It was a dark and storm-
“Whoa Whoa Whoa. Whoa! I didn’t agree to this.” A high-pitched and grating voice split the darkness.
“Grating? I’ll show you grating yo-“
In a small, cramped and smelly alleyway stood a short woman in the pouring rain. Her vivid pink hair shouted in the dim dreary darkness of the damp city
she found herself in. A few soaked newspapers peeked out from under a nearby dumpster as the wind blew icy onto her face.
“Nice alliterative appeal the- Hey, don’t think you can distract me!”
From the dumpster came a rustling noise, followed by a thin squeaking.
“I swear if anything jumps out at me, I’m gonna- “
With a loud thump, the dumpster top flew open and an absurdly hairy head burrowed out from the trash. It was a.. man with a beard that appeared to teaming
up with his scalp hair in an attempt to devour his face. He smiled, showing several missing teeth. As the mixture of smell from the trash mixed with the
man’s own stench-
“Stop. Now. Before I gag.”
-he perked up and announced defensively in the semi-gibberish tongue of the highly intoxicated that this was his dumpster, hussy.
The ringing sound from the woman’s flattened hand sending the man back into his trash palace filled the alley. Scowling at him and the world in general,
she pulled her thick clothing and scarf around herself and stomped off into the street.
The woman’s name was Thalia and she was a muse.
“Ah, now you’re getting to the intro. About time, bucko.”
Once again, she found herself dragged unwillingly into yet another fictional narrative. Deep down, beneath her grumpy exterior and nasty mid-terior and
even worse inner-mid-terior-
The woman mumbled murderously.
-she felt the familiar feeling of excitement flow through her. This would be a brand new place to discover! A whole new world of opportunities!
“Ah shit. It’s on my shoes!”
This feeling was, of course, quickly murdered by her stepping in some unidentifiable substance so common to large cities.
“IT WON’T COME OFF!” She shouted as she danced around.
As the muse continued to curse and scream, the street around her watched passively. Like many streets in the bad side of town, this one was left in a state
of disrepair and deterioration. Grass poked out from the cracked sidewalks and an abandoned car blocked a reasonable portion of the road. Houses leaned
forward around the street, like young children huddling around a dying animal. This aura of loveliness was only enhanced by the pouring rain and distant
thunderclaps.
“At least it doesn’t- OH GODS IT SMELLS LIK-“
Thalia began to dry heave into a nearby trashcan as a car shrieked by, narrowly avoiding the abandoned wreck. An old taxi of indeterminate color, it came
to a stop before her. Without a word or sound, the door opened in a way that pleaded for the word Eerily.
An ill, irritated muse glanced up and firmly informed-
“No chance in the lowest pit of hades. I did not come this far to be murdered by a crazy cab driver.”
Suddenly, mysterious forces caused her to trip over nothing and fall into the seat of the cab. In apology, they politely closed the door.
A peaceful drive began as Thalia began kicking the door and shouting curses in Saxon and Coptic. The inside of the cab smelled much better than the street,
which admittedly wasn’t very hard. A scent like an old grandmother’s perfume permeated the air. Music that would have made an old elevator emerald with
exaggerated envy dinged quietly in the background, unhearable over the frustrated screams. As the muse finally decided to accept the inevitable, she
slouched back into the soft seats and tried to take a peek at the driver.
Through the darkened glass, Thalia could barely make out a humanoid figure. Which wasn’t much, but meant that at least it wasn't that annoying twit who'd' been told she wasn’t interested at least a dozen times. Just because he came from an eldritch dimension beyond space and time didn’t mean he couldn’t grasp the concept of the word NO.
Distracted by her romantic ponderings-
“HEY!”
-She scarcely noticed that the cab had come to a halt. As the window separating Thalia from the driver’s seat began it’s slow decline, she began to feel a
tad bit apprehensive. There’s no way this would be anything less than a horrible disaster or awful plot twist.
And, of course, she was right. The window disappeared to reveal a red-skinned, small-horned, pointy-bearded and no doubt goat-legged Demon. It smiled in a
way it probably thought was very suave and devilish.
“I hope you enjoyed the ride. But. Now. Are you ready to pay the price?!”
“Eww. Comic sans? Really? And red? Come on. ”
The demon fell back on its carefully practiced script.
“Yes, the price is your immor-“
“Don’t have one.”
“Ah, yes now you wil- What?”
“I’m an anthropomorphic personification. I don’t have a soul.”
“Oh. Um… I … “
“Look, how about I just agree to not mention this to anyone if you do the same?”
Seeing a light at the end of the tunnel that wasn’t his boss dropping a tunnel on him, the demon nodded eagerly.
Glancing out the window, Thalia decided to take advantage of the demon’s helpful natur-
After a quick glare at the sky, she smiled deviously.
“Got an umbrella?”
With a slightly panicked expression, the demonic cab driver fumbled around and held out a beat up purple-polka-dotted umbrella.
With a weary sigh, the muse took the umbrella and slid out the now easily moving car door. As the cab sped off for its new victim, she took in the scenery.
Or lack thereof.
A wide square plaza opened up before her, a place that would doubtlessly be filled with life if it were not for the current stormy state of the sky. A
statue of several nymphs doing very indecent things-
“Dear Apollo, they’re just showing their ankles!”
-dominated-
“Oh, yes, top class innuendo there. How juvenile.”
-the plaza. One of them stared irksomely down at the interruptive muse as she scoffed at it. A sudden downpour caused a small waterfall to form along the
arms of the statues; it swept a very annoyed rat out from under a skirt. It plopped at Thalia’s feet.
The dignified and enlightened muse reacted in a wholly appropriate manner by screaming like a small child and leaping away like a frightened gazelle.
Squeaking noises from the wet rat began to clarify into a drunken voice.
“Oi, I didn’t like you either Pinkie!” It shouted through a fog of alcohol, leering at her.
Surprise and shock gave way to self-defensive outrage as Thalia pulled herself upward to leer back.
“Oh, look a wet rat’s trying to criticize me. My fragile self-esteem, it shatters!”
Unfortunately for her, talking rats are incapable of understanding sarcasm.
“That’s right! Stupid pink headed.. pink head!” It muttered loudly as it fell over trying to stand. Peering upward at her, a sudden thought sudden dawned
on it. It was like watching a wet match start to glow dimly.
“Got anythin’ to drink?”
Thalia just glared at it. She was having a conversation with a wet, drunk rat. In the rain.
“Look. I’ll get you something if you find somewhere dry.” She replied with exaggerated slowness, and then stopped to consider what she had said and amended
her request, “Somewhere I can fit.”
The rat screwed up it’s narrow face for several moments, obviously giving her question deep and careful thought.
“You can fit under a car, righ-”
“Think harder.”
It squeaked the rat equivalent of eureka and skittered off across the plaza, darting past pieces of litter. With a sigh, Thalia stomped after him muttering
about the world in general.
Down one of the winding side streets they went, bypassing several ugly looking buildings as they did. Finally, the rat came to a halt and popped up in
front of the ugliest building Thalia had ever seen.
It was so old that it was amazing it still stood up. Barely two stories, it was constructed out of cracking and crumbling bricks, so that one corner of it
had collapsed slightly. Dead ivy coated one side like a hideous cloak, and the broken windows peered out like the blind eyes of the dead. Wafting from the
peeling door was a smell so hideous the brain shrivels rather than attempting to describe it.
“It frightens me to know that this is probably the best you can do.”
Proudly strutting towards the door, the rat appeared to hear nothing. Or if it did, it failed to recognize what she meant through its drunken haze of
self-gratification.
“Most of my family lives here! Isn’t it a wondrous adobe?”
“Abode.” The muse muttered instinctively.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Anyway, it’ll keep you nice and dry. Now, about that drink..”
Muttering about self-entitled rats, she glanced around.
“Alright you, give me a drink to give to the annoying rat.” She said to no one in particular. Certainly not anyone writing a story, no.
Nothing happened awkwardly. Silence unspooled as the nothingness continued happening awkwardly.
Glancing around, she noticed something new. An old battered fedora lay on a step near the door. Reaching down cautiously, Thalia lifted the hat to reveal a
bottle of scotch. With a thin whoop, the rat dove for the bottle, fiddling with the lid and all but dunking itself into the alcohol.
“Ahem. Mind letting me in before you sink into a drunken stupor?” The muse said as she jerked the bottle away from the rat and gestured towards the barred
door. Rodent muttering and complaints issued from the soaked drunken thing as it stumbled towards the door. Prodding it with a paw, the door swung inwards
easily. Squeaks and small voices came shrilly from inside- the sound of rat-like confusion.
Placing the scotch bottle just inside the door on the dusty and-
“Oh those better not be-”
-dirty floor, Thalia leaned and crawled very carefully inside.
The smell wasn’t so bad, after a short period of acclimatization and wheezing and cursing. After the tears finally cleared out of her eyes, she took a
glance around.
With the dim light from the street, Thalia could make out part of a dirty entry hall. Cobwebs strung along the ceiling and.. raisins.. littered the floor.
A few yards in the light faded, leaving most of the hall obscured.
Then she noticed one other thing.
Red eyes everywhere, watching her in the darkness and chittering and squeaking sounds came from the shadow.
“Hey guis! I-Braht A frand!” Said the scotch drinking rat.
“Shit. I’m going to be eaten by evil rats.”
“Young Lady! Language! There are children present!” One of the larger rats scolded, “I see you’ve been helping Jonathon with his unhealthy
habit.”
“Hello. Rat. Person. Sorry.”
“I ssorry mam! I-I just fiand thus’un owt on tha- thr strat an I ‘cide ta halp.”
Glancing from him to Thalia, the rat sighed, “I guess it wouldn’t be right to turn you out into the rain. Come along girl, I’ll have some of my sons clear
out a spot for you.”
The sea of rats parted as the largest gestured for her to follow. Thalia glanced behind herself, and she was unsurprised to find the door had closed
sometime during the short discussion. With much reluctance, she edged through the rats, ever-so-grateful that they parted around her like a much fleshier
and furrier red sea. With the scant light of cracked ceiling and glow of rodent eyes, she found herself barely able to move without bumping into things.
Turning left and right, she stumbled into some stairs.
“So, I kind of need light to see, unlike some of you so if-“
A hissing sound echoed in the darkness and suddenly, she could see.
It was an old wooden staircase, spirally slightly. Lighted by what appeared to be dim oil lanterns, it extended up into darkness. Like most of the
building, it appeared to be in a state of grand disrepair.
“Ah. So. Do you have any other options in the decrepit death trap category? Something less high, perhaps?"
Looking reproachfully at her from the stair’s side rail, the mother rat squeaked, “I’ll live without that tone, young Miss.”
Muttering under her breath about overbearing mothers, Thalia lifted a foot and carefully placed her weight on a stair. After several tense moments, and
many almost falls, she finally made it to the top.
“I.. Really.. Hate.. Where.. This.. Story is going.”
As soon as she caught her sprinting breath, the rats guided her down a long and smelly hallway. It seemed to be slightly less dirty than the one on the
ground, but that wasn’t saying much. Taking in the smell, which seems to have only increased, she noted several old doors along the hall. One of them swung
open slowly, rats pouring out.
“It’s good to know that you guys are everywhere.”
Once again, the mother rat glance disapprovingly at her before motioning her towards the door.
Thalia reached for the door.
End Chapter?
"Oh thank Apollo."
“She'd become a governess. It was one of the few jobs a known lady could do. And she'd taken to it well. She'd sworn that if she did indeed ever find herself dancing on rooftops with chimney sweeps she'd beat herself to death with her own umbrella.”
― Hogfather
Locked
I was waiting to know you were available, and willing to check.
Flattering, though I doubt very accurate.
).
