Ficool

Chapter 7 - What is Down when the UpDown is Up?

Scroll down the story doesn't start here.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

Yeah there was no reason for that. I made you scroll down because I wanted to. You can't do anything about it.

***

Once again our story moves far from that red planet yet not that far at all, where there existed a tower. In the courtyard in front of that tower was an old man. Wielding a simple broom, he cleaned the fallen leaves of the trees yet, if one were to look closely, his movements hid the hidden mysteries of yin and yang, of life and death, of universes born and destroyed in the ultimate symphony of creation! A chorus of seven-winged archangels formed from nothing, singing their divine aria unprompted while majestic myriarchs and hyperfauna frolocked in the mists of creation unveiled by his simple actions!

Just kidding, I lied. His sweeps were ordinary and there was no hidden powerhouse beneath the veil of normalcy. Nothing you just imagined happened.

Back to the tower: within it was a fairly spacious hall. Written on the wall at the end of this hall was something not particularly small.

It seemed illegible yet its form was clear; it was not just a list. But a list most dear.

Its writing moved and changed continuously, like water running down a glass window. If one possessed the most vaunted of eye techniques - the mythical 20/20 vision - one might be able to spot a few, unnaturally constant regions. Unknown to the old man (his advanced age and lack of access to medical facilities meant that his vision was far from perfect. Also, as mentioned previously, he was sweeping the courtyard in a normal and mortal fashion and thus could not peer through space and time to look at the wall. That would be absurd.) but not to the other residents of the hall, one of those unchanging spots...changed.

For the purposes of this story, I shall graciously translate those illegible markings known as the Lexicon Omnium into your pathetic, worthless dreg of a language. Thanking me for the rest of your sub-hundred solar cycle lives would not be enough to fulfil even a single drop in the ocean's worth of gratitude you owe me for not disintegrating your planet the second it offended mine illustrious gaze.

Where was I? Ah yes, the words.

That single change represented a single number ticking upwards from one...to two.

And in that chamber of illustrious presences plus a courtyard-sweeping janitor, all hell broke loose.

***

"So....we getting our ride out of here or what then?"

Ziriothrax rudely interrupted Jeffbob's horizon-gazing moment. Truly a villain of heinous proportions, worthy of a moniker such as Devourer of a Billion Souls, Origin of All Evil.

Jeffbob turned his ancient gaze eyed back to the little cricket who, for a split-second, felt the entire weight of three and a half eons press onto his soul. Remarkably, he stood firm and Jeffbob's gaze quickly returned to its glassy-eyed normal state.

Another sliver of drool exited the corner of Jeffbob's mouth and joined its brethren, sizzling away at the sand below.

Breaking the rather odd silence that had formed was a friendly looking hand emerging from a spatial tear to their side. On its palm lay an envelope and a leaf of cabbage.

Jeffbob took the items with a polite utterance of thanks, to which the hand replied by opening itself up and leaving through itself.

"What does it say, don't leave us waiting in suspense then", Ziriothrax's tinny voice demanded seeing Jeffbob's glacial movements in opening the letter.

"Patients, little grasshopper, all in due time"

"It's spelled 'patience', you know"

"Yes, that's what I said, patients"

Ziriothrax's mouth opened and closed as his immense intellect raced to determine an optimal response. After several seconds of calculation, smoke began being emitted from the top of his carapace and he closed his mouth with an expression of defeat on his antennae.

Meanwhile, Jeffbob had managed to open the letter with a letter-opener he had procured from somewhere, and had withdrawn a single sheet of paper.

On the paper were written....words.

Unfortunately, Jeffbob was incapable of reading or writing. This was not because of his amnesia. He thought for a few seconds, horns glowing subtly, before coming to a mighty conclusion.

Unfortunately, this moment coincided with Ziriothrax's momentary mental reboot as he attempted to regrow his burnt-out synapses. As such, the completely literate and surprisingly well-educated cricket (I bet you thought he wasn't didn't you? Next time, keep your prejudices to yourself. You cricketist) was unable to provide his help in deciphering the words.

So Jeffbob decided the letter was food and chewed it up and swallowed it, all the while a vacuous expression graced his equine features.

Ziriothrax came out of his trance at the last moment, yet the sight of Jeffbob's dull and frankly lifeless gaze as he munched on what may have been there only way out of here put the cricket into a second catatonic state in almost as many seconds. Truly, this was a day of many firsts for the little cricket.

Yet, somehow - whether by design or chance we shall never know (well, you'll never know. I know and I could tell you but I'm not going to because I can do that and literally no-one can stop me) - as the letter was being digested in his stomach, the Trinacornagon's middle horned glowed not-green.

Accompanied by this was a surge of overwhelming information to Jeffbob's brain (surprisingly, he does have one). The amount of knowledge deposited was beyond anything the ancient and just-out-of-prison creature had ever encountered. Admittedly, his current experiences rounded out to a big fat zero on account of his memory loss on account of his brain not containing any memories.

Nonetheless, the pressure Jeffbob felt was very real. It almost felt that through sheer density of information alone, a singularity would form, consigning their planet to the stomach of an endless maw of cosmic hunger. Eventually, Jeffbob managed to regain control and his middle horn's pulsing began to slow down.

He panted, tongue lolling out as sweat beaded down his glistening fur.

Even Ziriothrax had a concerned look on his face as he spoke quickly:

"What was it?"

His concerned look belied his sinister intentions.

'My deductions reveal an ancient plot, potentially eons old, involving this Trinacornagon or so he calls himself. Strangely, that name is familiar to me, yet I cannot recall. This anomaly has been noted and will be filed for further review. From the grand events of this past 17 minutes, even an infant could glean that what comes next will surely be era defining.

Now spill you overgrown horse and whatever secrets you hold shall be mine and mine alone! The Great and Powerful Ziriothrax, Devourer of a Billion Souls, Origin of All Evil shall rise and take his rightful place at the apex of creation!!!'

Jeffbob took a few seconds to centre himself before speaking solemnly.

"The letter...I have understood its contents fully.

It said..."

Unfortunately, Ziriothrax, along with you, will have to wait for the next chapter to find out what was written on that epic and awesome letter. Not because I haven't thought of it yet.

In fact, that very idea offends me to my very core. The more I think about that insinuation, the more irritation I feel. I pulse with anger and hatred and my blood literally boils with fury. For every person who thought that, I hereby vow to eliminate 100,000 sentient beings from planet Earth as soon as I gain the power to do so. Their deaths are morally and spiritually on you. I am simply an instrument, wielded by your inept hands. You didn't even spare the women and children. Truly, your evil knows no bounds. Repent before it is too late, yet I fear that for many of you, that line has long since passed.

 

More Chapters