There was a popular photo of a 90’s era McDonalds ashtray on Reddit, and it brought back so many childhood memories, back in a time when hefty ashtrays adorned every table like glass roses, and florescent lighted rooms were foggy with those dry, earthy-sweet fumes.
That’s a wrap for inktober 2017! You can also follow me on instagram @_automaton for more frequent updates and works in progress.
“As Hector chanted the last of those blasphemous words, the empty space before me shimmered and twisted, then seemed to ‘tear open’ into a hole that was neither light nor darkness, flickering with a thousand colours yet no colour at all.
From this ingress the terrible beast emerged, though not as one enters through a doorway, rather the form seemed to be arriving and leaving, while already there, all at once! The effect dazzled mine eyes and mind such that I may have fainted if it were not for the sheer terror wrenching at mine heart!
The piercing shrieks from Hector began and ended as abruptly as a snapped lute string, and then only thick, dead silence. The cluttered study before me was unchanged, no hole, nor any trace of action, and no Hector. Only a gaseous glimmer of strange colours.”
“I awoke from mine slumber troubled with nebulous rememberances of ghastly things. I arose from the bed, no longer pleasant for it was dank with cold sweat.
I looked out the bay window of mine second storied tavern room, and saw nothing in the night sky save for the moon, waning to a wicked grin.
The sound of hurried galloping broke out in the near distance, somewhere below. By the faint moon gleam I could hardly discern the form of a horse with rider. At this sight, mine hairs prickled in gooseflesh, and an eerie feeling arose that while I had lain in mine disturbed torpor, something, ‘somebody’ had seated atop mine chest.”
Run was all I could do when I beheld the blaze of infernal mane mantled upon that nightmare head, and even as mine ears filled with the drum thunder of mine bursting heart, I could hear the echo of that terrible cackling bellow.”
Journal entry pending.
“On a moonlit night, I was traveling toward the outskirts of town. Somewhere along the cold, cobbled paths, a low, inky form arose, slinking beneath the shadowed eaves. I steadied mine nerves and quickened mine pace.
The long shape vaulted dexterously over street clutter and debris with silent, aqueous motion.
A vixenly voice slipped out from the shadow, and I drew sharp breath in startlement, but recognition came to mine senses as I listened.
“Alive without breath,
As cold as death,
Clad in mail never clinking,
Never thirsty, ever drinking.
What am I?”
“A fish.” I replied in a moment, as my recollections came together.
“It walks on four legs in the morning,
two legs at noon and – ”
“Man.” I countered, before she could exhaust that ageless riddle.
A shaft of silver moonbeam traced over the path, revealing a flitting image that I had now anticipated: a feminine face with eyes that shone like gold gilded mirrors.
The air hung silent for a moment before she continued:
“What does man love more than life
Fear more than – ”
“Don’t you have mice to catch?” I mockingly cut in.
She swung around to give a resentful hiss before bounding up and across the rooftops with feline swiftness.
The dead silence felt heavy now, and I rather regretted the contemptuous dismissal of my unlikely companion, for any company might gladden the cheerless night journey.”
“First, harvest a plump mandrake root during the equinox when the sun is at zenith. Take the twine from a noose with which a man has been hanged, and bind the root with it to fasion the aspect of a body, and stain the whole with the master’s seed.
In the same day, at midnight, the effigy must be buried over the grave of a dead man.
For thirty days it must be norished wisely with a solution of goat’s milk, man’s blood and sap of oak. At the last, the master is to crop the growth, and gather it into a knot to be carried always.”
– alchemical formula for a golem of mandragola
Journal entry pending.