“So this is Earth.”
The tourists gingerly side-stepped those who'd met their doom on this now-silent battleground.
“They’ve hardly decomposed. They look like wax replicas.”
“What a project, to clean THIS mess up.”
”Chalk it up to another slaughter over whose imaginary friend is best?”
“My guess is, fighting over ‘ownership’ of something. Gold, maybe.” Snickers.
“Like a sailor, to a siren! Gold, for sure.”
“They could have have opted to harness the timeless wisdom of the Akashic Records, but instead...” Murmurs of agreement.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement-
“It’s a TRAP!”
One by one, the “bodies” begin to rise.