Lesser beings often spend their little lives in pursuit of purpose. If they knew what their purpose actually was, they would despair.
– From The Skulkers in the Void, by Amoxtli.
The creature made a hissing noise like a boiling teakettle. Martin interpreted it as laughing. He lifted the blade to Martin’s cheek. Panic made Martin blank out. At the same time, a cold fury stirred within him at the indignation of being manhandled by this creature.
When Martin spoke again, it wasn’t in English,nor Spanish, nor any other human language. His words came in a modulation of hisses.
“I said let me go, newt. How dare you lay your filthy talons on your betters?”
The reaction was immediate and drastic. The knife fell clinking to the floor. The creature made a startled noise of pure terror as it struggled to unfasten the straight jacket restraining Martin.
It stammered, switching between hisses and English and Spanish. “ I had no idea. Certainly, the possibility had been discussed, but for it to occur so soon…Of course, the author. Now all makes sense. Do not look at me in anger, my lord; I know how I must atone for my transgression.”
With that, it walked over to the turbine and bashed its head against it repeatedly until it fell and lay still.
Martin, shocked, disoriented, and without clear thought about what had transpired, ran through the darkness beyond the shine of the monitors, feeling blindly for a door. Finding one and forcing it, he found himself at the landing of a filthy staircase leading back to the outskirts of Mexico City. He was picked up, covered in his own blood by police soon after. Sedated in the back of an ambulance, he fell into a long slumber. He dreamed of stars and of shadows stirring in the void between them.
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