Alt Mythos Archives

October 9, 2006

Stacy: Sucker

“Over here...”

I hesitated. Talking to ratty strangers on the street was not very high on my List of Smart Things. Still, for all his ragged appearance, he was well-built, had a look of ex-nobility. His accent was… strange. I moved a bit closer.

“Sir, would you like to purchase a treasure of lost Mycenae?” In his hand was a largish marble, a beautiful specimen, gold-flecked. Mesmerized I handed him my wallet, uncaring as he disappeared. The marble was strangely warm to the touch, pulling, calling...

I didn’t hear the three who appeared behind me until it was too late.

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October 16, 2006

Stacy: Don't Drink the Water

“Order! This meeting will come to order!” The sheriff banged a makeshift gavel (his prized pearl-handled .357 magnum) on the podium, and the crowd instinctively ducked. He scowled.

“Now quit it, I ain’t gonna shoot y’all. Not YET, leastaways.” The townsfolk shifted uncomfortably, and muttered to each other. The sheriff glared harder at them.

“What’s that you’re saying there? Speak up!” They quieted, and watched him warily. He hitched up his belt and tried again.

“Now, I want to know whicha you ate Farmer Johnson’s sheep…” he began, but was interrupted by hissing voices.


“Goddammit,” he muttered. “Not again.”

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November 3, 2006

Stacy: Kerowacky

The road is my woman, my mother, my blood. She fucks me, nurtures me, powers me. She is neverending, going forever forward, backward, sideways, in and out. Even up and down. We drive all night, all day, and forever. The sky shifts in colors, blue pink purple, red green yellow. And sometimes orange. The wind is a razor, a feather, a sneeze. The towns and cities are a blur, a magnet reversed, the anti-flypaper. Driving, riding, passing time, smokes and bullshit. Car, truck, bus, doesn’t matter, we can’t stop moving. Never stop moving.

Unless, like, we run out of acid.

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December 5, 2006

Stacy: Time Passages

Dionysus was tired. Thousands of years and the mortals were still around,. He’d bet Apollo a fiver they wouldn’t last past Vesuvius. Trust Hephaestus to fuck that one up.

Hollywood was the only thing that made life bearable these days: hot young starlets worshipping nightly at the altar of the grape. Their nubile bodies gyrating as they unwittingly whipped up power in his name. On a good night he could feel the weight of centuries dropping away, could almost remember what it was to truly run wild in the night.

“Welcome to the Betty Ford Clinic, Mr. Williams.”

Fucking rehab.

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December 7, 2006

Stacy: Nokomis Redux

When she was born, flowers bloomed everywhere, irrespective of season, climate and time of day.

When she was ten, a boy broke her heart and made her cry. The skies opened and rained for days.

When she was twenty, she made love for the first time. New volcanos appeared along the Pacific Rim.

When she was thirty, she truly knew what it was to love. The earth’s temperature rose two degrees, causing worldwide flooding.

When she was forty, she bore her only child. The geologists puzzled for decades over the earthquakes that followed.

When she dies, so shall we all.

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December 28, 2006

Stacy: The Huntress

He blinked in surprise as an arrow buried itself in the wall next to his head. He dropped the body of the girl, and ducked down. Morons shooting bows on campus. Great.

The girl stood up, head swaying atop her broken neck. He turned at the noise and felt his mind come loose. She rested her dead gaze on him, pointed silently. A shaft of moonlight illuminated them and an instant later an arrow embedded itself in his neck. He died trying to scream.

In the center of the quad, the goddess reslung her bow and was still once more.

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January 15, 2007

Stacy: Illuminated

They came to us in the Tyme of Twylyght. Fyrst they drewe Picktures, cunning images on parchemente. Twould suspende from Wyres, they sayed, each anchored to the summite of a hygh Mountain.

The King was enraptured as a chylde, and gifted them with Gold and Sylver. They Travelled to the West with many men and Horses. The Womeyn wept with fear.

The men clymbed the Mountains, tho some did dye. The Wyres were at last in place, and the Orbe lifted up on the backs of Giantes. A great Magick was formed and worked. And Lo! There Was The Sun.

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January 23, 2007

Stacy: It's All in the Fine Print

I gave the genie my best eat-shit glare. He smiled back blandly.

Two wishes wasted thanks to this smug bastard. Think, dammit. You’re smarter than this jumped-up lamp boy.

The genie whistled tunelessly and inspected his fingernails. I ignored him, thinking hard.

A perfectly fool-proof wish… something that’ll make you happy and fuck over this double-talking used flying rug salesman at the same time…

The genie conjured an armchair and sat down, sighing dramatically.

Ah, got it.

“I wish your ass would dispense sterile gold coins, one every twelve seconds, into this bowl, for the next 25 years.”

clink “OW!”

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February 9, 2007

Stacy: Leanan Sídhe

I knelt in the clearing, skyclad and shivering in the winter dawn, emptying my mind in preparation for the rite. One by one I shut out the distractions…

… hate working in an office…
…wish Steven would grow up…
…want to have a child…

…until I no longer felt the scratch of pine needles or the chill air on my skin.

A breath of heat stole over me, bringing gooseflesh. My mind was suddenly flooded with images of shining skin, silken hair…

“Go away, Gwydion.”

The stag at the edge of the clearing snorted and leapt away into the underbrush.

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March 5, 2007

Stacy: Just Add Water

The water was foul-tasting, choked as it was with the duckweed, and the ice-like shock of it startled her to sharpness. She gulped a great breath before going under, and fought the bonds twisted around ankle and hand, struggling to loosen the knots before they became water gorged. Then she shrugged the rough gunny sack down and kicked it free.

Silently she rose from the shallows of the millpond. Then spoke she harshly unto the gathered and terrified townsfolk.

“Look ye for a witch? Then ye shall have one.”

Many voices raised in terror that day. Then spoke no more.

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