mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

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evil is afoot (well, its more of a claw, really).

so here, we draw it from the ocean. we pull it out, scraping its carapace across the sharp rocks of the cliff where we are squatting. our hands move like pistons, drawing the silk rope & its steel hook up, along with our quarry. the rhythm is intoxicating, but the lactic acid built up by the time the thing comes to the outcropping makes us sluggish.

we both draw, but we are too slow. the thing moves faster than the book said- but that is one of the unfortunate side-effects of using rakeesh's tomes as your primary source materials for research. pay-while-you-browse is a shady policy for any library, even an occult one. so our hands are sitting there full of guns, when the exoskeleton cracks open & the hooked tentacles slither out.

or to put it another way: HOLY SHIT THAT THINGS FROM OUTERSPACE!

by now our guns are roaring in our hands; hell, i'm dropping my hand so fast to compensate for the recoil that i look like some hungry hindu god. so while our irons are mantra-ing with a "bang-bang-bang," this thing just sort of ripples up the bank towards us, & the next thing you know, sally hecate is more like sally pate, a spread of meat on the stone. at this point, i'm getting a little distressed that the teflon coated copkillers havn't shreded this thing by now.

the next couple of rounds in my gun are home-made. i call 'em pharsee rounds, but whatley (he's the hairy one laying hexes down with his free hand) calls 'em something with alot of gutteral noises & the other guys call 'em arson rounds. either way the next three bullets start toasting the thing with white phosphorus. that seems to get its attention; it turns around like its got some crazy internal gyroscope (& i'm thinking "uh, is this the thing or its fucking spaceship?") & starts that creepy wavey movement over towards me.

this is where things get screwy, 'cause i drop my skin.
turns out, i'm an alien after all, & your whole planet is fucked.
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