Memoirs of a RAFian

[redtailedsaffa]

I've got your back(up).

I love the whole "bad is good" thing you've got with Demos. The son of Satan's perspective is indeed interesting.

[Cloak]

Too right, Saffa.

Well, don't expect a chapter until later tonight, after work.

[Underseen]

You're being more consistent on posting than I thought.

[Cloak]

Right, Underseen. Okay, guys -- just a warning -- I'm tired so chances are there's gonna be a high instance of spelling and/or grammar errors in this chapter.

CHAPTER SIX:
A Monstrous Monologue

It turned out that the true thief was the escaped monstrocity. It had a potato-like body covered in orange fur and orange hair with a leathery face and a wide, flappy mouth. He had two beady, brown eyes. It possessed one frail-looking, pencil-thin arm with equally-thin, claw-tipped fingers and one leg with claw-tipped toes of equal thickness of the arm (it was very odd that such a spindly leg could support the creature's weight). Then a third appendage that doubled as an arm and a leg.

"Calm yourselves, my brethren," said the creature to the orb-like capsule containing Demos's atrocious monstrosities. His voice was similar to that of V. V. Argost. "You'll all be free soon. But, alas, my dear brothers and sisters, I must keep you in your present state. I need to use you fellows for bait. Forgive me, but getting revenge on Master Demosie," -- he said it with such vehemence and bitterness the very air itself seemed to crackle with it -- "revenge for making me so . . . so . . . ugly."

Apparently, this creature had a weakness for theatrics and the dramatic with a certain eclectic flair. He continued to posture and rant in this dank alleyway-like sewer, setting the device down. He really needed a cape to wave around dramatically, but he was essentially as naked as an Andalite.

"And I've the perfect plan, I believe," the creature said. To the casual viewer, it would appear that this creature was unaware that his "siblings" were unable to hear or communicate. None of them had the intelligence higher than a particularly stupid dog and were completely insentient. "All I need is the lure, the bait . . ."

Then he sat and thought about the matter, puzzling until his puzzler was sore. "Somehow, some way, I must let Master Demosie know that it was I who did it. And where to come. And where to lay the bait. This'll take some time to setup, I think, but it has to be the perfect vengence."

He snapped his fingers, making a "clack" sound instead of the normal sound.

"That would be it." the creature smirked, revealing teeth that were each like the backside of a black Numel with moldy "points". "The perfect plan -- all that is left to do is to implement it. But I must be cautious . . . can't afford any mistakes, any missteps, any errors -- it must be perfect. I won't permit anything to taint --"

Apparently, this creature, whatever he was, loved the sound of his own voice or fancied himself an A-list villain. One would have to wonder if this creature didn't actually escape but was instrumented by Demos to appear so . . . simply because of this seemingly inability to shut up, or tell when others want you to shut up.

Talk about a monstrocity.

[redtailedsaffa]

Well. That escalated quickly.

[Cloak]

Now it'll plateau a bit. Thid chapter may be short.

CHAPTER SEVEN:
The Letter

The creature had pondered over how to do this appropriately and fittingly. In the end, he broke into a stationary store by apparently compressing his ribs like a rat to slither under the door. He deftly destroyed the security cameras, and he looked at the stationary. In the end, he settled for a floral print one.

He tore the package open, took only one, replaced it as if he hadn't taken it at all (though it was still obvious that he had). He took a pen and wrote with spiky lettering and blood-red ink. Then he folded it twice, placed in a scarlet envelope. Then it slithered out of the shop.

Come morning, the shopkeeps would wonder what happened, and what took out their cameras. They were having a "Paranoia Files"-type show come out to investigate.

***

Demos was returning to his thread. He was moping. He wanted his babies back -- but hadn't so much as a clue to where they could be. What could he possibly do?

When he entered his thread -- which was decorated in crimsons, scarlets, and shades of black -- he didn't immediately recognize that there was a letter on his wrought iron bed (which looked more like a torture device, frankily) that wasn't there earlier.

Within a moment later, he saw it and snatched it up. He blithely and mindlessly opened the letter, and read it:

"Who?
What?
When?
Where?
Who, what, when, where, and why?
I delight in
What you intend to find
This time.
Find another way to duck and hide
From this Island
Of Screams."

This incoherent mess seemed to mean something to the demon, because he dashed from the thread, the door slamming of its own accord and the letter fluttering down right outside the thread.

[redtailedsaffa]

The Island of Screams. Delightful.

[Cloak]

Right. To Demos, anyway.

I would post the chapter -- but I don't have my notes with me at the moment. So, it'll have to wait until after work tonight.  Sorry 'bout that.

[Shenmue654]

X) Awesome. I like the creepy little demon scientist and his monstrosity army. Meanwhile Mr. Potatohead demon is concocting some strange plan for revenge that we know absolutely nothing about. ;}

I'll be following this to see where things go. <.< >.> Ilikedemons. <.< >.>

[redtailedsaffa]

What makes it even better is that as a RAFian, Demos is actually one of the good guys... yet not.

Meanwhile Mr. Potatohead demon is concocting some strange plan for revenge that we know absolutely nothing about. ;}

Reminds me of a Doctor Who line to the Sontarans. "I'm the clever one, you're the potato one!"

[Cloak]

True, Demos is very much in the same boat as Mundungus Fletcher, only not a coward. Being a demon, and all.

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Tracking . . . Tracking . . .

Cloak had come to Demos's thread, fearing that he may be planning something stupid and reckless. He had met Underseen and Ash on the way, and they tagged along. But Cloak was startled to Earthsight that Demos's thread was empty.

"He's gone!" the Elements Master declared.

"Where would he go?" Ash asked.

"I have no idea where," Cloak said, "but I know what he would be after."

Ash seemed to understand what the Realm Walker was getting at. "But why would he think the thief would give it up? Give it up at all?"

Underseen spotted something on the ground.

"Demos isn't thinking clearly." Cloak said, urgency in his voice. "He's being rash."

Underseen read the letter that Demos left behind so hastily. "Uh, guys?"

"What d'you have, Underseen?" Ash asked.

"I . . . dunno. I really can't make sense of it. Sumthin' about an island of screams."

"Oh, delightful." Ash said.

"Lemme see that," Cloak said. He read the same near-incomprehensible gibberish as Underseen had. Cloak sniffed.

"Mean anything to you?" Underseen asked.

"Not a word," Cloak said, discarding the letter. He sniffed again, and smelled the fading scent of brimstone and smoldering silk. "But I've got his scent. This way."

***

Demos was deftly making his way through wild country. He was unconcerned with the rips and tears that he was putting into his fine silk suit. Rather uncharacteristic of the demon. But he was obsessively seeking out his "children", refusing to see the inherent maliciousness and instinctive hostility within them.

He didn't care, but he suspected who was behind this -- he was kind of regretting giving it opposible thumbs.

[Underseen]

Guess we have to find the Island of Screams.

[Cloak]

It's not as difficult as you think. Once you have a lead . . .

Anyway, I apologize if any errors appear in this chapter. I am quite tired.

CHAPTER NINE:
Obstacles and Obsessions

"Well, that wasn't too hard," Ash said, as the trio trudged through the thick foliage of the untamed wilds of the Island of Screams.

"Would've been harder," Cloak interjected, "had Demos's trail hadn't been so fresh."

"There's a clearing up ahead." Ash said.

"What's that there?" Underseen pointed.

"It looks like . . . like the . . ." Ash hesitated. She needn't finish. It bore a superficial resemblance to Richard's Horn.

"This may be a stupid question," Underseen said, "but how do we get pass this? I don't see any other way around."

"There's water in the horn," Ash said, as the trio investigated the site. "Perhaps we drink from it?"

Cloak immediately did not like it. He was very particular to the water he drank.

But they couldn't dally long. They couldn't lose the trail.

Ash spluttered, as she tried to empty it in one gulp. It was impossible to do.

"Of course," Cloak said shrewdly. "The horn is linked to all the seas in the world. It is impossible to drain it."

Suddenly, a path was opened when the shapeshifter dropped the horn. The water flooded and managed to dissolve a pathway.

"Well," Underseen said, "that was convenient."

"Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth,' Ash replied.

"You know," Cloak said, as the three took the path, "that is a strange phrase, if you really pick it apart."

***

Meanwhile, Demos was continuing in his obsessive quest. He single-mindedly pursued his goal, easily dodging the various traps and things.

"I will have you back," he muttered, clearly unaware that he was speaking aloud. "My precious little poopsies."

He was carefully making his way to the center of the island, maybe a smidgen west.

***

Then the trio was still active in their search for Demos. But they eventually come across an elderly woman, who blocked their path. It was clear that they would have to defeat her to pass.

Cloak took a fighting stance, as did his fellows, but he eventually saw the true futility of such a battle.

"Save your energy," Cloak told the two. "She cannot be defeated."

"She's an old woman!" Underseen protested.

Cloak shook his head, "No . . . no, she's Old Age."

Old Age heard this, smiled, and allowed them to pass.

[redtailedsaffa]

This is a VERY interesting island. Love the whole mythology vibe.

[Cloak]

Now you know what I think about when I'm working (when I'm doing things like detrashing or sweeping).

Anyway, what you guys come to this thread for. A chapter.

CHAPTER TEN:
A Conflict of Interests

Demos was still heading, almost mindlessly, to the center of the island. He still muttered about saving his "little poopsies", his "beloved darlings". He cared not for the tattered rags that had once been a luxurious silk suit. He was cautiously approaching the mouth of a cave that looked disturbingly like an actual mouth of a monster.

This continued, until a voice broke him out this trance-like revelry. "There you are!"

Demos was not pleased to see the trio, who trampled the underbrush to reach him. His resolve had not been broken. He knew his babies were close by. He could practically feel them. He still abjectly refused to believe the monstrocities were the horrors that they were.

"What do you want?" he said surlily.

"There's no need need for such a tone," Ash said admonishingly.

"Save your scoldings, Ash!" Demos spat like an angry cobra. "I am not a child. Something has been wrenched from me, something I want returned."

"Demos," Cloak said, unintentionally taking on the tone he would use to scold Shadow when she misbehaved, "if you don't want to be treated as such then don't as rashly as a child."

"Don't lecture me, Realm Walker!" Demos snapped. "Are all Realm Walkers as meddlesome as you?! I will not be denied what's mine!"

Cloak narrowed his eyes, but knew it was only Demos emotions speaking -- his desperation, his determination, his fear of the desire being dashed.

But, before Cloak, Ash, or Underseen could speak, many deminuative creature fell from the trees. They were macrocephalic humanoid in shape, skeletally thin with sharp, bony fingers and toes with heel spur claws. Their eyes were large and almond-shaped, while their skin looked like tree bark that hung loosely from their frame. Their faces . . . well, let's just say they were ugly enough to turn Medusa to stone.

"Uh, excuse me," Cloak said, addressing Demos. Then he balanced on the ball of his left foot, touched his right heel to his left knee, and slammed his fists together. A wall of air formed around the quartet, and then expanded outward, sending the creatures tumbling backward.

Then Cloak stood, as if nothing had happened, and continued as if he had just had to sneeze.

"Sorry, 'bout that," Cloak said, changing tack, "Demos, you cannot be serious. You surely see the danger of --"

Cloak saw the creatures starting to get to there feet and resume their attack.

"Oh, no," Cloak said, conversationally, addressing the creatures, generating an air slash that bowled them over again. "Don't get up."

"Cloak! Demos is heading into the cave!"

"Well, let's follow him," Cloak said.