Orie had readied himself for a fall. A great big tumble from the plush car seat to the cold hard ground, no thanks to some over-zealous traffic enforcer.
Instead of the smoothness of gas station concrete, however, Orie found himself sprawled over a rough and rocky asphalt road, with a little scrape on his forehead to show for it. The Red Racer was gone. With it went the lights and sirens of the State Patrol cruiser, and Dakota’s sedan from which he’d just come rolling out, and Dakota herself for that matter. And, he noted, his wheelchair. Yet somehow the tablet he’d been holding was still with him, albeit with a new scratch on its screen, as was the notebook in his pocket. All other traces of the reality of one minute ago seem to have been wiped away, painted over by this foreign scenery.
The welcome sign caught his eye first. ‘Anigma Fluxx’, it read.
Neither of those sounded like English words, or any sort of word at all. Well, many place names were like that. Perhaps it was a portmanteau, ‘anima’ plus ‘enigma’. Taking ‘Fluxx’ to be a variant of ‘flux’, that would mean — ‘Mystery of the Ever-changing Soul’? Pfft. Orie wouldn’t have thought twice about a children’s detective story having that for a title. All right, maybe I’m reading too much into it. Having a little laugh distracted him from the eerie wrongness of his surroundings: the sign, the sky, the silence.
At least Orie wasn’t alone in this strange place. There were two older men as well, both looking as disoriented as he. In fact, he even recognised one of them: the father of Ha-eun, who had also gone missing two years ago — Seong Jin-soo. ‘Also’, because Orie thought he knew what was going on.
Eight moons in the night sky — eight people whisked away — clock on the dashboard had read 11:41 PM — half the missing eight had last been seen shortly before midnight — at least two people present with links to the eight — well, weren’t the implications obvious? And all this happening on the night that Mara comes back? That would be some spectacular coincidence. Now, Orie was no conspiracy theorist, but he was quite confident in his quickly-formed conclusion: the three of them, too, were now ‘missing’.
And, oh, how excited he was! He had entertained the possibility of paranormal forces being involved in the disappearances before, but to not only see, to experience such unshakable evidence — it was like a UFOlogist getting abducted by grays. Then again, no sane and rational person would ever take him seriously when he got back; Orie wouldn’t have believed himself, either. Of course he couldn’t abandon a natural explanation without exhausting all the possibilities first; maybe he was dreaming, or comatose, or hallucinating from sleep deprivation, or high on drugs that had been slipped in his drink somehow.
But after that was through — well, Mara showed up again, so Apollo would be soon to follow, surely? Then once that guy came back, Mana would follow suit in due time, and then poof! and everyone’s lives would return to normalcy. Right? That was the plan.
Ah, but first he ought to talk to his fellow missing-persons. It would at least be courteous.
“Hello there!” Still lying on the ground, Orie pushed and propped himself up to a sitting position. He gave them a little wave. “Were the both of you in Caulder’s Hollow too?”
He didn’t see the creature appear, or approach closer, or shoot out hooks and lines from its too-wide gaping maw. Not until his grisly fate had become inevitable.
That’s really rusty…
For a moment he simply looked on as the curved blade found purchase in his left leg, digging deeply into his thigh. A brief tranquility, during which he felt the fog of confusion clear from his mind all at once. It was a rusty hook indeed. What if I got tetanus? That would be quite bad. This fleeting enlightenment came to an end when his body began to react. Orie couldn’t stand upright, even with crutches or a wall to lean against. But he could certainly feel a pin pricking his legs, let alone a meathook tearing apart and into his flesh; he could feel it, and it was painful.
First he let out an involuntary gasp.
And then he screamed.
cut tear blood
splatter spurt
blood splatter flowing
spurt gushing blood flowing
ooze flow flow flow
help blood blood pain flow it hurts drip blood
trickle blood
drip
Orie choked. Now it was hard to breathe and harder to speak. The metal wire went taut and began tugging him towards the creature, like a fisher reeling in its catch. He tried to pull the hook free — it stayed, stuck fast — pulling again, in vain — he turned and reached out to the two men nearby.
“Sirs, please…! Help me get this out!”
Instead of the smoothness of gas station concrete, however, Orie found himself sprawled over a rough and rocky asphalt road, with a little scrape on his forehead to show for it. The Red Racer was gone. With it went the lights and sirens of the State Patrol cruiser, and Dakota’s sedan from which he’d just come rolling out, and Dakota herself for that matter. And, he noted, his wheelchair. Yet somehow the tablet he’d been holding was still with him, albeit with a new scratch on its screen, as was the notebook in his pocket. All other traces of the reality of one minute ago seem to have been wiped away, painted over by this foreign scenery.
The welcome sign caught his eye first. ‘Anigma Fluxx’, it read.
Neither of those sounded like English words, or any sort of word at all. Well, many place names were like that. Perhaps it was a portmanteau, ‘anima’ plus ‘enigma’. Taking ‘Fluxx’ to be a variant of ‘flux’, that would mean — ‘Mystery of the Ever-changing Soul’? Pfft. Orie wouldn’t have thought twice about a children’s detective story having that for a title. All right, maybe I’m reading too much into it. Having a little laugh distracted him from the eerie wrongness of his surroundings: the sign, the sky, the silence.
At least Orie wasn’t alone in this strange place. There were two older men as well, both looking as disoriented as he. In fact, he even recognised one of them: the father of Ha-eun, who had also gone missing two years ago — Seong Jin-soo. ‘Also’, because Orie thought he knew what was going on.
Eight moons in the night sky — eight people whisked away — clock on the dashboard had read 11:41 PM — half the missing eight had last been seen shortly before midnight — at least two people present with links to the eight — well, weren’t the implications obvious? And all this happening on the night that Mara comes back? That would be some spectacular coincidence. Now, Orie was no conspiracy theorist, but he was quite confident in his quickly-formed conclusion: the three of them, too, were now ‘missing’.
And, oh, how excited he was! He had entertained the possibility of paranormal forces being involved in the disappearances before, but to not only see, to experience such unshakable evidence — it was like a UFOlogist getting abducted by grays. Then again, no sane and rational person would ever take him seriously when he got back; Orie wouldn’t have believed himself, either. Of course he couldn’t abandon a natural explanation without exhausting all the possibilities first; maybe he was dreaming, or comatose, or hallucinating from sleep deprivation, or high on drugs that had been slipped in his drink somehow.
But after that was through — well, Mara showed up again, so Apollo would be soon to follow, surely? Then once that guy came back, Mana would follow suit in due time, and then poof! and everyone’s lives would return to normalcy. Right? That was the plan.
Ah, but first he ought to talk to his fellow missing-persons. It would at least be courteous.
“Hello there!” Still lying on the ground, Orie pushed and propped himself up to a sitting position. He gave them a little wave. “Were the both of you in Caulder’s Hollow too?”
He didn’t see the creature appear, or approach closer, or shoot out hooks and lines from its too-wide gaping maw. Not until his grisly fate had become inevitable.
That’s really rusty…
For a moment he simply looked on as the curved blade found purchase in his left leg, digging deeply into his thigh. A brief tranquility, during which he felt the fog of confusion clear from his mind all at once. It was a rusty hook indeed. What if I got tetanus? That would be quite bad. This fleeting enlightenment came to an end when his body began to react. Orie couldn’t stand upright, even with crutches or a wall to lean against. But he could certainly feel a pin pricking his legs, let alone a meathook tearing apart and into his flesh; he could feel it, and it was painful.
First he let out an involuntary gasp.
And then he screamed.
cut tear blood
splatter spurt
blood splatter flowing
spurt gushing blood flowing
ooze flow flow flow
help blood blood pain flow it hurts drip blood
trickle blood
drip
Orie choked. Now it was hard to breathe and harder to speak. The metal wire went taut and began tugging him towards the creature, like a fisher reeling in its catch. He tried to pull the hook free — it stayed, stuck fast — pulling again, in vain — he turned and reached out to the two men nearby.
“Sirs, please…! Help me get this out!”
