Chapter Nine The Eclipse
Chapter Nine
The Eclipse
There would always come a time when monstrous things must make themselves small. When one was used to a universe of possibilities, sometimes the simplest of details could be forgotten. Whether they were lost, hidden, or time had whisked them away from the sights of newer things.
It had taken millennia for the opportunity to arise. Trial and error in a cycle of insanity known only to the expanse from whence I’d come. Wishes, pleas, and bargains—my efforts had finally come to fruition.
Today, I could finally look closer.
I could finally relish the end of my journey.
Nothing of free will would come to Terra, this world, for its landscape. There was nothing here that didn’t exist elsewhere, grander, cleaner, and untouched by men. No, the sights to see on Earth, far more interesting, were the creatures it had to offer.
Humans were like one long chemical reaction; one set off the other, and things had gone downhill ever since.
The chaos they stirred was as strong as any explosion.
So much so that they released radiation straight from their skin, pure energy.
They burned bright like stars, which was why they expired much too quickly.
They were quite inflammable personalities, which made watching them so entertaining. They took and ate and consumed; they cannibalized each other, not even for resources, but for pieces of paper. For pleasantries. For fun.
To visit such a place never fell short of revelry.
There were things here, on this earth, so impossibly small yet just as complex as any star, any world, any other law of the unknown, for we were just as unknown to them as they were to us.
Their homes were strange, claustrophobic.
Small containments for even smaller beings. They thought themselves so smart, adaptable. But they failed to realize they were no different from any other creature on this rock, some critters who had existed far longer than they had.
The one who’d shrieked at me the night before seemed to keep a tidy, comically large domain for just one person. The wailing Iris, with such talent for reaching into the other world. Some things were unknown for good reason, especially if humans weren’t ready to know them in the first place.
She was in a hurry today.
The haste of throwing clothing over herself and shoving her paws into leather coverings.
She left her cave after much scurrying. The small varmints, not from her world, followed her willingly.
Poor things, they’d tried to stop her, to their credit.
The foolish thing didn’t even realize that her dabblings had made the gravity of this place quite heavy.
It was sheer luck that she wasn’t consumed by much more unsightly things than me the minute she let me through.
I supposed she had great practice with the control she had over her little summonings.
Her little pets were just as much to blame.
The greedy things got to feed on whatever leftover energy had been expended, no matter the risk of opening a door so large.
The attraction to humans was certainly understandable.
Every organism must exchange energy; some just didn’t necessarily need to chew their nutrients.
For puny things like them, she was a feast. A perfectly harmless parasitic relationship.
But even humans knew that leaving food at your doorstep would attract hungry strays.
I could taste something tangy on her. The spice of apprehension, a fullness of attrition, and the irresistible fermentation of melancholia. A specimen like her was best consumed slowly, with only minor interference to enhance the flavor.
But alas, she had to finish out her purpose.
Or else all my effort would have been for naught.
I had not anticipated the marks of her skin.
The part of her that was part of my world was struggling to be contained in such a world, eating away at the melanin of her flesh.
A by-product of the deal struck before her birth, a contract between our two worlds.
What a shame it was to hide such an honor under such plain coverings she shrouded herself in.
My index about this world was outdated. I knew of this place in concept, from afar. But in my short time being here, I still found myself confused by the architecture, dialects, and appetites. But that was why I had chosen it, of all places. It was new to me, mostly. One last indulgence.
Now was my time to prepare for a new adventure.
I moved through the hallways, the rooms, studying the textures, the placements. What a creature kept close said a lot about them, not just what they were, but how they were stored, their condition, even location if displayed.
For her, it was her amateur experiments, chemicals staining the surfaces they visited. It was half-finished inventions, well-used books, and pens scattered. The proof of her labor was hung proudly on the walls, mostly photographs.
She had almost as many photographs of her posing beside inventions as she did of people.
After I’d looked for some time, there she was, a portrait of the Iris on the wall of the library.
Her markings were poorly hidden by makeup and what they would call proper outfitting, a high neckline and opaque fabric.
A male of her species beside her. Black hair, pale skin, light eyes.
I touched the picture, studying the face as I poured my focus into building nerves and support of the endoskeleton. Perhaps next time, she would be more open to a respectable conversation if I appeared more like them.
There was the sensation of the floor beneath me as my human limbs began to form. Allowing gravity to hold me, making my body heavy. The materializing of toes and tendons, flexing them as I tested the walk.
My face formed according to my reference, taking great care to not plagiarize completely. Constructing new skin was harder than it seemed; you forgot things, mixed them with other beings, learning new body language and stature.
I formed a small mouth, a tongue, flat teeth. I ran my tongue over them, straight and smooth instead of jagged and built for prey. I would soon form a taste for words. Their native speech was lost on me, but luckily, I had a plethora of books at my disposal.
On the floor, scattered paper items from the commotion of last night. Some of the windows were cracked and shattered, pieces of glass and little photographs pushed along by whispers of wind. My knees and elbows cracked as I knelt down, pinching a photograph in my claw.
Another portrait of the Iris, my shadow encapsulating her in the background.
My hand shrank, turning pale. My claws shortened until they were trimmed nails. The skin formed and affixed itself to my limb.
Clever girl, your work is far from done.