As time went on, the shrub began to wither and die. Small amounts of dirt were blown into the hole, raising its bottom a few inches. Grass began to slowly encroach upon the circle, reducing its size and destroying its symmetry. Saplings began to sprout inside and out of the circle, trying to replace the parts of the forest that were destroyed. In time, the damaged part became healthy again, indistinguishable from the rest of the forest except for the decreasing hole in its center.

One afternoon in early October a large thunderstorm broke over the area, completely drenching the landscape and filling the whole with water. As the rain began to abate, small animals came out of their hiding places seeking foot and fresh water. A few of the less timid ones came to the filled hole, seeking its clear waters.

As they drank, a murky cloud began to rise from the bottom, clouding the water slowly. The animals barely noticed until a muddy tentacle darted out of the shrinking puddle and grasped a squirrel around the neck. The sudden movement caused them all to bolt for the trees, leaving the one animal squirming until in finally went still. Air bubbles began to disturb the surface of the water, sending small gushes of mud out of the surface briefly before sinking back into the water. The muddy tentacle tightened, snapping the animal's neck, and then causing its head to be torn off. A small amount of blood flowed from the neck and was immediately absorbed by the tentacle.

Great gushes of mud began bursting above the surface of the puddle, sending fountain upon fountain of water high into the air. The gouts of water pulled the squirrel's body and encircling tentacle back into its cloudy depths. Small rocks began to be tossed out onto the surrounding land. The water shot out of the hole more forcefully, causing it to spray in all directions. The water level in the hole rapidly diminished. The water continued to fly out of the hole until only a small mist rose from its depths.

Standing straight in the center of the crater was the shape of a man. He was covered in dark brown mud, so thick that his physique was totally obscured. The mud shuddered for an instant and then suddenly burst open, flying in all directions at once. A man clothed in impeccable eighteenth century nobleman's clothes stood unmoving as the muddy water slowly filled his dress shoes. His eyes remained open but did not blink. His arms hung straight at his sides and his head was slightly slumped forward. His light brown hair ruffled in the wind, the only part of his body that moved at all.

Days passed without a single movement from the figure in the hole. The mud around his feet dried in the sunlight, quickly becoming a thick cement. The animals completely ignored him, accepting him as possibly another tree or plant. An occasional bird would perch on his shoulder, then fly off a short time later, completely untouched.

The spring time sun lengthened into summer and still no change occurred in the figure locked into the mud. The sun, wind, and animals slowly eroded his clothing until holes and tears appeared in his velvet and linen. His hair did not grow any longer, and the sun produced no visible tan in his skin. Time passed slowly, but seemed not to affect the lone figure in the dirt at all.

During a cloudy day in mid-July, a small amount of rain began to fall. As the raindrops fell upon the man in the hole, his body began to quiver and vibrate. The sprinkling turned into a steady rain and the man began to vibrate so much that his movements caused an aura of distorted images to spring up around him. The wind began to blow, tearing at his hair and tattered clothing. The plants within fifty feet of him began to move wildly, all seeming to point away from him, as if trying to flee. Twigs, leaves, and small rocks began to fly into the air, circling in mad cyclones before being carried away.

The man began to rise up into the air on what looked like a column of tree roots. He slowly turned as he ascended, as if searching about the surrounding countryside for something. Light began to radiate outward from him, bright enough to cast shadows in the cloudy midday. As the light touched the few remaining pieces of branches it incinerated them, leaving only small amounts of ash that were quickly blown away in the quickening wind.

Coming to a stop about five feet in the air, the figure stopped rotating with his face pointed westward, eyes closed. The wind stopped almost instantly and the scorching light quickly receded to a slight glow in his skin. The root under his feet began to withdraw upwards, seeming to coil into the soles of his feet before disappearing. He hovered in mid-air for several long hours, as still as the rocks far beneath his feet. His face remained utterly emotionless with mouth and eyes closed, and no perceptible breaths being taken.

Twilight approached and there was still no change in the hovering figure. The sun began its slow descent through the trees to the distant horizon, first deepening the blue, then setting it afire. As the last sliver of the orange sphere dipped below view, a howl filled the country side. The earth trembled and trees fell. Wildlife in far reaching areas dropped dead, their hearts frozen in terror as the mournful cry rent the evening air. After several long minutes, it slowly tapered off, leaving an utterly silent and completely still landscape. The figure, still completely unchanged in posture, slowly drifted to the ground several feet to the west of the crater in the ground.

As the moon began to rise and shed its first silver rays upon the motionless figure below, his eyes suddenly flew open. "God, it feels great to be awake again."