"You are haunted by vengeful ghosts."
An old and raspy voice sounded out in a dark room. Its owner cradling a crystal orb within the mist filled room.
"What do I do?"
A tall, gaunt man spoke. His green eyes dulled by the years, his posture lightly hunched as if it would hide him better.
"You must appease the spirits, offer them a piece of you, and let yourself be free from their reign."
The owner of that voice was hidden behind a veil, her hands were wrinkled and yet, they exuded abundant youth.
"What can I offer to them that they will not simply take?"
The man spoke again, his voice was tired and his head dropped lower.
The old lady shifted, one would guess that she smirked at the man before her, others would suggest she scowled at the man's state.
"It is not the substance of the offering, but the act of offering. Boy, if you are so scared of the idea you can simply offer a measly few strands of hair to appease the spirits."
The man stilled, whatever he saw had scared him.
"Very well then, thank you for your time."
He stood to leave, the old lady stayed in her position, cradling her crystal orb.
The bell on the door jingled as the man left, the sign behind him reading [Fortune Reading $10]
Briskly, the man walked, he seemed to have a certain place in mind. His hair a mess atop his head, reaching down to his shoulders but never reaching them.
Past countless intersections he walked, many a pedestrian giving way.
As the man walked he bit his thumbnail, muttering to himself.
"I've tried therapy, the pills didn't work, I've tried religion, there's been no help, I've tried rituals, that didn't work, I've paid for ceremonial blessings, and that still didn't work. If this one doesn't work I might as well just hop off a bridge instead of dying to those things."
He stopped, a simple four way intersection stood before him.
"Here goes nothing." The man mutters to himself again.
He takes a strand of his hair and holds it halfway from the base. With his other hand he yanks at the strand, snapping off just half the strand.
"And now a way to throw it." He mutters then.
He scours the ground for anything and finds a singular piece of concrete. It's small, chipped off of some object in the area, though the man would believe that its birth was caused by what was before him.
An intersection, few cars passed through it. Even fewer people bring up this crossing.
He wrapped the single strand of his hair around the concrete.
"foooo"
Nervous, the man remembered what the old lady said. [-the act of offering-]
So he shook his head and began to speak, the words coming to him unnaturally.
"Oh creature of the mother, creature under the father, I offer you a portion of myself, I give unto you that which you seek. I ask that this offering satisfies you, and that your trial on this mortal plane be finished."
He tossed the hair wrapped concrete to the intersection.
For a tense few seconds the man stared before him. An ordinary intersection, one that had no traffic for this day.
The man's pupils shrunk, as if there had been a bright light before him, but it was merely an intersection. No one was around to witness what he did, if even they could.
Then, after one full minute had passed, the ground shook. From the center of the road the asphalt caved into itself, like a whirlpool everything around spiraled down into one point.
Outside the center of the intersection the road fell down under, exposed wirings from the streetlights and traffic lights held at the edge of the sinkhole.
The man stood paralyzed, his eyes focused on something just before him, the empty air just before him at the edge of the sinkhole.
One could see the infrastructure that was originally under the road, damaged and fully open to the air.
What reflected in the man's eyes was a gaping maw rising out of the ground, taking his offering just as he hoped it would. Its eye staring at his being, beastly, lacking in malice and understanding.
And just like that, it disappeared, leaving just the man and the sinkhole before him. He knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, that if anyone searched for the offering he threw, no one would ever find it here. The chances were not non-zero.
The man looked to the sun, "I know the mother, I think I know who the father is but, who are you?"
He shuddered, "I overstepped." The man ran quickly to his abode within the large city, hiding under awnings and scaffolding. He shrunk back from the sunlight whenever he could.
|click|
The lock to his apartment always made a crisp noise whenever he used it. One of the few upsides in this man's life.
His apartment was mostly bare, the kitchen just next to the door, the living space in front of it, and a small hallway that led to the bedroom and restroom.
The man had adorned his living room with a single chair and several art supplies. His kitchen was spotless, the contents of his pantry being supplements and his fridge held only chicken and lettuce. A single bag of rice could be seen next to the rice cooker.
The man locked the door behind him and quickly closed the blackout curtains. He rushed to his bedroom to do the same.
Within his room there stood a closet, one twin sized mattress with two blankets, a journal with an attached pencil, and some usb-c chargers for his devices.
"No prying eyes here."
The man opened the closet, there were two weeks of clothes in there, he had done laundry the day prior. On the ground of the closet was his sketchbook filled with images of the creatures he had seen in his life.
He grabbed his sketchbook and his journal and went to the living room. He turned the lights on and seated himself on his one chair. He turned on his phone and opened a news broadcast.
With the art supplies he began to color in his most recent work. The creature that he saw at that intersection. Its maw had been the same color as the asphalt, its teeth as white as the paint on the road and its limbs were as gray as the sidewalk.
"A sinkhole appeared on ########" The news was strangely fast today.
"Experts say that an underground water pipe had—" There was nothing of the sort.
The man opened his journal checking his recent entries. 13/10/2007-audit on intersection ##### zero issues with piping and power, normal ground moisture levels.
20/10/2007-audit on intersection ##### zero issues with piping and power, normal ground moisture levels.
30/10/2007-audit on intersection ##### zero issues with piping and power, normal ground moisture levels.
The date was 1/11/2007. The man looked at his phone, the image that the news showed him was of the water pipe they claim to have caused the issue. He scoffed.
"I went with the last audit two days ago, I know for a fact that they checked that pipe and confirmed it was in working order."
"Strange that they let there be so many audits in a short time though" he muttered.
He continued to color his sketch. including the eerie lack of traffic and the cloudless sky.
When the piece was completed he set down his sketchbook and turned his attention to his journal.
Entry 1/11/2007 - First creature subjugated…
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Entry 1/1/2012 - I know what the sun is.