yawning lets it out

“…Briefly, there is no magic in the world. Everything is comprised of souls  like brick and mortar and, these days,  most have embraced conformity as reliably firm objects. One might think, given the discarding and splashing about of souls in which Man so often indulges, that much fresh and acquiescent material should be present. Consider first the third soul, that of Man’s Body: well accustomed to being solid. Number two is merely a fleeting print or signature that rides one’s Blood. But! It does lend authority to the primary soul residing within Man’s liver. Rather, the Breath stemming from thereabouts…”

vile yawn

The bald man was not worried at all how rude he must have appeared when he leaned across his guest’s lap to yawn. This, to his mad delight, made the other man’s eyes water. An involuntarily in-drawn breath hissed between teeth and then there was no stopping it. He yawned, too.

Had his arms not been secured to the chair, he might have politely covered his mouth. Instead, he deliberately turned his face away. Half-blind from squinting, he found the strange host again very near and catching yawn in an upturned vial.

“Mine now,” he chuckled, corking the glass tube.

feeling insignifigant

“See, the thing i realize now is that i need to be important in someone’s life,” I told her. “It’s why I’ve always tended to pick the strange girls, the ones on the fringe.”

“The outcasts.” Her arms were crossed, walling me off.

“Having fewer social options, my affection is instantly an important part in a girl like that’s life.”

“Great. So you’re a parasite?”

“Hey, that doesn’t make me a deviant.”

“Alright,” she sighed. “Still, that doesn’t change circumstances. It doesn’t change me.”

“Good relationships thrive on compromise…?”

“I’m imaginary.”

“That’s pretty minor!”

I glanced away as she glared.

paper gun

I hefted the angular rifle and looked it over. Where did you fold in ammo? For that matter, i did not even know what damage it did. Secretly glad that no one was there to see me taking such squeamish aim, i stepped back and shot the fallen soldier.

With a snap, the corpse jerked. An exploded hole was suddenly ripped up its side. Simple, white confetti and ropes of accordion-chained paper spilled out.

“Oh, Paper Christ!”

Somehow it was more vulgar than blood and gore. I wanted to throw the gun down. Instead, i looked up at the castle.

Provoked-Response Otherworldly Manifestation

“Stay frosty?” the radio squelched. “My visor’s covered in frost. I qualify. Just tell me what’s worth breaching containment.”

Gage wheeled over to the console. “There’s no sense to make in this manual. PROM engines aren’t supposed to stop. So… we poke around.”

Ker-klunk. “I think I just invalidated the warranty.”

“Invalidate harder. I’m not drifting to the next cluster on just momentum. Not alone with you.”

“Alone,” the scratchy radio rasped. She checked the video feed. Nothing.

“What? Peter?”

The radio whispered static. Gage spun around. The monitor wall dripped blood.

“You don’t know alone,” said a child’s voice.

Gears Like Swans’ Feet

The blows rained down but he did not flinch even as he huddled.

“Ow, he’s boney as…”

“He sells metal. His pockets, idiot.”

Someone continued to pound him with a fist as the other two worked to straighten his arm. Ience knew that to resist their efforts would only lead to stripped teeth. No chance of replacement.

Suddenly his arm flew up like a lever and the opposite shoulder dropped. Twisting clear in an unintended flourish, he looked down at the three of them. Ience reached past the curtain at his chest and pulled a mace from the cavity there.

a wizard’s travel journal 001

Day Eight (continued):

…See attached sketch. But, perhaps imagine it with rather less fire. I seem to have gotten somewhat carried away again.

Also, I have collected samples in no less than four distinct shades of green. Oh! Other members of my party have finally taken an interest! The large man with the axe came and stood beside me as i explained the difference between sacrifices to a mad god and scientific research. He accidentally trod upon and ruined the subject’s skull.  Admittedly, thereafter i didn’t have to talk so loud to be heard over the wailing as i sawed.

Sculptor

“so. what,” he pondered haltingly, “was your inspiration? for this. piece.” the art of conversation had long ago fled him, the virtues of patience and silence with it.

“you,” the sculptor said, intent on his chisels.

“oh. well. then, i like the wing.”

“thanks.”

“not that i had one.” he leaned over the working man and peered at a foot. “before,” the angel amended.

unfinished, rough-cut toes wiggled slightly on the pedestal. marble cracked and the last two digits fell with a clatter to the heaped white powder below.

“i’d have preferred working feet. first. if it’s all the same.”

Sucker

“Speak,” Goiterburg thundered. Monitors and indicators spread out around him blinked in the dark. Their glow reflected in the sheet of glass before him was not unlike a ring of flickering candles. “I command you!”

“Doctor.”

“What? WHAT?”

“Doctor,” the childish voice insisted. “Doctor.”

One at a time nodes were jerked from the tank, dripping. “You clearly have something to say. Have you forgotten English?” His hand on the knob of the octopus translator, he hesitated. Intellegent, dinnerplate eyes stared pointedly beyond him into the gloom. Could it be?

Too late, Goiterburg sensed the presence behind him.

“Doctor. Goodbye, doctor.”