Cornucopia

"In mourning of the principle of free will, they grieved the guilt inherent. Heads low as they took the stand. Charged with its decay."

- Judgement of the Angels +

Azabel

The office was thirty floors above ground. Long glass windows, made murals of the glowing cityscape.

Marty sat at his desk and didn't look up when his office door opened. "Make it quick, he said. "I have another call in five."

The man who walked in closed the door gently behind him. His aura moved the air around the room. "I remember when you used to say a prayer before meetings."

Marty looked up slow. "Do I know you?"

The visitor smiled. "You knew me better when you were afraid of losing things."

Marty scoffed. "Look, if this is about a donation, talk to my assistant."

The visitor stepped closer, and the room dimmed. Darker around the edges. "We had an agreement."

Marty leaned back. Impatient. "I've made a lot of agreements."

"Not like this one." two dark appendages rose slowly behind the visitor. "You were desperate. Cornered. You asked for an outcome you hadn't earned."

Marty took a long swallow. "We all hustle."

A step closer. "You offered."

Marty's eyes circled. "I don't believe in that."

The visitor interlocked his hands behind his back and quoted:

The sad truth is that most evil is done by people who never make up their minds to be good or evil.

Marty shrugged. "Gandhi?"

The visitor looked off. The darkness behind him sharpened. "You asked for success," he said "And in return..." his head reclined slightly. "...you agreed to be harvestable."

Marty laughed. "Okay, we're done here." He stood. And then he felt it. Weight. Like something pressed down on him, and he was only now aware of the pressure.

The visitor watched him carefully. "You've done very well for yourself, Marty." he said. "And we've been very patient."

Marty took a shallow breath. "What are you talking about?"

"Every deal you closed, every betrayal you justified, every moment you chose ambition over anything resembling grace..."

The room squeezed, the oxygen forced out.

"...you were accruing a tab."

Marty felt something move behind him. He turned, and for a split-second, he saw it. Red-eyed mass, draped and swollen, it peeled itself from his spine. "No!" He fell forward, his hands scratched at his back.

On his belly, he made a feeble attempt to slither away, no longer able to fill his lungs.

"God---please--hel--"

The visitor bent to Marty's ear. "The number you have dialed, is no longer in service. Please hang up...and try again."

The Goddess of Love

Amorena

Convinced of her divinity they gathered.

Hands prepared for the offering.

The altar of veneration could be seen by anyone who peered through the black window.

Her movement inspired a trance of devotion.

Believers in the abundance she could provide.

Chanting toward transcendence--

the moment the mind split from the body.

Ecstasy made the incision painless.

Her cup runneth over with blessings.

Libations from those elevated by her aura.

Her beads aren't as holy as they once were.

The cross she bears by its shaft.

What's the price of adoration in a world that's all but forgotten the meaning of true love?

$9.99 a month.

Because even in that dark, dismal hell--

a goddess needs to eat.

Tsukiko

Dr. Tsukiko Chen adjusted the seal on her glove and watched the sample she had been given stabilize beneath the glass. The transfer authorization was practically one big redaction.

Specimen R-1

"Still talking to it?"

She stayed focused. "Only when no one's listening."

Her colleague, Abdul, leaned in the doorway, he casually played off his curiosity.

"Anything exciting?"

Tsu angled her head at the dark viscous mass, calmly suspended. "It resists classification."

"That's the astute way of saying you have no idea what you're looking at."

"It's the scientific way of saying no one does." She positioned upright. "It doesn't seem to respond to stimulus, consistently. It's almost as if its variability tends to be linked more with the observer."

Abdul nods. "So it's judging you," he said, as he turned to leave the room.

"It's going to have to get in line for that."

The door closed softly.

Tsu grabbed the manual probe.

"Making contact," she said, for the log.

The instrument breached the containment field.

The filament touched the surface of the sample.

Nothing happened.

Tsu looked away. When she turned back, the sample had moved.

Wrapped itself around the filament.

"Whoa--"

The readouts spiked. Tsu then looked toward the console. But when she looked back, the sample was gone.

Panic. Then she felt it.

A sting. Sharp.

She jerked her hand back, instinctively. There was a small breach in the seal of her glove. Her heart skipped.

"Containment breach," she said, "Possible exposure."

Inside the enclosure, the sample had reappeared. Unchanged. Suspended in its original orb-like state. Tsu felt lightheaded. Adrenaline burst. Deep breath. "Run decon," she commanded.

Sterilization mist flooded the chamber.

"Log incident," she winced. "Monitoring required."

She took some breaths and steadied herself. Her nerves clung to calm like a thin ledge.

Then from the corner of her eye--smudges. Lots of them. They trailed across the lab floor like dark footprints and lead toward the door. Tsu blinked rapidly.

Still there.

She followed them with hesitance. They appeared to be burned into the floor. She kneeled down and placed her hand over them.

Cold.

Her breathing seemed louder. Harsher. The air seemed thinner. Like something was slowly replacing it. Breath by breath. She opened the door. The dark prints stretched deep into the hall.

Tsu's eyes squint. Her mind searched. It backed slowly away from the blank dark of the unknown, and dug its forefingers into the ledge of calm.

Tsu followed the prints with her eyes straightforward, not wanting to look as crazy as she felt. Somehow, it made her feel even crazier.

Around the corner, the prints didn't stop--they turned sharply--toward the emergency stairwell.

A click of the handle, the door groaned.

Inside, the world narrowed. Concrete. Reverberating sound.

The prints led up the steps. She followed.

26...27...28...29...

30th floor.

Tsu huffed. Her legs burned.

The red door was ajar.

With hesitant pressure, she pushed her way in.

The prints stopped at the threshold. She looked up--

--and there he was.

Marty.

Disheveled near the far wall, one shoe missing. Tie pulled loose. Shirt ripped open. His chest rose and fell...unnaturally.

Artificially. Something was attached to him.

At first, her mind couldn't separate light from shadow in any way that made sense. Until it moved.

A large, heavy mass, wrapped in the darkness that surrounded it, came into focus.

It swallowed in what Marty breathed out. It grabbed it from him. Feeding off his terror.

Tsu walked backward. Shivering.

She covered her mouth with both of her quivering hands, and stuffed her scream back down into the pit of her stomach.

Her head nodded sure, affirming a directive fired repeatedly by her mind.

Run.

She fell and ran in the same stride, caught by the hallway floor and thrown forward.

Her fingers had slipped completely off the ledge. Freefall.

Corner...

turn...

corner...

fall...

door...

straight.

She collided into Abdul, his coffee spilled all over his white lab coat.

"Whoa, whoa! Tsu--what's the matter? You okay? You look--"

Before the words jump from Tsu's mouth, a jittery dark red creature rises from behind him. Bloodshot eyes first. It seemed to be practicing expressions before Abdul made them. Talking to itself and whispering in his ear.

"I--" Tsu chokes. "I have to--"

"Hey, seriously, what's going on?"

Abdul stepped toward her. The thing crawled higher up his back.

Tsu turned and bolted.

Phone in hand. Dialing.

Husband.

It rang. And rang And rang.

"Come on, come on, come on--"

Elevator doors parted. Down button mashed.

Voicemail.

She jammed her thumb against the screen and ended the call.

The descent was a blur of mirrored walls and her own reflection splintered with every claustrophobic second. For a moment, she thought she saw something move behind her. She refused to look again.

The doors opened.

She teetered to the solid ground and pale sky of the outside world.

Cars passed. Conversations gurgled. Laughter. Chirping.

Relief flooded her system--

--and then burst.

Splash.

She saw them everywhere.

A woman entered the crosswalk, she smiled at something on her phone screen, on her shoulders hung something lanky and insectile, its snout buried firm at the base of her throat.

A man shouted into the air, ecstatic, fists clenched. Three spiny, tear-shaped shadows swooped around him. They took turns as they dipped in and out like birds feeding.

A couple kissed on the side of a building. Something that resembled a large serpent coiled around them both, and swallowed all of the colored energy that passed from one to the other.

Tsu staggered. Fingers beneath her eyes. No one reacted. No one could see.

Her attention turned to a small boy who sat on a bench, his tiny legs crossed. A worn teddy bear tucked beside him. Tsu could see the soft, golden thread between them. It ran from the boy's chest to the bear, and created a vibrating aura around them. Like vapor distortion.

Creatures lingered at the edge of it. And watched.

None of them touched it.

Tsu's phone vibrated.

Video call. Husband.

She stared at it...longer than she wanted to.

Then answered.

Call connected.

"Honey? Are you okay?"

She breathes heavy. "I-I don't know, I--"

....It was close to him. Touched him.

With many hands.

Like it knew him. Intimately. Like it understood him. Knew where he needed it. How he needed it.

It was oily. Glittery.

There were three of them.

Something else was eerily off. Her husband hadn't acknowledged her. At all.

The longer she watched she realized...

...he had no idea she was even there.

A face popped in from the side of the screen. "Oh-shi--"

The call ended.

It was her best friend.