Whenever my fingers start typing or scribbling
I never know what's going to happen

They might drag me down through underground caverns lined with swinging blades
or lead me gently through flowered meadows to the sound of fae in flight

They might decide I'm in for a scare and toss a score of ghouls my way
or drop me neck-deep into a memory that's far beyond my sight

Either way, the urge to type and scribble is always nibbling at my mind
and even when I try to plan
I really never know what's going to happen.

Okay... so I know how this is supposed to go.

I- the hesitant hero- am called on a grand quest,
wherein the fate of the world is at stake.
But I am reluctant to give up my perfectly content life,
so my home is destroyed
or an army approaches,
or something like that.

Blah blah, blahbitty blah!
Can we just skip all this intro stuff?

I'm ready to fight now.
Yeah, where's this great evil?

What- what do you mean I'm not ready yet?
I'm the hero!
That's how this works!

No- don't- all this "training" is pointless-
oh come on!
You're really going to ditch the only hope you have
in the middle of a dark forest,
just so I can prove myself?!
Asshole.

Toughened boots come down
cracking the ancient bone floor.
The beast's eye opens.

I revel in the dust motes
dancing in the sunlight
amidst the giggles of fae

glints of earth and sky alight
float around and above
without touching a mortal soul
but briefly drawing the eye
before our attention unwavers once more.

their flinty smiles have cut away my blindness
peeled away the attachments my forefathers forged

I've decided
that I enjoy their ever-shifting world far more
than this one of concrete

no, you can't come
unless they invite you along

but​ don't worry
maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them
and they'll grow to fancy you
​
maybe your graceful hands and pretty face
are exactly what they're craving

Far below the mountaintops
where no songbird has ever sung
lower than even the most persistent of raindrops reach
sits a tree.

No- not a tree even.
A sapling.
Not yet tall enough to be called grown
but carrying a small fistful of leaves upon its stem.

It sits amidst a darkened copse of its elders
listening to their creaking
taking in their every word
but not quite loud enough to speak.
At least- not with the towering trees above it.

But its voice does reach the tiny insects skittering
and the rodents chittering 'round it
down there on the forest floor.

And while it may not have the stature of its family
or bare sweet fruit
or give off cool shade,
it does hold a certain power within it
that none else do.

If you kneel down next to it
and press your ear to its thin bark
you can just make out its tiny voice.

But what does it say? I'm sure you wonder.
Well... I don't actually know.
I've only heard rumors myself.

Its message is different to everyone who listens though
that one thing's for certain.
Some hear the echos of their lost love
or feel the rekindling of their passions.
Others are shored up by compliments and truths
and come away with a spring in their step.

One day, I'll make it there.
And in the shadows of all those monstrous trees
I'll lay there in the dirt
and we'll have a nice chat,
the sapling and me.

I found another one today.
A spot of darkness on the wall
no more than an inch wide
pulsing silently in time with my heartbeat.

That's three now.

I think they're portals
gateways or something.
One of my pencils slid in easily
then ripped out of my hand
disappearing into the darkness.

I wasn't sure if I'd imagined it or not,
but I could've sworn after it was gone
I heard the sound of lips smacking.

I'm starting to wonder
if they all go somewhere different
or if one day they'll morph into one giant chasm into nothingness.

Who do you call to get rid of spontaneous interdimensional gateways?
Would that be under in the yellow pages under
Supernatural Removal Services?
Or maybe the Eldritch Travel Agency?

First, there was the sound.
A keening wail that tore through the air
parting the thick clouds surrounding us.

Then came the cold.
A bite that didn't come from wind or water
but crept up through the earth we clung to,
sinking through our skin.

The villagers we past had warned us of this.
They'd told us that our shoes were too thin
that the weather would not hold against the Guardians.

But we laughed at their superstitions.
Insisted we knew better.
People who'd studies the natural world for years
but had never stepped foot on their land until today.

We weren't prepared for the sight
of many-jointed fingers reaching from empty sky
or the sensation of our feet shattering into icy stumps.

We weren't prepared for the fingers
ripping us from the rockface
and tossing us back down the cliffs.

The viliagers say
it's a miracle we even survived at all.

Okay then, let's get this straight.

You thought I was an evil monster...
because I have horns and six legs.
So, instead of doing the polite thing and saying hi
or even asking me where I was from,
you pull out your blaster and shoot me.

*Sigh*
I mean, I heal fast
and you're a terrible shot,
but seriously!
Learn some manners!

Is this your first trip off-planet or something?

Ah, you from one of those tiny colonies on the ass end of Pluto?
Thought so.
You folks don't get a lot of visitors there,
especially not Hlcatheci like me.
So it's not so crazy that you lost it soon as you saw me.

Just... promise me you'll stop being so trigger happy?
Good.
Now I won't have to eat you.
Enjoy your vacation!

I know you can feel that coldness crawling upward.
The chill numbness
of emptiness where once there was flesh.
Don't fight it.
Look down
and watch the color drain
pooling beneath you
like sand.
Soon you'll be just like me
and I'll finally let you taste
the sweetness of eternity that you've been yearning for..

Whoever said that dragons are just
hulking, terrifying, monsters,
has never met you. My cute
widdle scaley friend... how
could you be scary?
You're just the most
snuggly thing
ever
​born.