Wednesday, October 12, 2016


Mystery night #2



                Q. Kiefer watched as a pin light sized hole appeared in the ceiling a mile above the cave floor. They must be bringing another one in he thought to himself.

                He had been down here 500,000 earth years. That means he had spent half of his life on this God forsaken planet, forced down in this damp, warm cave to live amongst the other non-humans. They had a never-ending supply of silver glitter and green slime running down the walls. The non-humans very own kryptonite to discourage any attempts at escaping.

                He thought about it once after he had studied the vibrating of the walls and the shifting of the floors for ½ a million years. He had made it two floor over when he found a secret door. But, that time, when he went to grasp the door knob it was covered in bloody fingerprints. He rushed through the door anyway. He made it into a room of mirrors. Floor to ceiling. All he could see was his own reflection. The doorway disappeared and all he could do was stare at himself. That’s when he felt the ground quaking and a shimmering came over the mirrors as the glass broke and seemed to dissipate. Once the mirror fragments were all gone, he found himself standing on the cave floor, staring up at the pin hole of light.

                He was never the same. He couldn’t explain it, but he was shaken.

                Now, when he stared up at the ceiling, he could only imagine what happened when he found the mirror room.

                “What’s your problem, whisker biscuit?” Said Frederick Lawson.

                Frederick was a new human patrolee with a profound love of fruitcake. Kiefer hated him. If it wasn’t for the kryptonite he would show him a thing or two.”

                “They burnt another one at the stake for trying to escape,” said Frederick. “You wouldn’t do that would you Q?” He asked with unspoken knowledge of the one time he did try to escape.

                Kiefer could her the other patrolee’s chanting. “Tis a witch, Burn the witch.”

                Kiefer turned to Frederick. “You know we’re not witches, Right?”

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