Stripple was delighted with the new DNA sample in his possession. He had been warned not to enter the cavern. Waiting to make sure the winged one did not return, he then turned and headed into the surrounding forest. Tramping for several hours, he came to a grove of tall ancient Kauri trees. He pulled out a stone carved with lines and crosses. He studied it for a moment, and then satisfied with his destination, slunk lower to the ground. His eyes turned to black lizard slits, his legs shrunk to those of a lizard. His tongue flicked out and wet his eyeballs. He sat still as rock only his eyes rotating about, scouring his surroundings for anything that moved. The forest was silent.
Confident he was alone, he assumed semi human form. A grimace creasing his face. He grabbed his backpack pulling out a small device, which he rapidly put together. He attached it to the outside of the tree. A small sharp circular blade sprung into action circling around and around, cutting deep into the trunk of the ancient one.
The Tree gasped, then a low keening wail emitted from its centre. The keen of pain grew louder and louder as the blade cut deeper. Stripple pulled out his earphones and placed them on his head, smiling with smug satisfaction as the trees pain intensified.
The sound was like the whistle of the wind through a cold dark night, yet deeper and filled with sorrow. Its tone cutting directly into the heart, but there was no heart present here, except the tree’s.
The surrounding Trees felt her pain and cried out to the heavens. The keening arced higher and higher into a crescendo. Air picked up leaves, swirling faster and faster inside the grove. Finally a shuddering rumble of pain shook the earth. The ancient one fell to the earth and threshed about until a green wisp containing its essence escaped the ruined wood and flew upwards.
Where the stump stood, a large black spiral mist appeared, swirling and expanding bigger and bigger spreading a black silent darkness over the grove. Stripple stepped forward eager to meet his Master again. The mist shaped into large tendrils, wrapped round him like a giant octopus devouring him into its centre.
Stripple spun through darkness. It whispered to him of powers he could have. Promising him anything he wanted. It would give him everything, it whispered, when that wasn’t enough, it would give him more. He was superior, destined for greatness. It egged him on. He eagerly absorbed every word as they caressed his ego. He quivered with anticipation.
The blackness enveloped him and returned with him to its source. Deep down below the caverns and tunnels. Where it was chillingly cold. Inky Black. Stripple shivered with delight, waiting for him. His master was not yet visible. The Dark one was too evasive for that, his form always changing, never staying still, his dark mind warping and twisting evading those who sought to stop him. Stripple sniffed the air and catching the scent of his master, moved hungrily into the blackness.
A ball of furious pain hurled through the dark, throwing Stripple backwards. He crouched on the ground, on all fours whimpering.
“Master, it is me your servant. I have done your bidding. I followed the path of the Taniwha and am here.” Stripple pulled himself up, eyes cast down.
“I did not tell you to stand. DID I LIZARD?”
A second ball of pain flew and knocked Stripple back to all fours. He lay flat on his stomach, prostrated upon ground. A black hand materialised pushing his face into the dirt.
“I DID NOT TELL YOU TO SPEAK. “ A guttural roar sounded from the darkness. “I have planned too long for this. Don’t ruin it with your insolence. Can I trust you? I AM YOUR MASTER.”
“Yes, Great one.” Stripple replied face still in the earth.
“I have made the holes and rips bigger. The worlds are shaking. Soon I will reach out and grab the balance of Power.”
Out from the black mist the black hand materialised. Long black hooked dirty fingernails dug into the flesh at the back of Stripples arms and tore down their length. Stripple did not move. Black eyes in a colourless mask hovered over him. A long black tongue unfurled out from thin black lips and drank the blood in that oozed out of the wound.
“I will not be trapped here.” The dark voice spat the words out between yellowed sharp teeth. “They think they can keep me here, deep within the depths of the Universe. They are wrong. You will get me what I need. My workers have been busy creating the hole for you to enter. DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME LIZARD.” The Dark one shrieked. Stripple rose into the air suspended, choking, eyes bulging.
“Or I will eat you alive, one shredded bloody piece at a time.”
A hole appeared, a whirling swirling black tornado, Stripple was hurled into the midst of it carrying him away.
YOU ARE READING
HOLES IN THE FABRIC: Bk 1 The Weaver Prophecy
FantasyThe time for the Weaver Prophecy to occur is at hand. The Ancient powers have been lying in wait for the Weaver to come and awaken them. The world of the supernatural and the everyday become entwined as the boundaries become shakey. Moana plunges i...
