Saturday, December 22, 2012


The others laughed as Paul spun three times, murmuring the words beneath his breath.

"Hello," the Grizzlenarf said.

Paul blinked. "You came."

"Yes." The Grizzlenarf's downy fur rippled. "I get lonely, you know."

"Guys, are you seeing this?"

The Grizzlenarf extended a paw. "Would you? I'd love to stay."

Paul grasped it, then jerked back, hissing.

Sanguine claws glinted. "Blood the bond sealing the soul. Right, Paul?"

Paul's mouth moved of its own accord. "Yes, master."

"Hey," someone called, "who are you talking to?"

"Let's begin," the Grizzlenarf said. "The knives are in the kitchen. I get hungry, you know."

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Michael Morse said...

I've been contemplating similar scenarios this week, trying to make sense of madness.

Anonymous said...

Every summoning since practically ever, has gone horribly wrong, am I right?

It says something about human hubris that it comes as a horrifying shock every single time. Well done!

Phil W said...

Good point, James. Thanks, Loren. This is a solid story, and I enjoyed your reading of it.

Loren Eaton said...

@ Michael: Oooh, interesting. I hadn't thought about that connection.

@ James: Interesting story: W.B. Yeats used to involve himself in seances to prime the inspirational pump. Once he asked one of the "spirits" why they were appearing to him. The answer? "To help you write poetry." I see a massive horror story waiting in that exchange.

@ Phil: Glad you liked it. I really enjoy creating that little podcast.