← Older revision
Revision as of 05:53, November 4, 2016
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soon as the Greebik left town.
soon as the Greebik left town.
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“Dried sea life hanging from the ceiling?” asked Asp, chuckling.
[[File:Hag1.jpg|thumb|310px]]
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“Dried sea life hanging from the ceiling?” asked Asp, chuckling.
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[[File:Hag1.jpg|thumb|310px]]
Tullugaq gave a loud snort. “That would have been a slight improvement. This place was a mess. It looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for hundreds of years, and it was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside—and to top it all off, the rooms moved around. At least, that was what I was told by the owner. I believed him, the place was a safety hazard. One of these days, someone’s going to have an accident there. Wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a few skeletons lying about somewhere.”
Tullugaq gave a loud snort. “That would have been a slight improvement. This place was a mess. It looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for hundreds of years, and it was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside—and to top it all off, the rooms moved around. At least, that was what I was told by the owner. I believed him, the place was a safety hazard. One of these days, someone’s going to have an accident there. Wouldn’t surprise me if there’s a few skeletons lying about somewhere.”
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Asp looked at her in exasperation. “This bloody book isn’t unbinding!”
Asp looked at her in exasperation. “This bloody book isn’t unbinding!”
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Maureen smirked. “Maybe it’s sealed for a very good
reason…like
keeping your prying eyes from being plucked out by a highly annoyed fiend of darkness.”
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Maureen smirked. “Maybe it’s sealed for a very good
reason… like
keeping your prying eyes from being plucked out by a highly annoyed fiend of darkness.”
“Oh, very funny,” said Asp, sourly. “It’s easy enough to be nervous if a book’s got a skull and crossbones marked in bright red ink across the cover. One mustn’t judge a book by its macabre cover, you know.” He stared curiously at the glass cylinder. “What’s that?”
“Oh, very funny,” said Asp, sourly. “It’s easy enough to be nervous if a book’s got a skull and crossbones marked in bright red ink across the cover. One mustn’t judge a book by its macabre cover, you know.” He stared curiously at the glass cylinder. “What’s that?”
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“It’s a mirror, or course,” said Maureen, handing the thing over.
“It’s a mirror, or course,” said Maureen, handing the thing over.
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“Reminded me of a lamp-chimney,” said Asp, peering at it closely. He wiped away some of the grime. “Ainsel-ware, I suppose. It’s luminescent, and it feels light, very
light…must
be one of those touristy gewgaws.”
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“Reminded me of a lamp-chimney,” said Asp, peering at it closely. He wiped away some of the grime. “Ainsel-ware, I suppose. It’s luminescent, and it feels light, very
light… must
be one of those touristy gewgaws.”
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Tullugaq shrugged. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to be. The bookstore guy said he got it at an estate sale, along with that book. He told me the previous owner died
mysteriously…Have
you ever heard of an artist named Jules Gurkle?”
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Tullugaq shrugged. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to be. The bookstore guy said he got it at an estate sale, along with that book. He told me the previous owner died
mysteriously… Have
you ever heard of an artist named Jules Gurkle?”
“Who hasn’t heard of Jules Gurkle?” exclaimed Asp, putting the mirror and book back in the box. “I must’ve seen every horror masterpiece that guy ever painted. They give the creeps. I heard in one gallery they had to turn his paintings around at night when one of the watchmen nearly went mad with terror.”
“Who hasn’t heard of Jules Gurkle?” exclaimed Asp, putting the mirror and book back in the box. “I must’ve seen every horror masterpiece that guy ever painted. They give the creeps. I heard in one gallery they had to turn his paintings around at night when one of the watchmen nearly went mad with terror.”
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“But what about you getting that strange feeling you’ve seen that book before,” Mr. Dalton hastily pointed out, “and what about that macabre symbol on the cover?”
“But what about you getting that strange feeling you’ve seen that book before,” Mr. Dalton hastily pointed out, “and what about that macabre symbol on the cover?”
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“Oh,
well…I
made a mistake,” said Maureen dismissively. “I’m quite sure now this is just a decorative notebook. When I touched it, I felt no dark power surging through it, just blank pages waiting to be filled.”
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“Oh,
well… I
made a mistake,” said Maureen dismissively. “I’m quite sure now this is just a decorative notebook. When I touched it, I felt no dark power surging through it, just blank pages waiting to be filled.”
“But this book here really did belong to the former Jules Gurkle!” insisted Asp loudly. “It’s got to be magical—!”
“But this book here really did belong to the former Jules Gurkle!” insisted Asp loudly. “It’s got to be magical—!”
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“Beats me,” said Niamh with a shrug, “but I’ll ask.”
“Beats me,” said Niamh with a shrug, “but I’ll ask.”
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She then tapped the shoulder of a grizzled old wehr wolf crouching by their seat. “Excuse me, sir, but can you tell us why everyone crowding up front?”
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She then tapped the shoulder of a grizzled old wehr wolf crouching by their seat. “Excuse me, sir, but can you tell us why everyone
is
crowding up front?”
The wehr wolf regarded her with pale eyes. “Cooties,” he growled.
The wehr wolf regarded her with pale eyes. “Cooties,” he growled.
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She glowered at him, her lavender mane bristling. “What?” she snarled.
She glowered at him, her lavender mane bristling. “What?” she snarled.
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“I…seem
to…have…misplaced
the spell to stop it.”
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“I…
seem to… have… misplaced
the spell to stop it.”
Maureen stamped her feet hard and whirled around. Frantically, she started gesturing, all the while shouting incantations.
Maureen stamped her feet hard and whirled around. Frantically, she started gesturing, all the while shouting incantations.
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“Oh, what kind of book?” the creature asked, easily keeping up with her long strides.
“Oh, what kind of book?” the creature asked, easily keeping up with her long strides.
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“A poetry book,” Niamh replied, walking a bit faster. “It’s by my favorite poet, Gorph
Dorkings…he
wrote about clocks…”
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“A poetry book,” Niamh replied, walking a bit faster. “It’s by my favorite poet, Gorph
Dorkings… he
wrote about clocks…”
“Poems about clocks?” said the creature curiously.
“Poems about clocks?” said the creature curiously.
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“Uh… Hello, Grandma?” said a timorous voice at the other end.
“Uh… Hello, Grandma?” said a timorous voice at the other end.
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Grandma
Esme’’s
eyes bulged and she sputtered. “Oh, it’s you, Kiki!” she exclaimed, embarrassed. “Sorry about my language, but I thought you were one of those blasted salespeople who’d been calling me all morning.”
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Grandma
Esme’s
eyes bulged and she sputtered. “Oh, it’s you, Kiki!” she exclaimed, embarrassed. “Sorry about my language, but I thought you were one of those blasted salespeople who’d been calling me all morning.”
Kiki fidgeted nervously. “Grandma,” she said glumly, “we’re at Perthamboyne. I’m calling from a payphone near the corner of Lugar and Kootz Street.”
Kiki fidgeted nervously. “Grandma,” she said glumly, “we’re at Perthamboyne. I’m calling from a payphone near the corner of Lugar and Kootz Street.”
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“I didn’t expect you girls to call so early,” said Grandma Esme’ worriedly. “What happened? Did the bus break down?”
“I didn’t expect you girls to call so early,” said Grandma Esme’ worriedly. “What happened? Did the bus break down?”
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“No, it didn’t break
down…”answered
Kiki hesitantly. She glanced back at the confusion still going on; the milling crowd of sightseers, the police trying to shoo them away or redirect traffic, the exterminators cheerfully singing, Gnashgarak shaking and sobbing. Several sympathetic pedestrians were now comforting him.
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“No, it didn’t break
down…” answered
Kiki hesitantly. She glanced back at the confusion still going on; the milling crowd of sightseers, the police trying to shoo them away or redirect traffic, the exterminators cheerfully singing, Gnashgarak shaking and sobbing. Several sympathetic pedestrians were now comforting him.
“What’s the howling noise I keep hearing?” Grandma Esme’ asked curiously. “Are there people injured?”
“What’s the howling noise I keep hearing?” Grandma Esme’ asked curiously. “Are there people injured?”
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“It’s all right,” said Wilkie reassuringly, placing his hat back on. “It wasn’t your fault, Miss…?”
“It’s all right,” said Wilkie reassuringly, placing his hat back on. “It wasn’t your fault, Miss…?”
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“Niamh,” she beamed, promptly shaking his hand. “Niamh the Golden, I’m really pleased
…Beat
it, you Glazarotsnatz!”
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“Niamh,” she beamed, promptly shaking his hand. “Niamh the Golden, I’m really pleased
… Beat
it, you Glazarotsnatz!”
A look of venomous hatred spread across her face as she savagely swatted the air. Wilkie leaped nimbly back just in time. Seeing his startled gaze, Niamh apologized profusely.
A look of venomous hatred spread across her face as she savagely swatted the air. Wilkie leaped nimbly back just in time. Seeing his startled gaze, Niamh apologized profusely.
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Niamh sniffed speculatively. “All I smell is the smoke from the fumigating,” she said.
Niamh sniffed speculatively. “All I smell is the smoke from the fumigating,” she said.
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“You mean you don’t smell it?” said Wilkie, dismayed. “It’s getting stronger now!” Suddenly he wrinkled up his nose in disgust. “Phew!” he cried. “What an abominable stench! Is someone curing beef around here? If it’s one thing I can’t stand,
its
smoked jerky.”
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“You mean you don’t smell it?” said Wilkie, dismayed. “It’s getting stronger now!” Suddenly he wrinkled up his nose in disgust. “Phew!” he cried. “What an abominable stench! Is someone curing beef around here? If it’s one thing I can’t stand,
it's
smoked jerky.”
“Nope, sorry,” replied Niamh, giving the ghoul a funny look. “Well, I won’t waste anymore of your time. I have a satchel to return—” She broke off to glare at the horsefly as it droned into view. In spite of her swatting and yells of protest, it zoomed past her nose and spun around her head.
“Nope, sorry,” replied Niamh, giving the ghoul a funny look. “Well, I won’t waste anymore of your time. I have a satchel to return—” She broke off to glare at the horsefly as it droned into view. In spite of her swatting and yells of protest, it zoomed past her nose and spun around her head.
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Wilkie gulped and his hands trembled. Standing before him was something that could squash him as easily as one would squash a fly. He had to disguise his thoughts, and fast. If this something latched onto his mind, he was history.
Wilkie gulped and his hands trembled. Standing before him was something that could squash him as easily as one would squash a fly. He had to disguise his thoughts, and fast. If this something latched onto his mind, he was history.
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“It’s your
dress…and
your hair,” he stammered, icy with terror.
They’re…they’re
so…gorgeously
bright…and
beautiful. It makes my eyes ache just looking at you.”
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“It’s your
dress… and
your hair,” he stammered, icy with terror.
They’re… they’re so… gorgeously
bright…
and
beautiful. It makes my eyes ache just looking at you.”
The Thing that was Niamh smiled. Her withered lips curled up, revealing yellowish teeth. Wilkie was suddenly reminded of a dead ferret he once found. Then the smoked flesh smell abruptly died away, and Niamh’s familiar face shifted back into place.
The Thing that was Niamh smiled. Her withered lips curled up, revealing yellowish teeth. Wilkie was suddenly reminded of a dead ferret he once found. Then the smoked flesh smell abruptly died away, and Niamh’s familiar face shifted back into place.
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Arthur put his hands to his head and closed his eyes. A wave of dizziness swept over him and he fell to his knees.
Arthur put his hands to his head and closed his eyes. A wave of dizziness swept over him and he fell to his knees.
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“I… I don’t know if her breath’s poisonous or what,” he muttered faintly,
"but
I suddenly feel queasy.”
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“I… I don’t know if her breath’s poisonous or what,” he muttered faintly,
”but
I suddenly feel queasy.”
Alarmed, Asp stooped down and helped Arthur to his feet. He glanced at Wilkie. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll talk about this at The Gourmet Insectivore.”
Alarmed, Asp stooped down and helped Arthur to his feet. He glanced at Wilkie. “Come on,” he said. “We’ll talk about this at The Gourmet Insectivore.”
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{{By-user|Mmpratt99 deviantart}}