Page 38 of Florescentia

“Don’t clench those angry little fists at me—I’m still willing to help your poor soul.”

“I’m not using a malicious creature like you.”

“You were fine using the others,” he said rather plainly, tilting his head in my direction as if my suggestion was ridiculous.

“They were simple to deal with.”

He laughed with full confidence that I would not hit him again. His figure loomed, the shadows spreading across the floor. They nearly covered the entire room. Vague forms of tendrils, or maybe they were vines, crawled up the walls, creating footholds in every place they could, filling in any cracks and dents.

I was waiting for everything to close in on me, to implode.

“And now your dabbling in things you don’t understand has landed you in a position where if you keep consorting with the world that is not your own, to gain favor you don’t deserve, in a petty exchange for material comforts . . . you will find yourself not only consumed by greed, not only endangering your world, but also leaving your convenient doorways wide open for much nastier entities than I. You are lucky anything would help you, never mind my own offer.”

I studied his face. I knew he was capable of joking and sarcasm. I was looking for it in his expression, in his words. Never had I ever wished to see even the slightest bit of comedy.

He leaned forward, nearly hovering over me. “Do you understand? Have I picked the right words that you people use? Would you like me to rephrase?”

“I understand.”

He smiled. It looked so natural. Just before, he was grasping at what shape to make. Now it was like he’d fully possessed the puppet.

“That makes me very happy,” he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

“So will you make it stop?” I swallowed.

“Make what stop?” That smirk again.

“The misfortune. Will it stop?”

“You mortal ones really are a hopeful crowd, aren’t you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You set this in motion, not me.” He stood straight, even took a step back to turn around.

“Wait!” I grabbed his arm; his skin was freezing. “You have to help me. You’ve given me no options.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he said with a shrug, “but you didn’t seem keen on my offer to help.”

“You just said you wouldn’t consort!” I said through clenched teeth. “How am I supposed to fix this?”

“I said you can harvest from me. I didn’t say be physically involved,” he laughed, raising his palms toward the ceiling in a shrug. “I suppose you should wait until your luck evens out, but who knows what will happen by then.”

“I don’t have time for waiting! I don’t know how much I have left to lose.” I dug my nails into his arm.

“Think about it.” He shrugged his arm away. “You know how to find me.”

His markings began to cover his body, slowly returning him to the darkness.

“Bastard!” I grabbed him again, but my fingers sank into his skin. He basically liquified before my eyes.

His form turned black, his entire body turning into the molten liquid as before, regaining his claws and nightmarish features before the blackness retreated into the hallway, then evaporated completely.

By now it was night, the crescent moon shone high in the window in the gable, and I was left with the one last miracle option I had so desperately begged for, yet I was still unable to accept it.

Chapter Eleven

The Nova