The world between the worlds, the place of grey between the pockets of reality, it is the fabric, the link, it is that which binds the existence of us all. In one of these little pockets, one of these realities, a mad soul sits upon a grey beach, staring at a surreal blue-grey river.
"I'm bored.", the words are not precisely spoken, but had anyone been near by, they would likely have been heard none the less. But alas, in this barren, lifeless place, a lone raven plucks idly at the river's edge, at the odd, thick ooze that slowly flows by.
"No.", the word vibrates and stretches across the river's surface, while the raven pecks at the pebbles along the bank, even as more words drift into the air around the large, sleek stygian. "I have dozen's of these" the tone becomes distractedly frustrated. The bird takes flight suddenly as if startled, a flurry of black feathers dislodge and float down as the creature makes it's way along the beach until it lands nearly as abruptly as it lifted off.
The wings of the raven stretch out and beat against the breeze and then the little winged beast begins to shift, dematerialize and then reform, until a fully formed, human male has taken claim of the space the raven once occupied. With a flick of his wrist, a hand lifts to dust off the shoulder of his black, wisped cloak before he stares out over the river from behind his half-moon mask.
"There must be something interesting here...", he murmurs with a distinctly bemused intonation. He strides slowly down the riverbank, his boots stepping along over soundless grey stones as the thick oozing river meanders by. He walks for some time, stopping a moment to poke at the river with a stick that just seems to materialize as he needs it, then he moves on, his expression listless and bored.
Finally, his feet stop and he looks out over the surface of the oozing river as something captures his attention. He tilts his head as he focuses intently at the distance, before he speaks again. "You. Come here.", the man in the half moon mask says aloud, and as he does, he lifts his hand and with a small deliberate draw of his index finger, he beckons the object of interest to him. In the distance, the surface of the river begins to churn and bubble and then the flow slowly begins to pull towards the beach and out of the current, moving to where the man's boots meet the river's edge.
"Now...this...is interesting", he says to himself with a rather assessing gaze and an ever present smirk upon his lips, "I think...I know where -you- came from", he nods as he plucks something from the river, a small, oozing, formless goo as he pulls the dripping stuff up before his eyes to observe it carefully. "yes...not too long ago", he idly mentions to the dripping translucent sludge, "I felt the destruction of your world, even from here...", he adds still nodding to himself as he speaks with a tilted head and a sly expression to the elongating slime that cloys at his fingers.
"Now I -know- we have nothing like you here my dear", he says suddenly letting out a rather giddy laugh, that lifts without echo or reply in the empty desolation around him. "oh my, what trouble could YOU cause I wonder?", he broods aloud to himself, allowing the mess upon his fingers to slide away to the pebbles below with a delighted expression.
"Excellent!! It's decided then!", he declares as he turns away, and the river begins to fade from existence. "Oh, and you...", he says from over his shoulder to the nearly forgotten puddle of ooze, "Come with me.", and with a snap of his fingers, the river, the goo and himself are gone and yet somehow the amused laughter manages to linger awhile.
No comments:
Post a Comment