A raunchy tale of a one-night stand met with the impending doom of the end of the world. Lyra is faced with the promise of eternity to a man she's just met or the darker promise of joining the rest of humanity as the palace of Hell rises to the eart...
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Francesca saw the heatwave in the night air jumping in jittery movements. In her want for fantasy and adventure, she mentally described it as: like catching out the thin fabric between two worlds close to collapsing. The flittering of invisible curtains that threatened to expose a whole new and vibrant land far more interesting than her life. Where a hot supernatural woman was waiting for her in pearlescent armour and a crown fit for a powerful queen.
Francesca was wearing little to nothing and still felt hot. While she acknowledged the cool breeze was long gone, she blew it off as a hallucination from the suspicious-looking gummies she nicked from the buffet.
Her long legs dangled off the balcony edge over the party of twenty crashing into the pool. Water that was starting to bubble...
'Pfft. Rich people and their giant-arse Jacuzzis.' She looked around her for Katie, but she had lost both her friends much earlier in the night—both to the unprejudiced jaws of sexual activity. She was proud of her little harlots. Especially of me, her dear Lyra who she had worried about since the breakup and was about to worry that much more.
There was a scream of pain, and everyone jumped out of the pool as the water sizzled and popped. Francesca gripped the balcony's rail and leaned forward to see that everyone had leapt out for their lives. Some coming out red and raw. One unlucky man didn't make it and was cooking in this cannibal soup.
'Whaaaaat?' she slurred. It was all she could muster and her body was unwittingly infusing dread by the second.
This was a little harder to dismiss as a hallucination, and when the road split open eating up any cars and people in its wake, dark dots falling in vivid amber light oozing steam, Francesca could no longer ignore the tension building in her skull.
Volcanic rock surfaced and lava spat from the cracks that spread like roots of a tree reaching to strangle and swallow. Exposing the veins of the planet's body, it was horrible, it was beautiful, and Francesca was too bloody high to have a reasonable reaction to it.
'Ooooh nooo,' Francesca said rolling herself back onto the balcony, shaky from the drugs in her system. 'Noot good.'
Francesca stumbled downstairs to the party still lively and going on without a care. She crashed into a brick wall only to find the brick wall had a deep annoying voice and a nasty face attached.
'I don't know what she ever saw in you,' she said to Zan. Wiggled her pointer finger so close to his nose she nearly picked it. 'You're so ugly.'
He cocked his head to the side, looking ready to crush someone but simmered down to bite out. 'Where is she?'
'She's loong goone pinhead. Realised she was too good for your saggy arse.' Francesca prodded at her own chin. 'There was something important I needed to tell everyone...'
Zan ignored her ramblings and shook her by her shoulders. 'Where did Lyra go?'
'With Mr Hottie... Hot. Something hot. Oh, I just remembered! 'Scuse me.' Francesca pushed Zan's face away and rotated a few other dancers on the floor to get to the DJ booth. She pulled out some necessary plugs to halt the music and ripped the mic from the DJ's hand.
