Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-34263048-20181110104529/@comment-36855838-20181114141114

The vines coil tighter as I pull, and begin to drag me to the window, I grab a pair of scissors and begin snipping dilligently at the fibrous tendril.

Soon enough, the vine goes slack.

I head into my garage, vines have begun to creep in, a sickly white due to the lack of sunlight.

I grab my trusty weed and hedge clippers, and set to work.

I first trim the hooks which have embedded themselves into the wood, metal, and concrete, then I cut the vines themselves, spooling them like rope and setting them on the ever growing pile of vine clippings I've been using for fire wood.

I hurriedly dismantle the back yard vines, yanking free what I can from the wall.

I return those to the pile as well, before heading out back to see about the main flower.

It's grown to be some ten feet tall, still not yet in bloom, and my sloppy slicing job is apparent at my feet.

I begin the task of digging when I hear a woman singing.

Suddenly, the earth trembles, and the flower stands above ground on it's roots.

I retreat to my porch, and just then, the flower blossoms. Revealing a beautiful green-skinned woman. The flower walks towards me, and she turns with it.

The bloom tilts forward, showing her off, and some kind of fragrant fluid drips down.

Her arms stretch towards me, along with ten vines sprouting from around the bottoms of her 'legs'.

They grasp me, and I curse myself for discarding my blades. Desperate, I bite into the vine nearest to my head.