Monday, February 9
Prince: Part 11 – The Eye of God
Jim-Bean got flashes of a huge, rust-red plant hurtling through deep space. It was red as rust, featureless except for bulbous protrusions like hills. Except that of course they weren’t hills if he could see them at that distance; they had to be immense.
A rusty globe covered with lumps then. That was all, but that couldn’t explained why he felt as if the whole of him were magnetized through his eyes. It seemed to hang ponderously, communicating a thunderous sense of imminence, of power. But that was just its unfamiliarity, thought Jim-Bean, struggling against the suction of boundless space; just the sense of its intrusion.
It was only a planet, after all. Just a red warty globe.
Jim-Bean could hear a kind of tuneless ringing in his head. The ugly, pitted sphere below him reeked of malevolence and power.
Then it moved. As the singing grew louder, Jim-Bean could feel the planet beneath him begin to stir.
The surface of a planet wasn’t supposed to move, it was only a planet. The surface of a planet didn’t crack, didn’t roll back like that, didn’t peel back for thousands of miles to show what’s underneath, pale and glistening. When Jim-Bean tried to scream air whooshed into his lungs as if space had exploded a vacuum within him.
He woke up in his hospital bed with a start. Hammer was next to him, his ribs taped. [MORE]
Labels: d20 modern
posted by Mike Tresca at
6:45 AM
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