She lies there almost lifeless and limp, the scent of her skin is that of many hours of blistering labor. Am I deserving of that which she gives me? Probably not, it is however not my nature to pass such a gift. Just hours ago she was screaming and begging in the most unholy wretched tongue. “Laebya Ahmar” she hissed, “Please My Lord”. I could see the strain has merely broken her. I squatted before her. Looking in the almost hollow cavities of her pupils, I whispered to her. “Isn’t it always I who brings za? Am I not your only flickering candle in this vast darkness?” licking the salty tears seasoned by torment from her cheek.
Seems so long ago since that night. Those words still resonate through the halls of my mind. What if they’d never passed my lips? Unspeakable and foul, that is what lead me right into to uttering them before the alter. As the final syllable escaped, I knew then I’d not only opened the door and walked through. I lost my way back to it. I was entranced with the embering red ooze.
Here she was begging for an easement. Am I merciful? Perhaps. Is it more likely, inside the clench from the deep yearns for it? I think so. When she first came to me, I had not a slight to the pleasure she’d bring me. She knew I was depraved. I’ve had others but none were like this. For a short time, she acted out to fill her needs, but resistance is not becoming of her and she knew it. She so softly purred “I don’t wish to defy you My Lord, I only wish to fall deeper into you”. Maybe it was the kiss, I instantly knew. We were truly bound. The deeper I followed into this forsakenness, she would always be at my feet.
The cold steel of my dagger teased her flesh. She groveled and pleaded in an almost entrant state. The moment drew near. Soon I would offer that which is most precious to me to the void. This should have been so obvious, but until a few days ago, I was oblivious to it. Cursed to live where pleasure and pain’s lines blur. The Ancient Ones had not blessed me. How can anything Unholy give blessing? My damnation was my blessing. The relic confirmed what I’d been suspicious of. I grew drunken, my aspiration’s soon realized. I must empty my vessel to complete the Oneness.
Rippling over my skin. Coursing though my veins. Anticipation, can I transcend? I began to etch; the warm sticky sweetness splattered my face. Her release had ripped a hole into all man has ever known. Breaking loose her bonds, I consecrated the offering by violating her to my darkest desire. “My Love is Eternal My Lord”, she faintly uttered before she slipped off. I couldn’t deny it. Her only desire was my every whim.
As my eyes opened, I saw nothing as I once remembered it. The haze that encircled my thoughts leaving them unclear, had started to disappear. Where was she? This is so very unlike her. “Envy?” as the syllables left my lips, I realized something was wrong. Her side of the bed was empty and unslept in. Her collar lie on the floor next to the bed.
The knocking at the door triggered a memory of ceremonial drums beating in a savage and entrancing rhythm. “Just a fucking minute alright?” I shouted at the door as I slid my jeans on. Curiosity of who would be visiting at this time of the morning was almost stronger than my irritation at Envy’s lack of presence. Again the sounding of beating upon the door. Turning the lock I gripped the hilt of my blade. Leaving the slide chain in place, I eased the door open.
As the light hit my eyes it took the form of residual Deja-vu. “Sorry to imped, but you need to come with us.” spoke the taller of the two men. I knew at just that moment, I did need to. “Let me get a shirt and some shoes on.” I insisted.
“No. There isn’t time, Sir.” said the shorter man as he reached around the door to guide my arm. As he pulled me across the threshold. This really struck a nerve. As I considered the merit of resisting, I realized; I had never undone the slide chain. Looking back to verify the chain was still intact. “How..?” I began to mutter.
“We’ll get to that soon, just hurry for now.” said the taller man.
Taking in my surroundings, I noticed an element of things just beyond the shadows scurrying. I felt as if a million eyes were fixated to me. Approaching the vessel ahead, I noticed a symbol adorning the sides.
“Isn’t that my…” I began to question my escorts.
“Yes My Lord… It is” stated the shorter of the two men. “You really don’t know what is going on, do you My Lord?” inquired the taller man.
“You told me, you’d be as an empty glass…. I guess I should’ve placed better understanding.” said the shorter man.
“Please sit here… I will fetch some nectar to help you gain your strengths.” requested the taller man.
As I nestled into the seat, it was fit for a king. Plush and supporting, as if it had been made just for my physical enjoyment. I had so many questions but the thought planted deep in my mind was to wait and see what was offered. Still I wondered, what is it I have forgotten? Why do these men seem as if they are protecting me? Where is my precious Envy?
“Let us first start by introduction” started the taller man, while handing me a goblet of the sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted. ” My birth name is of no consequence… You call me Pride” as he reached into his bag to draw out an artifact. “You forged this amulet in the fires just before the Great Void. It is graven with the symbols of Memnor.” he went into as he handed me a golden amulet with a thin black obelisk on it.
“I see.” I remarked as I examined the amulet.
“I am known to you as Greed” introduced the shorter man. “This amulet was forged in the depths beyond the Great Void by you, My Lord” he too handed me the amulet for inspection. I noticed the symbols of Abaddon as I overlooked the crimson stained amulet.
“Greed is truly the Great Destroyer, I understand now.” as I handed the artifact back to Greed.
“Now as you can see My Lord, we serve only you.” pledged Pride as he dropped to a knee with his head bowed.
At this very moment my head raced with an equation. Pride and Greed what do they serve? Who am I? What is it I am called?
Our course now set. We moved forward at full speed. In a short time, we had arrived at the place this all began. So familiar to me, the halls of this place taunted me with faint ghosts of its memories. So heavily dressed in icons of every faith living or dead. As we followed the winding corridors towards the heart of this indescribable place, I came to realize, this is the fruit of my labor.
“How long was I at slumber?” I questioned Pride.
“333 days, Lord” he replied.
“It was the only way you could be cloaked from The Puritans. Rebirth was necessary” offered Greed.
The Puritans? I had almost forgotten those twisted swine. I couldn’t believe I once sat high in their ranks, swelled with my own self-righteous hypocrisy. If it hadn’t been for Envy, I might still be washed in the stain of ‘Purity’. So many, had I tortured into leaving their faith for ‘Purity’. The Ancient Ones saw deep with in me and gave me Envy. I tried so hard to break her. With every submission she gave me, I was the one, who truly was breaking. As she whimpered and begged, I grew to love her more and more. Those words, That crimson ooze, and soft whimpering were more than my cold heart could resist. I knew as time went by I was of The Ancient Ones.
“My Lord, before you can go further you must robe with this ceremonial cloth.” Greed informed me.
“Do you have your blade?” inquired Pride.
“I do.” answering them both.
As the massive steel doors crept open, the chamber I was in, began to fill with a familiar sound. The savage drumbeat and dark eerie melody of chanting. I was almost afraid of what was beyond those doors. I could see the dancing glow of fire, casting through the crack of the door. What lies behind those doors? Who are they that chant? What wicked words so profusely and vigorously enchant?
“Ahmar Ath, Omnia Vanitas! Ahmar Ath, Omnia Vanitas!Ahmar Ath, Omnia Vanitas!” the cries of the practitioners grew louder by thrice and the fell quiet again.
My blood felt as if it was boiling. My senses were full alert. The answers were just beyond this door.
“Omnia Vanitas Suscitatio quod Orior oriri ortus,
Ahmar Ath Daera Khan,
As the hood of my cloak was pulled over my face by Pride, this was the chant that stirred in my mind. Echoing through every thought, my mind had ever conceived. I could now hear the door scrapping slowly open and as it did, the warmth from the room just beyond it soiled the garment I was clothed by. Those drums… it seemed every beat was in unison with an inner rhythm coded into the very fabric work of my existence. Inside it was as if I was of ceramic and someone was pouring a steaming hot liquid into me slowly.
Release… I need it. I could smell this tangled fragrance through out the air. It was so sweet. So very seductive. The movement of many bodies around me, had peeked me into an extra-sensory state. As the ritual continued, I suddenly felt a multitude of hands taunting my flesh. They scrapped past, touched bluntly, and in some cases even tapped lightly. The pores of my skin had pulled tight and hard from the sensation. In my mind I wrestled with understanding, how not an inch of my skin was unmolested and yet I was robed fully. They were passing right through it. The more I was touched the louder the drums had become feeling every precise percussion with every inch of my being. I soon felt the moistness of lips randomly mixed throughout the touch. A crippling hunger had spread uncontrollably and all I could smell was the sweetness I so craved. My entire being consumed with the want for this smell.
What was it? What was causing this sickening feeling? In my thoughts, I ponder how this must be the sensation that drives addicts. Never had I such intense desire, being driven nearly mad trying to figure out what would ease this. A sound singing through the air like the quick slice of a razor through the flesh and now the smell was so uncontrollable strong. Again the sounds of slicing, the smell was rapidly becoming unbearable. Weak, I felt so drained and malnourished.
Finally I was guided to kneel and the cloak was slowly rolled away from my face. Adjusting my eyes quickly met a Chalice of Ancient condition, adorned with familiar Sigils and Symbols. My flesh ached with want for the contents of that Chalice. There in front of me what I felt so sick for. The Red Ooze, the hue it gave was so inviting. I quickly snatched the Chalice and emptied its fill into the core of my being. As the gulps slid down my throat and the droplets of the Ooze mixed with my own chemical make up, I began to feel a change. It was as if an Awakening had begun. Suddenly feeling connected completely to all things in this room. In an instant, I knew before me was the entrance way to the Great Void. It was so clear, what steps, I needed to take next. Raising my blade above my head pointing downward, in a swift motion, I split open the stalk of my chest. Releasing a hissing steam, the Red Ooze now dripping from the open wound.
“Suscitatio quod Orior oriri ortus” I commanded “Omina Vanitas” I forced from my mouth with the fury of gods. Spreading the Ooze across the surface of my skin, my head became crystal. Lifting my palm to face the entrance, I commanded one last time “Rekindle and Rise!”
My eyes were instantly fixated, with the aurora that now filled the distance, between I and the Great Void. A symphony of lightning danced throughout the mist. Focusing ahead of me, I noticed a figure emerging from within the Great Void. As it drew near, I began to feel a separation between my soul and the body. My eyes still locked on the empty stare of the figure in front of me. Slowly I was able to begin making out features. They look so vaguely familiar, could it be I know this entity? So distant, I feel so disconnected now. What am I looking at? Why is it making me feel this way? How can this be it looks just like me? At that moment, everything rushed in and I felt all powerful.
So very strong. I felt like a ray of blinding light, peering though a forced crack in the pitch blackness. A moment had passed, and now I am standing where the entity had been moments before. Looking across to where I once stood, I saw the entity slowly buckling to the ground. I knew in an instance that this was the body I was just resident of. However this vessel, I now occupy seemed so much more familiar. Looking down I saw the relic, instinctively I gripped it. At the completion of my grip, a sharp pain quickly passed through my being. It was all so clear now. I was reborn to that vessel to suppress my location. In doing so I could only take the basics of my vast consciousness. This explaining my my loss of memory. The residual retention of all that I’d absorbed from the Great Void was preserved by storing my real body inside it.
Stepping out the mouth of the entrance of the Void, I lifted my hands to greet the mass of practitioners. Shouting and chanting “Omina Vanitas” to me, as I looked across the ritualistic entangled fornication covered in the embering glowing red ooze. The chamber room lit by the green flames dancing up the sides of the stone walls. The drums beating, as if each strike was pushing the red ooze in and out. The point of origin was the empty and detached Puritans, captured too late to be cleansed of the Stain of Purity. They exist among us, but do nothing, except spend there last days keeping this infernal rhythm going. It is believed, this is the only path they can take to reach the Nothingness of the Great Void. Directly in front of me was the Altar of Ancient Ones.
Envy… My Envy! This was the very Altar her sacrifice gave life to the Oneness. “Can anyone tell me, what of Envy?” I inquired.
Eggs of Viridia
On the shores of Vhoorl lies the Mountains of Viridia. It was here where Mynarthotep was
given instruction by the Great Priest Dread Cthulhu himself. Aeons were spent fashioning his
genetics and mind to mirror the Great Void. It was 1110 AD when a vagabond tribe found
him unconscious in the deserts of Arabia. As a gift to the tribe he began teaching the Black
Arts of Viridia to them, he taught them of the Great Old Ones and how he’d dedicated
himself to Cthulhu. By the second winter the nights skies were filled of sacred fires, a
rhythmic and luring chant saturated the winds.
“Ia, Ia Cthulhu Fhtagn!” with every repetition the fires grew higher into the night skies.
Mynarthotep had performed wondrous and abhorrent feats seeming to defy all laws of man
and earth. The tribe embraced Mynarthotep as it’s High Priest. It is said that Mynarthotep so
adept to observation, he was thought to be all knowing. Mynarthotep held all instruction in
his personal ritual chamber. The chamber held mysteries of strange geometries and defied
all principles modern science has woven it’s fabrics from. In the last decade of his life,
Mynarthotep was believed to be so old and tired that he could no longer muster the strength
to carry himself. Others believe that perhaps only a slight residue remained of the
ascending Magus. No matter the cause, during those final days he was carried upon Sedan
Chair to each point of visit.
The morning of Mynarthotep’s final instruction, a group of skeptical initiates chose to test
his legendary omnipresence. At the very back of the chamber lied a shrine. The shrine was
filled with memorabilia of such antiquity, the dust rested knuckle deep. Among the symbolic
relics of Mynarthotep’s trials and tribulations was a replica of mysterious Trapezohedron.
Convinced there could be no way Mynarthotep could possibly see this Trapezohedron, they
chose to lay in on its side. A pact was made among them not to so much as even think of
this object during the instruction. They then quickly took their places. As with every
morning that had come to pass, Mynarthotep was carried in and then his Sedan Chair was
placed to the floor. As he began to speak, his tired voice broke and rasped.
“This morning I will tell you of Zimri-Lim and his three eyes”
A moment passed as the rustling quickly fell to silence. Mynarthotep began describing a
young Initiate named Zimri-Lim. He went on to explain that Zimri-Lim was a brilliant mind
who could wield the Lesser Works with such precision and mastery as any Master could.
Zimri-Lim sadly had no success in the Higher Works and was baffled as to its causes.
” The Greatest Viridian Mysteries cannot be Worked in unless the Magus has mastery of his
Essence” denoted Mynarthotep.
He went on to explain that the frustrations of this had driven Zimri-Lim to seek a mentor
to model. Having heard of an all powerful Magus-Priest said to be an effective instructor in
the Higher Works. Zimri-Lim pledged Initiation of the Magus-Priest. After examination of
Zimri-Lim, he was sent on a quest for a mysterious cyclopean egg only found in the caves of
Canaan near The Great Sea. The Magus-Priest instructs Zimri-Lim to consume only the part
of the egg that would provide nourishment to his Essence. The Magus-Priest continues by
warning that consumption of any other portion is poison to his magical-self. Zimri-Lim
unsure of the distinction, inquires as to the method of determination. The Magus-Priest
further puzzles him with a vague answer of ‘Choose Wisely’.
Along the sea-green beaches of The Great Sea was a set of emerald cyclopean mountains.
Afoot of these mountains was a single cave with an iridescent hue taunting from within. At
the mouth of the cave a nest of 666 jeweled eggs. Eggs that averaged a head and a half in
height, but one was almost three heads tall. Surely these were the eggs he’d been sent for.
Spiraling into the madness of deliberation, Zimri-Lim spent weeks on the shores of Canaan.
“I shall not eat of the shell for it is a facade. Like the Masks of Men, it is designed to be
perceived precious and infallible. Nor will I consume the whites of the egg for it is a mere
map, designed to shape and mold the creature within. It teaches of limitations and
mortality. The answer is so obviously the yolk… but what if I am wrong?” murmured
Zimri-Lim ponder this for what seemed to be an age. Amidst in thought he recalled the
words surrounding the last instruction received.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear lies in the possibility that
we are powerful beyond comprehension. For this reason you must choose wisely” the words
of the Magus-Priest echo through the halls of his mind. The moment had come. All the
pondering had been exhausted. Zimri-Lim had finally chosen to be great. Choosing only one
egg, Zimri-Lim broke the shell. Scoop by scoop, Zimri-Lim emptied the whites from the
shell, finally exposing the gleaming teal yolk. A knee-jerk just before the first taste.
Reminding himself to be great. He savored every morsel with ever growing immense
delight. No honey so sweet as the nectar of emerald yolk.
The skies rapidly filled with neon-lime lined black clouds. A sense of cosmic epidemic fell
upon Zimri-Lim as the quake of the waves rose to a mirrored height of the mountainside. A
mass of oozing tentacled fish-headed hydra rose to the skyline. Grabbing up Zimri-Lim, the
tentacles slithered and flickered about his body, jolts of an apocalyptic vision was
transfered. A transformation was completed.
A muttering about the chambers indicates to Mynarthotep the interests of the Initiated
have reached a crystal peek. He announces he is tired and the instruction has come to an
end. The bearers of the Sedan Chair come to carry Mynarthotep to rest. The unsettledness
of the faculty abroad had emerged to prominence. Mynarthotep raised his left hand to signal
“Did you wish to know the ending of Zimri-Lim’s three eye’s?” he weakly inquired.
Affirmation was over zealously expressed.
Mynarthotep explains “At our conception we are as the yolk, pure and potent. As we are
conditioned, a thick layer of filtering begins to murk our crystal clear pools. We learn to
mimic what ever is expected of us and when this has hardened it is like an eggshell masking
the Yolks of Essence. We must suspend the whites and magically model our yolks to
greatness. Once we’ve mastered our model we can resume, not long after will we begin
rapid transformation. Consider the shell to be what people think you are, as it is the eye of
your physical center. A literal Mastery of Mimicry and Perversion of Personal Perception.
Consider the whites to be the thousands voices weighing and measuring, this is the eye of
your emotional center. This is what you think you really are, a mound of suffering and
self-doubt. Consider the yolk to be the purity of your essence, as it is the eye of your
mental center. It is a Testament to True Will and the Black Arts of Viridia”
Moments passed as the crippling stillness of Initiates ingesting the proverb spread before
Mynarthotep continued “As for our Zimri-Lim in accordance to his vision from Dgn, he
gathered up 13 of the 665 eggs left and the largest of them. He traveled back to the
Magus-Priest and his fellow initiates. Offering one to each and the largest to the Magus-Priest.
The eggs were ingested and an ascension began, the Children of Cthulhu
would never die! Beneath the Magus-Priest’s decorative shell, beneath the poisonous
whites, the yolk was a ,Trapezohedron, a limy-iridescent stone of odd angles with wisps of
purple mist laced with cold black haze. Much like the replica you chose to disturb this
Jet Skis and Great Apes (A Static Fiction)
Mark was the kind of guy who while being a literal leech to every person he interacted with, pranced around like his shit just didn’t stink. Nevermind that the stench of him permeated with such vile grotesqueness, not even the pope could stomach a whiff. When I first met this guy, he bragged about being independently wealthy, a real cocksmith, and the undiscovered heavyweight champion of the world. He only had one hardship, despite his mental superiority and physical prowess; he was unable to find good weed at a good price. So this is why he came to me, I happened to be one that found things.
He decided to court me and my boy Jason. It seemed like an effort to try to get the real price and a solid in. For a few weeks we rode his jet ski’s, cooked out at his condo on a private beach, and smoked the dope he’d paid for. I was waiting for Jason one day, to pick me up so we could go pick up our order. My pager went off, and go figure it was Jason letting me know; he was running a bit behind. I put in a phone call to Scott (The Great Ape), just to make sure he didn’t getting cranky. I always dug The Great Ape, Scott was the guy who told me; “There are really only two kinds of drug dealers, those that don’t use forklifts; and those that do.” What a great philosophy. Needless to say he was a busy man and would get cranky if you fucked up his mojo. He said if Jason, didn’t show within two hours; I should head there regardless. I paged Jason 20 minutes, before I had to leave for Scott’s house. He finally called back and said “Sorry man, I’ve been at Mark’s house; have you met up with Great Ape yet?”.
I explained to him, I was just getting ready to leave in 5 minutes. He asked me to swing by Mark’s house after, and do him a solid. Fucking with him, I asked him what was in it for me; his reply stumped me. He said “I’m sure Mark’s wife will suck your cock; its for her, hell she’s been sucking mine all day.” When it hit me I was half way to Scott’s house, like a light bulb flipped on; he wasn’t fucking around. Shit was about to get interesting, I just knew it. Jason was prone to getting us into trouble, one of my favorite things about him. When I got to Scott’s, he comes out to my car and climbs in, and announces I’m taking him to Taco Bell. First though, we were gonna smoke the fuck out. Scott had trouble rolling a joint, the only way he could do it was to attach four papers together; so he was used to smoking about an 8th in each sit in. That is why we called him “The Great Ape”; dude was monstrous in size; and smoked more dope than the entire staff at Hanna-Barbera combined.
So Scott tells me he talked to Jason this morning, and chuckled that Jason has been pounding Mark’s wife for the last week or so. He continues on to tell me, that according to Jason; Mark is not the one who is wealthy, rather it is his wife who has the money. Apparently she asked Jason, if Mark had been cheating on her; and he told her he had in fact been doing so, and bragging about it after. Which I knew to be fact, Mark was always bragging about rubbing his cock into his wife’s mouth; right after having ‘nailed’ some girl 2 doors down. The Great Ape and I settled up, had some tacos; shortly after that I got a 911-911 page from Jason. I dropped Scott off and headed over to Mark’s house. When I got there, she had convinced Jason to pack up Mark’s stuff into a U-Haul, and they wanted me to help break all the shit she had bought him. We started with his jet skis tossing them against the sea-wall over and over again.
When the fun was over, we went inside so I could settle up; and we could get the fuck out of there. I told her what she ordered, I usually charged Mark 1200 for, but in light of her letting us break some shit, I would take 200 off of it. She handed me 1500, and said it was Mark’s allowance for the month; and she didn’t want the smoke. Just then Mark came home, and had apparently noticed the U-Haul with jet ski bits surrounding it. I sat back in the chair chuckling as I watched things get all ‘Melrose Place’. Suddenly Mark was standing over the top of me, screaming in my face. I kindly reminded him, none of this was really my problem. I wasn’t the one fucking around on my wife, I wasn’t the one fucking his wife; and the shit I broke belonged to her and she’d asked me to break it. He stopped for just a second and started going after Jason, so I stood up between them. Now he was back in my face.
“You think you’re all big and bad don’t you”
“You aren’t as bad as me motherfucker!”
“You better sit the fuck down TC (with some emphasis on it), or I’m gonna crack your fucking skull.”
I just laughed in his face. I told him he didn’t have the sack to hit me, but if he wanted to start something; he would be measured. He backed down, and Jason and I left. Jason kissed his wife on the way out. This left Mark and his wife firmly at each others throats as we exited the building. When we got back to Jason’s house, he started telling me how things had gone down in the week prior. Right then my pager went off, it was Mark. I called him back, evidentially it wasn’t enough to motivate him to punch me over Jason fucking his wife; but now he knew I had his money and he had no weed. He claimed he was coming for me now.
I never saw Mark again. Now he was just another bit of fiction like the rest.
Death Before Dishonor (A Static Fiction)
The smell of the gasoline was kind of making me nauseous. This wasn’t normal for me, I think maybe my nerves had pumped too much adrenaline into my system. Up till now, I’d never done anything this serious. Pocketing shit, fights, some public defacements, a few fires, smoking dope, and skipping school; it isn’t like I’d really thought any of that shit out. Things sometimes just happen. Most everything I had done was on a whim. This though, this was different; so many things were contingent upon this one act. It wasn’t so much about the cash I stood to earn; I was a messenger entrusted to be heard loud and clear.
Looking over at Daniel, I decided to go back over the plan with him. Shit had to run like clock work, and there was no fucking way, I was going to jail. We’d been boys for a few years now, and this wasn’t some corner-store bait and snatch; so I checked myself. I started thinking about D’s integrity. If this thing was gonna back fire, it was not going to be on me; I’m a big picture man, a natural strategist, and worst of all I am methodical. I knew D was wreckless enough to do the deed, I never questioned his competence in that aspect. What I wondered about was where his loyalties lied. What if shit did take a turn for the worst, would it be every man for himself? I could see that being a very logically derived conclusion; self-preservation prevailing.
I remember just as we were walking up to the car, Daniel stopped for a second and said “T… We are brothers right?”. It seems, I wasn’t the only one taking stock. I looked him square in the eyes and said ” I gotcha man, besides I make this look easy…”. I busted the window out, and he immediately started dousing the interior. As we started walking away you could already smell that ‘burnt wire’ scent. I started thinking to myself, this would’ve been so much better; had there been an explosion. That really didn’t matter though, regardless this sack of shit’s ride was gonna be blacker than; the line out the door on ‘All you can eat Tuesday’ at Sonny’s BBQ.
The best part here was that this douche bag had it coming to him, at least from what I had been told. I always fancied the term “honor among thieves”, this was a prime example of why. It is better to take your licks and feign ignorance to anyone else being involved. There is always someone willing to fuck up your day for a tennis ball canister full of Indigo and a few hundred bucks cash. In fact some might do it for less. I understood that your ‘name’ or ‘word’ was all you had in this life. Nobody likes a spineless coward, and actions have consequences.
Turns out Daniel kept his mouth shut, the crackling of dancing sparks above the tree line; was the last I ever heard of that night. In time, I would find out that even your closest allies; may at some point forsake any pact you’ve made. They may choose to act without that ‘honor’, they may even get themselves put in prison for 30 years to avoid paying the piper; their day will come regardless.
You gotta love fiction…