Clear, feathery tendrils reached down inside the Entity’s mind, searching, rummaging, grasping around its contents, slipping through crevices, rounding corners, tilting on edges, and poking through holes. The tendrils pushed and prodded, pulled and shoved against each other, overlapping, bumping into each other, looping through and around and over other tendrils. The Entity rumbled out a low sigh at the scurrying and scratching movements in their mind, the sigh morphing into a tired yawn. The Entity stretched out their long limbs on the chair.
The Entity started to count backwards. Number. Number less than the first one. Another number even lesser than the previous number. The Entity sighed some more, resting their chin on one hand while fiddling with a ball with the other.
The ball was unlike any other the Entity has witnessed. It was smooth. Almost too smooth. The Entity was immediately suspicious.
Nimble fingers danced across the surface of the ball. The Entity narrowed their eyes on its indescribable color and hue. Not too blue.
The Entity wanted to throw it to see what it could do.
The Entity pinched it instead.
The ball screamed a high-pitched scream and scrambled out of the Entity’s fingers, leaving a not-too-blue liquid dripping down their forearm.
The scratching and rustling and scurrying stopped inside the Entity’s head. The Entity listened.
The Entity stilled as the feathery tendrils started leaping out of their head and onto the floor. The Entity didn’t move an inch until the last tendril tumbled down and slithered out of sight.
The Entity took a deep breath, then cringed at the high-pitched shrieks.
|Originally written: January 12, 2022
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Choice Cuts
Short StorySweetest Decay, Series 1 A collection of my short stories I first published in my writing blog, Sweet Decay.
