Post by Ammie on Jun 3, 2013 9:46:02 GMT -8
A blast of cold air blew open the sliding glass door to the apartment's balcony, which was ridiculous because that stuff doesn't really happen, especially in June.
It carried the fear-inducing aroma of ancient brine, far more cloying than the salty ocean-breath of a holiday at the beach, unless you'd gone on holiday in Solomon Island before the Tokyo Incident, and were now on a somewhat more permanent holiday, hence the fear.
No stranger to unwelcome incursions of primeval Prime-evils, Ammie reacted with haste to close the door and lock it. Twice. She seized a vaguely cat-shaped Beanie Baby from the bookcase nearby and quickly filled it with enough Anima to serve as an emergency focus. She turned her attention to the room just in time to see the dark lines in each corner growing ever larger, bleeding into that familiar Filthy blackness in sticky, glistening, throbbing tentacles that searched and groped along the apartment walls, knocking off shelves, and turning into oily, tenebrous tumors over the hanging pictures.
Lightning crackled between the fingers of Ammie's extended right hand like a Jacob's Ladder as she turned side-to-side, slowing her breathing to regain control of her racing heart.
A rattling noise took the stage, echoing from the kitchen. Ammie stalked to its entrance, pinpointing the rattle to the largest cabinet - a ceiling-to-countertop turntable where she and Shay kept their liquor collection.
"Oh, you bloody tosser...you've done it now!" She grinned, jerking the cabinet door open, only to be met by the glare of a softball-sized orange lidless eye, framed by a writhing bed of ichorous bulbs, growths, and tentacles. A milky membrane slid over the eye as Ammie let the lightning surge from her with a warcry! For all its power, the electrical doom flashed impotently across the horror's surface, only to be answered by a sickening display of popping, oozing growths that gave Ammie the simultaneous impression of both verbal derision and physical desecration.
Filth-covered tentacles launched forth from the beast in such number that they left no avenue of retreat, snagging Ammie by the neck, arms, and hair. It squeezed her with those stinking, tar-like appendages and dragged her inextricably towards the cabinet with surprising strength. She stared into the unblinking eye as an enormous tooth-filled maw metastasized below it, reeking of rotting flesh and hopelessness.
Ammie screamed and struggled, unleashing all of the most un-ladylike words in her employ, including some in a particular demonic language that were so horribly, descriptively degrading that even the denizens of Hell reserved them for special occasions.
Just as maw dilated to consume her, she sat upright in bed screaming, with enough force to fling beads of cold sweat clear across the bed. Disoriented and suddenly free, she scooted backwards violently into the headboard with an audible 'wham' punctuated with a sharp 'thump' as her head struck against it.
Shay was startled into the waking world by the screams, and turned to face Ammie just in time to see the noggin-bop. She sat up and moved to put a comforting hand on Ammie's head, and tried her best not to cackle madly.
"Ooooh, baby, what? Did you have a nightmare?" she managed, with only a hint of a snicker.
Ammie looked up at her with saucer-sized eyes, and wrapped her arms around Shay's neck.
"Ugh! It was horrible! Just bloody...UGH!" she shook her head, considering how to describe it, and giving up. "It was this...impossible, filthy...filthy Filth fuck! I think...it must have come from going into that pocket dimension with the others - the Dreamers trying to mess with me..."
Shay, it ate -all- the liquor. It was all gone, baby, all of it...the Napoleon brandy, the old absinthe...everything, just gone!
Shit just got real. Shay's mirth melted, and she began to pet Ammie's hair comfortingly. "Oooh, oh, it was just a dream. Just a dream. You're awake now. Come on. Let's go check the cabinet and make sure it's all there. And tomorrow, if you want to, we can go kill a bunch of squid-head guys."
Ammie smiled. She was feeling better already.
It carried the fear-inducing aroma of ancient brine, far more cloying than the salty ocean-breath of a holiday at the beach, unless you'd gone on holiday in Solomon Island before the Tokyo Incident, and were now on a somewhat more permanent holiday, hence the fear.
No stranger to unwelcome incursions of primeval Prime-evils, Ammie reacted with haste to close the door and lock it. Twice. She seized a vaguely cat-shaped Beanie Baby from the bookcase nearby and quickly filled it with enough Anima to serve as an emergency focus. She turned her attention to the room just in time to see the dark lines in each corner growing ever larger, bleeding into that familiar Filthy blackness in sticky, glistening, throbbing tentacles that searched and groped along the apartment walls, knocking off shelves, and turning into oily, tenebrous tumors over the hanging pictures.
Lightning crackled between the fingers of Ammie's extended right hand like a Jacob's Ladder as she turned side-to-side, slowing her breathing to regain control of her racing heart.
A rattling noise took the stage, echoing from the kitchen. Ammie stalked to its entrance, pinpointing the rattle to the largest cabinet - a ceiling-to-countertop turntable where she and Shay kept their liquor collection.
"Oh, you bloody tosser...you've done it now!" She grinned, jerking the cabinet door open, only to be met by the glare of a softball-sized orange lidless eye, framed by a writhing bed of ichorous bulbs, growths, and tentacles. A milky membrane slid over the eye as Ammie let the lightning surge from her with a warcry! For all its power, the electrical doom flashed impotently across the horror's surface, only to be answered by a sickening display of popping, oozing growths that gave Ammie the simultaneous impression of both verbal derision and physical desecration.
Filth-covered tentacles launched forth from the beast in such number that they left no avenue of retreat, snagging Ammie by the neck, arms, and hair. It squeezed her with those stinking, tar-like appendages and dragged her inextricably towards the cabinet with surprising strength. She stared into the unblinking eye as an enormous tooth-filled maw metastasized below it, reeking of rotting flesh and hopelessness.
Ammie screamed and struggled, unleashing all of the most un-ladylike words in her employ, including some in a particular demonic language that were so horribly, descriptively degrading that even the denizens of Hell reserved them for special occasions.
Just as maw dilated to consume her, she sat upright in bed screaming, with enough force to fling beads of cold sweat clear across the bed. Disoriented and suddenly free, she scooted backwards violently into the headboard with an audible 'wham' punctuated with a sharp 'thump' as her head struck against it.
Shay was startled into the waking world by the screams, and turned to face Ammie just in time to see the noggin-bop. She sat up and moved to put a comforting hand on Ammie's head, and tried her best not to cackle madly.
"Ooooh, baby, what? Did you have a nightmare?" she managed, with only a hint of a snicker.
Ammie looked up at her with saucer-sized eyes, and wrapped her arms around Shay's neck.
"Ugh! It was horrible! Just bloody...UGH!" she shook her head, considering how to describe it, and giving up. "It was this...impossible, filthy...filthy Filth fuck! I think...it must have come from going into that pocket dimension with the others - the Dreamers trying to mess with me..."
Shay, it ate -all- the liquor. It was all gone, baby, all of it...the Napoleon brandy, the old absinthe...everything, just gone!
Shit just got real. Shay's mirth melted, and she began to pet Ammie's hair comfortingly. "Oooh, oh, it was just a dream. Just a dream. You're awake now. Come on. Let's go check the cabinet and make sure it's all there. And tomorrow, if you want to, we can go kill a bunch of squid-head guys."
Ammie smiled. She was feeling better already.