Sunday, February 12, 2012

I Am M@rked...

By the stain of the creature clinging to my left arm. The hunt begins. I am to be absorbed, my energy fueling the empire of a sick old man. I jump out of elevators, run through a school auditorium, behind Mr. Sunseri's kitchen, climb tree after tree, but even after I have destroyed their master with a swirling golden ball of Thermite and death, the minions still besiege me. I jump into a car with a girl and her mother, and shout at them to drive as if their lives depend on it- which they do, now that I have pulled them into my problems. The mother peels out of the school parking lot with the fury of one used to long commutes and five-minutes-to-spare arrivals, racing down the windy Oregon roads at near the speed of light. I can feel individual skin cells separating from each other, starting to peel off my face in fury...Perhaps I'd be safer in the hands of the bloodthirsty minions.

I jump out the window just before the car careens off the side of a mildly steep precipice. Thankfully, the mother installed ejection seats complete with parachutes, and she and her daughter float in safety to the valley floor. I turn to face the dust cloud slowly growing as the henchmen gallop nearer. I am tired, and kinda feeling lazy, so I guess I'll finally fight them so I don't have to keep running. Sheesh. Talk about unwanted exercise, I've come halfway around the globe!

I stop in the middle of the road.

A small bird hops across, and I imagine that is is a fierce and crusty tumbleweed. I hum showdown theme music in my head.

As the leader of the dust cloud minions steps forward, I ready myself to fight-- but he holds up his hands. "We come in peace," he asserts, clapping his hands. The warriors behind him promptly sit in the dust. "We merely wish to offer the removal of your mark. It is an unseemly thing to display to the public, in our culture. Now our master is dead, we are no longer obligated to suck out your soul, and would like to have the tracking creature back for...other purposes.

"But...what will you do with it?" I ask.

"Make stew."

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