[LNHY/ACRA] The Daily Super Short-Short Story #47
saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au
Wed Oct 27 01:26:51 PDT 2004
The Daily Super Short-Short Story #47
A Devil Came Down to Georgia 29
Last time: Martin was lured into a trap by Lisa
He knew it was counter-intuitive, but Martin found that being held
up by the throat focused his mind amazingly.
Delroy was dead, crushed to death from the looks of it - although
that was now suspect - and he had forgotten it in a moment of lust. Lust!?
He was supposed to be preparing to take vows, damn it! *How* could he have
possibly been in such leave of his senses as to be overtaken with lust,
of all things? Fortunately, supernatural intervention was a plausible
explanation. It wasn't the first time that he'd had his mind mucked with,
He grabbed her own hand and began to crush it, hoping to loosen her
grip about his windpipe before he lost consciousness. This did no good.
Then a moment of inspiration hit him, and he realised that if he had
control over his body shape, then he could create intake vents lower down
on the back of his neck and pretend to be at her mercy. Slowly tuning
blue might have been a nice touch as well, he thought as he began to feel
revitalising air passing into his lungs again, but he had no idea how to
carry that off subtly enough to make it credible.
With an apparently weakening grip he gasped, "What did... you do...
with Del?" As he did so, he allowed his attention to fuzz slightly, trying
to recapture the impressions he was getting of the evil within her.
"Killed him, of course," Lisa lied. "Broke him and then dumped some
bricks on him to make it look like a wall collapsed." She shrugged.
"Though why you're concerned about a human is beyond me."
"Mutants and humans..." he began to protest. Hmmm, there seemed to be
a... well, Martin was black and didn't really like terms like 'dark aura',
but there was a definite pall of evil about her.
"You're not a mutant, idiot," she said. "You're one of the Nightkind.
Specifically, you're one of the Teenaged Giant Half-Breed Angels. Remember?"
"Ah, you remember," she said. "Yes, the Nephalim. Still in denial, are
you? Look, you don't belong with the humans. The silly panics that they
have about mutants is nothing compared to what they'd feel about entire
races who are blood of their blood but are possessed of an alien soul.
You especially wouldn't fit in one of their human religious groups. You
wouldn't be happy, and when they discovered what you were, you wouldn't
live for long. You belong with your own people; with us."
He decided to fish for more information. "I'm not a..."
"Tsk. You are in denial. Don't listen to the words then. Listen to
your own dark soul." And then she reached out to him. Spiritually, that is.
Martin whimpered as he felt it. It was an attraction to her. It was
not, strictly speaking, sexual - although a young man in early post-
adolescence probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference and could be
forgiven for interpreting it in those terms. It was more like the blind
drive of migratory birds to fly halfway around the world, or of salmon to
travel thousands of kilometres to spawn (and then die), or of millions of
lemmings to rush over a cliff - and even those comparisons were too tied
up in physical biology to be anything more than generalisations for the
spiritual certainty that she sparked within him. This is what her pall of
evil actually meant, in explicit terms - and it was a part of him as well.
He wasn't human. He was a creature of the night. He felt a horrible,
wonderful urge to simply embrace this darkness within him. A dreadful
certainty gripped him: that if he hadn't already been told of his dual
nature by St. Christopher (and had been occasionally worrying about the
consequences ever since) he might have forsworn his humanity there and then.
Instead he lashed out at her, knocking her away. She seemed to
recover remarkably quickly.
"Did you really think that another Nephalim wouldn't know about the
trick of adjusting your body to bypass the pain from a point of attack?"
she asked as she struck at him with a punch that would have severely dented
a concrete wall. Martin dodged. "You're a fast learner, but I've been at
this for a long time."
Suddenly there was asian man standing there, looking casual. "Damian
did warn you that he had a strong will, Lisa" said Kien, hands in pockets.
"That he did," admitted Lisa, continuing to circle, looking for an
opening to attack Martin with.
Kien smiled, then lunged at Martin. Martin blocked and tried to
counterattack, but his strike passed straight through the man.
Lisa struck again, and again Martin blocked. This time his hand
passed through her as well. Then he was struck from behind by something
he couldn't see, and sent sprawling to the ground. He tried to think; what
could he be up against? Invisibility? Intangibility? Telekinesis? Holograms?
Desperate for something to offset their adavantage, he tried using that
'spirit sight' that he had been using to examine Lisa earlier.
Ah! There she was! The young man looked insubstantial - and somehow
Martin knew that he wasn't there. The woman was simply somewhere other
than she seemed. Martin jumped up and formed a massive club with his arm,
then took a wild swing that contrived to attack the illusion/hologram/thingy
of her while at the same hitting the real Lisa as part of the carry through
arc of the swing. She went flying.
The asian man looked rueful but not particularly concerned. Martin
was wondering how to deal with him when a generic ravening blast of
coruscating energy hit him and sent him sprawling to the ground again.
When he looked up, there was another of them.
"Martin Martin Martin," said the newcomer, a caucasian man who
Martin, with his attention still slightly fuzzed into spirit sight, had a
vague sense of recognition about. "You really are a stubborn young man,
Tomorrow: More fight scene.
The Daily Super Short-Short Story series and the wondersocks created by
Arthur Spitzer, and used with belated permission.
All main characters created by Saxon Brenton are Ask First Before Use
for the duration of this storyline, then they'll probably go to Usable
Saxon Brenton University of Technology, city library, Sydney Australia
saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au
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