AHHH! Phew. Halfway through revisions. Will I get them done tonight? Yes! Or die trying. :D A long, ragged crack ran from the back of the room, up the wall, and across the ceiling. Water dripped incessantly from several points and Brent wondered when entropy would win out over concrete and steel. Not before he conquered the world, that was for sure. “Hey Gibby. How’s it hanging?” He liked to talk to his friend even though Gibby didn’t answer back much anymore. He still gibbered, though it was just noise, nothing comprehensible in it all. A twinge of remorse flickered inside him and died, ruthlessly squashed by the fungus. “Gibby, my man. You are helping me make history.” Brent had laid him in a dank corner, his friend’s greasy brown hair damp from the condensation on the walls. His bird-bone chest rose and fell with increasing irregularity. Brent wondered when his heart would give up all together and if the fungus would force it to keep beating or if it would let him die. He supposed, alive or not, Gibby was already a dead man. Thin fur coated his friend. At least, that was what it looked like. A soft, fuzzy blue, making him look hypothermic or something. In the curly bush at his crotch, pale white tentacles of fungus rose. Yeah, the whole naked bit was gross but Brent had stripped him on orders from the ‘shroom king in his noggin. “Baggie.” He pulled a couple Ziploc bags from his pocket and opened one, then bent close to gaze at the Gibster’s toes. Tiny, red-capped mushrooms sprouted from under Gibby’s nails, pushing them up and away from the skin, which was yellowed and rotted. He plucked several of these with delicate movements, placing them in the plastic with care. “Next generation of world-enders, coming up!” His voice echoed in the chamber and soon he heard the rustle of Mitch as he fought with the makeshift door. “You tear that down again, I’m taping you up and tossing you in the river.”
Posted on: Mon, 06 Oct 2014 01:02:36 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015