Lucy-S's New Writeups

April 28, 2013 (fiction)

2013-04-28T14:03:54Z

Â Â Â I jogged through the broken doors and entered the basement floor of the Riffe Tower. Moss was spreading across the marble stairs leading to the foyer.Â To my right was the locked gate to a little cafeteria; I'd eaten there after I'd been to an art exhibit on the main floor. It wasn't exactly gourmet dining, but I knew the place would have what I needed.

Â Â Â Â It took me a couple of minutes of searching for words for "rust" to rot the steel Masterlock enough that I could bash it open with the butt of the shotgun. I heaved the gate out of the way. The kitchen was locked, too, but I was getting better at finding good words for corrosion. The doorknob's comparatively flimsy lock gave after a minute of chanting.

Â Â Â Â The kitchen was lit in the red glow from the Exit signs. I set my shotgun down by the door. A white steel medical kit was bolted to the back wall between the grill and one of the prep tables; I opened it and found a roll of gauze and an Ace bandage…

April 27, 2013 (fiction)

2013-04-27T13:02:11Z

Â Â Â I lifted the shotgun to my shoulder and trotted toward Smoky, who was still sniffing the pieces of shattered door glass. Smoke rose from his nostrils with each exhalation.

Â Â Â Â I am so about to get myself barbecued, I thought. I wish Cooper was here; he'd know exactly what to do.

Â Â Â Â Tears welled up in my eyes. Where was he? Was he okay? If he'd been sucked into that black pit of nightmares I'd seen ... damn it, I should have insisted we wait another day to summon the rain. We never should have gone out that night.

Â Â Â Â I could have been curled up on the couch with Cooper, watching an old movie with little terrier-sized Smoky on his lap and my ferret on my lap, eating popcorn and laughing and smiling and kissing instead of being wet and scared and alone and not knowing what the hell I was doing in this stinking parking garage.

Â Â Â Â I was about a dozen yards from Smoky. Close enough for a clean, strong hit with the…

April 26, 2013 (fiction)

2013-04-26T23:04:07Z

Â Â Â I popped the Lincoln's trunk and got into our duffel bag of supplies; I found a packet of Advil and a warm bottle of Gatorade. Hoping the combination would kill my headache, I popped the two pills and chugged the drink. I found a PowerBar gel packet and stuck it in my thigh pocket for later, just in case.

Â Â Â Â Next, I opened up the long black gun case. Inside was a 12-gauge, pump-action 9-shot Mossberg 590 "Intimidator" with a black plastic stock. It was fully loaded with cartridges that contained 18 pellets of mixed silver and iron buckshot: a little something for any sort of hostile creature Cooper and I might encounter out in the woods or in the bad parts of the city. We'd started toting firearms after a close call with a pack of drunk werewolves in Logan County. I hoped the shot would be enough to penetrate Smoky's thick scales, if it came to that.

Â Â Â Â A sheathed silver dagger and a bandolier of 20 extra cartridges lay in foam cutouts…

April 25, 2013 (fiction)

2013-04-25T22:35:30Z

Â Â Â I dropped my phone back in my pocket and hurried toward the Lincoln. "Hang on tight," I called, hoping the ferret would hear and understand. "I'm gonna turn the car over."

Â Â Â Â I spoke the word of a long-dead tribe that described the act of putting a turtle or beetle back on its feet. I made a sweeping movement with both hands. The headache throbbed anew, but I ignored it.Â I wasn't going to keel over just yet.

Â Â Â Â The Lincoln creaked over and whammed back down on its wheels. A moment later the ferret poked his head up in the open window.

Â Â Â Â I ran to the car and started to unbuckle the ferret's harness, wishing I could remember more about what I was supposed to do with a newly-awakened familiar. According to Cooper, familiars could be tremendously knowledgeable, veritable furry little walking magic encyclopedias, provided you were lucky enough to get an experienced one. If the ferret was as green as I was, though, it would be "…

April 23, 2013 (fiction)

2013-04-23T21:35:04Z

Â Â Â I'd heard Cooper and the Warlock talking about travel between dimensions; portals were hugely dangerous. The longer they stayed open, the worse things got. And creating one was supposed to be a complicated ordeal involving extended rituals and the blood of red-haired virgins and stuff like that. I never imagined that anyone could open one by accident.

Â Â Â Â Smoky started having some kind of seizure. The howls and growls coming from him were sounding less and less doglike. I couldn't think of any Earthly creature that made a shriek like metal sheets being rent in half, a rumble like wet bones being crushed beneath a dire war machine. I ran toward the crater, giving the little dog a wide berth.

Â Â Â Â I came within a few yards of the crater's edge and stopped. I'd expected to see the bottom crawling with lava or hellfire, but saw only a void of utter blackness. My head swam with vertigo, bile rose in my throat, and every cell in my body…

April 22, 2013 (fiction)

2013-04-22T12:22:34Z

Â Â Â I knew better than to argue or waste time asking questions. I sprinted back for the car, fear churning in my stomach. Nothing like this had happened before. Cooper had said that the ritual couldn't be interrupted, no matter what.

Â Â Â Â I got to the Lincoln, ran around to the driver's side and and dove into the seat. Smoky was whining on the front seat, his paws pressed against the window. Before I could get the door closed, he'd jumped over me and was running towards his master.

Â Â Â Â Cooper started to scream. His voice sounded like a band saw blade grinding against a rusty iron post.

Â Â Â Â Should you run away like this? I cranked the key in the ignition and slammed the car into drive. Don't think. Just do it. Cooper knows this stuff way better than you do.

Â Â Â Â The storm was gathering with alarming speed. Thunder rumbled. In the rearview mirror, I saw the wind whipping a dust devil around Cooper's rigid form. The…