, gorgeous vineyard. A few clumsy trips and he ran down her rows of vines, laughing happily and so joyful that he did weep. His hands caressed over her luscious Vitis vinifera. Eyes consumed the deep dark color of her flowing sauvignon varieties, glassy with tears and they reflected the beauty of what he beheld in front of him. This time, with a glad and humble heart. Never would he let go of his vineyard, again.

The end.