All Ground Up

By: L.

Sep 17 2016

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Category: self

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Aperture:f/4.5
Focal Length:7.2mm
ISO:80
Shutter:1/400 sec
Camera:FinePix F810

 

What follows is not complete gibberish, but nor is it complete, I just had to begin somewhere.

Following at Willoughby’s heels, Amelia stepped into the daylit drawing room.  All of the heavy window coverings had been heaved aside, and light suffused or danced upon every surface in what had once been

Turning to her left, she could see into the dining room where she had eaten the evening meal with so many compatriots now lost, each seat now bearing some ghostly presence in her mind.  A maddening echo of laughter, her own voice asking for another glass of wine.

They strode, with no pause to linger in reverie into the laboratory itself.

Willoughby,

“He should be here…he should be…”

Sitting at

“I let the servants go.  They will no longer be needed.”

“Ammon…”

“There are wounds, Madame, that the lily cannot mend.  Wounds in bodies

He struggled to his feet.

“Am I meant to believe this?  Any of this?”

“You have your eyes.  I am sorry.  The journey has not been a simple one and there is little enough time

“I’m afraid I cannot be satisfied by a ‘suffice to say.’  If I have been duped

Willoughby laid down

“I am absolutely desperate for a cup.  I imagine your morning would also be improved.

He offered the cup with two hands as a priest offers the blood of the Lord.   The hands were flagrantly covered with the

“Tell me what I need to know…no, first, tell me these markings. The marks on your hands, what are they?”

“A passport.”

 

“I am not whatsoever it is that you have molded Willoughby into.  I am not capable, much less willing, to clean up this hell.

Somewhere in the far off distance, she could hear a voice, youthful, but anguished.

“It does not open but for a death in this other world.  And the monsters that rule there have a vise-grip upon its control.  At the appointed time, on the appointed day, we climb to the ritual font and

He looked down into his teacup, as if it held the only warmth in his body.  When he looked up at her, she could see the birth of a tear in the corner of his eye.  Amelia couldn’t help feeling unsettled at this.

“All the time we dined, and as we waited for the pudding, some poor soul was facing their end.”
“You may understand why it was impossible to be of good cheer.  It has not been for a very long time. Even if I wished it, for your sake. I have never made for a good actor, myself.”

“For my sake? Why should this be your burden?”

“I owe your father my life and the lives of all those who are crushed under

“What should destroy mad magic if not mad science?
“My father was not a scientist.”
“No, he was a procurer of what was needed, be it souls or scientists

“Was?”

“I…this is not a conversation for this world, Amelia.  There is a context I cannot give you, no matter how many cups are shared between us.  You must come back with me and see for yourself.”
“See? What?”
“You are what I am to gather, on this, my final trip through the looking glass.

 

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