Redi had few breaths left. The ghost and his dog appeared between breaths.
“Come to collect my soul?” she asked, with a strained smile.
He bent near her face. The scent of burning flesh was surprisingly comforting to Redi. The dog laid both heads in her lap. She could feel their weight.
“I’ve come to help you remember your destiny, as I always have before,” he said.
“I don’t have time for your word games,” she said through clenched teeth.
“This game is done. You’re very close to the last Gate, and returning to me and where you belong.”
The dog’s heads were heavier on her lap. Redi shook her head and coughed blood. “Last gate?”
He leaned close to her face. His tongue flicked out and wet the inside of her right ear.
Her true identity crashed back into her mind. She was infinitely more than the cells of this dying body, had lived longer than documented history. She arched her back, trying to stand up as the truth of her existence filled the dying meat brain.
He held her hand as she collapsed back to the ground.
“Show me,” she growled, pulling his face close to hers.
Thick dark light poured from his eyes over her face. She drank the bitter darkness in her open mouth. The memories of the other mortal lives she’d suffered through came into crisp focus.
“Dearest Abaddon, which Gate am I passing through now?” she asked.
“The Gate of Emanating Reconstruction, Magnificent Ender of Light,” he said, tears of blood dripping from his eyes onto his white tuxedo.
The dog whimpered.
“It’s good to see you again also, Geh.” She shifted her weight, causing waves of pain to pulse through her back. “How’re things below?”
“The maintenance of the tortured is arduous, but the torment continues, as you would want, Most Fantastic Being. I miss you dearly.” He leaned forward on his knees to support her head. “Has your pain been all you wished?” he asked.
She closed her eyes. “Oh, yes,” she whispered. “Your healing my pain made the last killing particularly difficult.”
He kissed her hand. “We’re pleased to do anything for you, Deliverer of Exquisite Pain.”
She moaned. “I’m ready to return to work. It’s been enlightening to see the job from the other point of view. See you soon.” She slumped to the ground.
Abaddon sniffed the body to be sure there was no life left. The dog stood, walked around the body nine times, and howled.
Bottling Up De Evil
De glass bottles
blue, green, yellow
gathered by the faithful.
Mama Earth feeds the trees
roots sunk deep
sweet tender pale fingers.
Reaching into the sky
red cedar arms
slender tips covered in glass.
De bottle trees
trapping flying spirits
holding them tight.
Until the night wind comes
bringing the clinking moans
ending only with the morning.
It is the new light
bringing deliverance
to lost and hungry souls.
Night of the Living and Dead
They started early this year. The sun had barely set as she watched the flickering lights through the thick fog over the cemetery. Loud music and yelling thumped in the air. Her youngest one began to whimper.
“Don’t cry, baby,” she said, caressing his head.
“The lights are scary,” he whined. “Are they going to make those noises all night like last year?”
She stared through the thick fog at the lights again and shook her head. The sound of loud voices mixed with haunting music. “I don’t know, but you need your rest, honey. We have to try to ignore them.”
“Why do they do this every year?” her oldest asked.
“Something disturbs them at this time of the year,” she said. “Perhaps the end of summer and the beginning of winter wakes something strange in them. We just have to stay put and wait for the night to end. They won’t bother us.”
“But what will we do if they come out here?”
“They won’t,” she tried to sound calm, but she could see shadows moving in the oddly lit fog. She suppressed a shudder.
“Come, babies, time to rest. We’ll get through this night and then we’ll have a year of quiet before we have to worry about them again.” She turned her back to the pulsing sounds and gently pushed them ahead.
“In you go,” she said, kissing them as they lay down.
“You won’t let them get us?” the youngest whimpered.
“No, baby,” she said. “I’ll be near you as usual.” She covered them both and slowly lowered her aching bones into her grave, willed the dirt into place, and tried not to think about the sounds coming from the Halloween party in the house across the street from the cemetery.
Alien Bathroom
The Zirk’s top scientists
turned their kata twice to the left
jumped up and down three times
and said the sanu mantra.
The Vanuta’s top priestess
burned emsnu incense
sacrificed a many-noodled cangi
and slithered across the ancient floor.
All fifty thousand Kirsx hive members
danced the rhythmic dance of death
for ten cycles of their moon
and promptly fell asleep.
The remaining archaeologists
argued to blows over the object
until a minor Gorkling pulled the shiny stick
and the toilet flushed.
Excerpts from The Unabridged Traveler’s Guide as UFOs in Galaxy A.G.2
Chapter 3, Section 1.3.1a:
Maintain an acceptable holo image at all times when visiting the most interesting planet, native-named Earth, in the “Milky Way” galaxy. Neatness and a good fitting image will gain high marks on the believability scale if inadvertently seen by Earth’s sentient beings. Several varieties of images have been tested and rated in this galaxy. Certain highly stylized images have been found to invoke agitated states in members of the species. Reference: “Mars Attacks” vid 84.I.77, “Alien” vid series 39.N.5.2.
However, there is a wide range of acceptable non-Earth styles to choose from that allow individuality and personal style. Simplicity within the seeded archetypes has found to be most successful. For popular interpretations of these images reference: “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” vid 45.A.3.7, “X-Files” vid series 849.N.4.9.
An exception to the lists of fashionable images is the favorite earthling Elvis look. A minimal amount of language and behavior imprinting is necessary to become acceptable to the natives. The only restriction is for travelers sensitive to flash light, since this look invokes picture taking from the natives. This image will allow you to travel among the natives freely; however, it is important to keep in mind that this look should only be worn in the Las Vegas sector, to avoid the rippling effects that have resulted from its overuse. See references to multi-media archives, keyword: “Elvis Sightings”.
Chapter 7, Section 5.2.9g:
Abduction of human beings has been strictly forbidden since the unfortunate incidents with unconscious memory leaks. These leaks have not caused any high level problems and the long term effects have been entertaining; however, they introduce unacceptable risks for the travel program. Reference: all works of Chris Carter starting in the 20th Century vid series 209.Z.4.7.
Abduction of other life forms is allowed as long as the entire creature is taken. Although the problems produced by the Geuu taking only internal organs and leaving the external coverings (see section on Bovine Internal Studies) has not resulted in Earth being put on the non-visitor list, we do not want to create additional issues for the Interspatial Uniplacated Traveler’s Board (IUTB).
Chapter 14, Section 8.4.2v:
It is importa
nt to establish viable landing sites if planet fall is intended. Studies have found that locations of expected visitation are best since the local natives will have already woven tales to explain any signs of other worldly sightings. Reference maps of Roswell, Grovers Mill, Area 51. Other sectors have been deemed attractive because of their tolerance of aberrant images. Reference layouts of Hollywood, New York City, all locations of Disney World.
When visiting Earth it is important to clean up after yourself. The non-littering clause signed by all participants of the traveler’s contract will be strictly enforced. Dark matter, hot or cold, in particular must be kept out of this developing galaxy for obvious reasons. Manipulation of native material is strictly forbidden from the sub-molecular level to larger structures. Documented incidents of the breaking of these rules serve as clear examples of what not to do, no matter how visually pleasing. Reference: the Step Pyramid of King Joser in Egypt, which involved the masterful memory imprinting of several generations of natives. Note that the creation of crop circles by vacationers is discouraged unless you hold at least a Level III certificate in topical soil and plant design. Although amusing in its final result, these kinds of graffiti will no longer be tolerated by IUTB.
In conclusion, we expect all vacationers to review the entire Traveler’s Guide in any preferred form (visual, eatable, scent, spiked, etc) and commit it to memory. Enjoy!
Pullus Cogens
It stood on the edge
after calculating Rolm’s Levels of Acceleration,
while considering circular argumentation
of the Newtonian principles of inertia,
the displacement of the Aristotelian assumption
of natural place.
It mulled over the possibility of a glitch
in the inverse-square law,
the use of translational motion over
rotational motion meant only one thing,
it had to cross the road
to get to the other side.
One Night at Sheri-Too-Long’s Popcorn Bar
“This is a very special day,” he says, raising his glass with his six fingered third hand and tapping my glass.
Why does this always happen to me? I could go to the loneliest, faraway bar — a place on a planet outside the known universe and some unnamed genetic hybrid will find me. They always treat me like a long lost brother. They talk and talk and talk until I’m all sticky and wet with their words.
I discreetly blink a change control code into my three-dimensional self-projector implant to create a transformation in my outer displacement.
“I’m a lucky guy!” he says smiling, looking straight into my eyes.
So transparency doesn’t bother this guy. Great. I fade back into the bar’s temporal zone just in time for the bartender(‘s hair) to notice me. Her dark cloak of hair undulates around her body, covering her in a living full-length gown.
A mass of curls form ‘??’ above her head. I draw ‘==‘ on the counter and longingly watch her hair make another Ankle-high Buffalo Bill for me while the bartender carries on a conversation in sign language with a Venusian in a pressurized tank. I begin to imagine what else hair like that could do…
“Not only is this a special day, but meeting you here really makes it unforgettable,” he says.
The remnants of my daydreams scatter to the darker corners of the darkened bar. This guy has to pick now to get friendly. Just when I’m in the process of building up the energy to talk to the bartender; her hair’s been giving me erotic daydreams all evening. I was definitely not looking for a pal, I want the bartender(‘s hair).
“Do I know you?” I ask as rudely as I can. I look him up and down. Didn’t anyone tell him that polka dots were out of style on this side of the universe and those big, floppy red shoes — where did this guy come from?
“I know you’re here, you know I’m here. Double knowing. It doesn’t get better than this,” he says confidently, his orange curly hair bobbing up and down as he nods.
Now I know I’m in trouble. I have no idea what he’s talking about. So I just stare at him. Then suddenly his words have a startling affect on my subconscious, resulting in an unexpected physical change. I liquefy and pour into the rim around the bar chair.
Wet.
I knew that was coming.
“You’re my kind of person,” he says and pours into his chair’s rim. A drop splashes into me and suddenly we’re in direct pipeline mental contact.
All matters of fellowship and love floods my mind. Life is good. Rainbows always come out after the rain. A list of words with a heart replacing the letter ‘o’ begins to march through my mind.
I recompose and say, “Just a minute — you can’t just go around splashing yourself into strangers.”
“I thought like that once,” he says after recomposing. “But now that I’ve met you. Well, I can’t stay unaffected. You’re the best.” He reaches out to slap me on the back, but I activate my Portable Matter Contact Repellent and his hand swings through a temporary tunnel in my torso.
That’s my limit. Accidental mind drips are one thing (and I’m not so sure that drip was an accident), but body touching without so much as an eye-to-eye invitation — that’s an outrage! I slide my right hand into my jacket searching for my Guiltless De-molecularizer when a thin filament wraps around my wrist. I look down and it’s a strand of the bartender’s hair. She’s still talking to someone else, but her hair forms the words BE KIND in the air.
I can’t believe it — a dream come true. Her hair noticed me! Maybe I could retrieve some joy from this evening. If…
If I could get rid of this guy and spend some time with the bartender(‘s hair). I take an empty hand out of my jacket and three strands of hair caress my cheek before the bartender walks to the other end of the bar. This gives me the kind of chills I’ve been fantasizing about since I first saw her hair in action.
It’s time to jump to light speed. I have to make this guy go away and I have to do it in a civilized way since her hair made it clear it didn’t want me to disperse him into star matter.
So this guy’s sitting there real impressed with knowing me (I don’t know why) and wanting something (I don’t know what).
His eyes are bright and filled with expectation. I take all my three-dimensional energy, pipe it into a one-way line in his direction and say, “I can see that you want something — that you have a question to ask me.”
He nods, smiling with a rim of pink teeth around his lower head. He looks around mischievously to see if anyone is listening and leans toward me.
I blink and his face had transforms to pasty white with blue eyebrows and a large, red, round nose.
“TRICK OR TREAT!” he yells. The force of his words flings me across the room and I adhere to the wall like one of those six pointed Niobium wall hangings.
Sticky.
Finally.
It is kind of a relief.
He runs out of the bar, laughing loudly. And it takes two hours for the bartender(‘s hair) to coax me down from the wall. Not the worst two hours of my life, but I’d rather have that kind of stuff done to me in private instead of in front of the gamey crowd of the bar. But sometimes you have to take your treats (or tricks) where you can get them.
Land Sharks
Designed as tiny harmless pets
their escape from the genetic lab
was barely news worthy.
Cruising the concrete sidewalks
their miniature fins bobbing up
through cracks in the grey squares.
Hoping for a tired pigeon or dropped food
steering clear of leather soles
and running rubber cleats.
When death comes their tiny bodies
lose form and meaning
becoming part of a crumbling sidewalk.
You might see a round grey pebble
of an eye glint before it rolls over
to its rough concrete stomach.
Litt
le Red in the Hood
“Lay another one on me, Goosie” she said, flicking the ashes from her cigarette across the bar into the ashtray next to the cash register. The scratched mirror over the bar reflected a perfect little girl, with curly hair, wearing a red velvet dress. Most of the usual crowd was missing, no doubt resting up for the evening ahead. It was Saturday, one of the busiest nights of the week.
“You really oughta slow down “ The bartender pushed her wire frame glasses up on her nose and poured two fingers of vodka into Red’s glass.
“Easy to say when it ain’t you that’s gotta go skipping through the same dark woods day after day only to end up in a wolf’s belly,” Red replied.
“Hey, kid,” the wolf croaked from a small table in the corner, where he nursed a bottle of rum. “I’ve eaten better before I got stuck with this gig. At least you don’t have to go through a c-section every night.”
“Yeah, so am I supposed to feel better about getting dragged out of you?” She threw the cold, clear liquid to the back of her throat and shuddered. Smooth warmth filled her for a brief moment before the dusty, dank air of the bar cut back through her body.
“The Three Pigs tell me our hours might get cut back now that the Power Rangers are taking over,” the wolf said.
“Yeah, yeah, I heard that same talk when that purple people eater was the in thing, but nothing changed. I’m not holding my breath waiting for those pastel freaks to change things.”
“Things did slow down when Big Bird was topping the charts,” Old MacDonald said two seats to her right.
“Those were good days,” Red said softly, taking a drag on her cigarette. “We had time to hang out with Dorothy in the Green City, live a little. Now “
A screeching siren filled the air. A red light in the ceiling pulsed brightly. The siren stopped when two hulks dressed in green fatigues walked in. One jerked his finger at the girl and tossed her a bright red hooded cape. The other one gave the wolf the thumbs up. The wolf stood and limped towards the door.
“We’ve got a reading alert, bedtime stories starting on Grant Street. Let’s go, and no trouble this time, girlie,” the first one said.
“Come, my hairy one,” she said, draping the cape over her shoulders and letting the wolf lean on her as they walked out the door. “Time to live happily ever after.”
How To Recognize A Demon Has Become Your Friend (Necon Modern Horror Book 9) Page 5
