《REAL》Colors of Real — 14
Advertisement
“Hold, please…” croaked Madge, not glancing up from a book that looked way too small in her hands. Her forelimbs were folded in an impressive display, which brought her white-caked face that much farther out into what was supposed to be the safe, neutral space of her cramped vestibule.
Jeffrey artfully sauntered backwards and around, bumping the wall a couple times. He strained his nearest ear to pick up any hints of sound emanating from beyond the gigantic black door he’d soon have to venture through. But he heard nothing. Only Madge breathing . . . a sound like a ticked-off, hissing cat choosing to exit a phone call early by mouthing static noises and claiming to be passing through a tunnel.
“What is it today?” Madge grimaced. “More dilly-dally drawings?”
“Uh, yeah,” sighed Jeffrey, unwilling to stomach the rigmarole of circling via words what had occurred in Hensler’s class.
“Tsk, tsk,” tsked Madge, unraveling her wrists some to make the traditional finger-rub shame-on-you gesture.
Jeffrey didn’t reply. Rather, he shifted his weight from side to side, attempting again to pick up on any mental signals Gel might be sending, but to no avail. It was as if the dried-lava-mountain door before him served to block transmission of their ability. Or, maybe their power just lacked a built-in messaging feature. He guessed it to be the latter, though she sure seemed able to read his thoughts at times.
After what felt like several eternities stacked on the backs of racing tortoises, the massive door cracked open. Jeffrey’s eyes met Gel’s as she strode out to where he stood. A flash of complex impulses shimmied in waves through his face and chest. He felt relieved, of course, to see she hadn’t been banished or made to vanish. He was also baffled to notice an unmistakable glint of confusing pain that muffled her features. She didn’t quite seem herself in any case. He wondered why her hair and clothes, usually kept so perfectly neat and tidy as to be unnoticeable, looked a little disheveled.
Advertisement
In that moment, he longed to turn and glide with her away from Finnel’s big door and the preying eyes of Madge. Nothing would have felt more pleasant than to simply leave, and find a quiet place, and just talk for as long as they might want to without getting cut short by robot-bird-shriek bells, whining lizard-faced Peck, brooding Colin looming, or anything else.
But in an instant, Gel’s face changed. Her new expression made more sense. Now her eyes told Jeffrey something close enough to: I failed. It’s up to you. Don’t let him get to you. Don’t tell him anything, no matter what he says. Don’t fall for his tricks. We have to find the hidden doorway! We must complete our mission! The greater good depends on it! It’s all up to you!
Nodding, he passed by her, and pushed through the huge black entrance into much, much more blackness.
This time, Finnel wasn’t facing away so as to spin in his chair and shock Jeffrey like a sprung jack-in-the-box on entry. Instead, the doctor stood by the door (you’d technically have to call it standing, since two limbs did touch the ground).
Finnel’s suit today was a plaid arrangement of greys just slightly more matted and less silvery than his gloopy crop of hair. He held that same turn-of-a-century pipe between two withered fingers, the smoke trails billowing up and connecting to tie together clusters of fading clouds.
The thick smell of centuries of both smoke and Finnel overpowered Jeffrey’s lungs. He choked back a cough, fighting to cut short its sound as if within earshot of a violent mob once news had spread of some new airborne pandemic.
“Been seeing a lot lately, eh boy?” Finnel managed, the words a geyser gushing forth sooner than predicted before easing back to steady rounds of shaky rumbling.
Jeffrey said nothing. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness, searching every way he could think to for hints of secret passageways or clues.
“Cat’s got your tongue?” the doctor suggested, the phrase surfing waves of respiratory foam.
Advertisement
Jeffrey kept quiet, and continued to let his awareness carefully scan the deep, blank blackness of the walls. But he kept coming back to only nothing.
It was strange now for there to be no more to see beneath or surrounding a certain place. Attempting to use his ability here felt like trying to fly by flapping freshly clipped, defeathered wings.
He brought his attention to the simple skinny bookcase, its volumes most likely predating moveable type. Still, he found nothing particularly special about the old books to take notice of.
“Boy, let me show you what you’re looking for,” Finnel grumbled in a tone so low yet entirely audible . . . unprecedented in its human-ness.
The sound and words wrenched Jeffrey’s focus back from its failed attempts at deeper insight. “What do you mean?” he asked, succumbing at last to the conversation.
“My secret,” responded Finnel, rasping much less than usual. “Let me show you the hidden place that no one but me has seen in many, many years.”
The doctor went on to do something which would probably require whole teams of researchers (richly funded, and working around the clock) to eventually decipher and confirm as laughter. The typical unsyncopated hacks and coughs sped up, with maybe a tad more voice included in the mix. Shoulders heaved as much as a complete bend in upper back would allow. Teeth were shown, which mostly matched the suit and hair in color.
Jeffrey wondered if he might be greeted by Hunch again soon, as Finnel’s accomplishment of “laughter” drew attention to the literal hunch in position high atop the doctor’s frame.
It was funny comparing Finnel’s hunch with Hunch, since both were supposedly the same thing. Or, if the lore could be trusted, one had once been the other.
Finnel travelled gradually past Jeffrey and around the huge tri-sectioned desk. But instead of sitting as Jeffrey expected, the doctor pulled open a thin drawer that lined the underside of the desk’s largest, central portion.
Reaching in like a bird of prey might clasp at something small and frightened with its talons, Finnel clutched and produced forth a necklace made from stunningly bright, blue-and-yellow checkered gemstones.
Jeffrey almost blinked.
Even though the amazing glow might have been highlighted by the room’s empty blackness, the necklace really did seem to somehow cast forth its own light.
As he watched the doctor raise the beaming necklace high up overhead, about a third of the way to the hunch’s peak summit, Jeffrey felt as if he might be about to witness literal magic of epic fairytale proportions take place. He half-expected Finnel to cough-chant some ancient, forbidden spell, causing dusky purplish shadow beings to ascend and circle the two before a final unveiling of evil plans amidst a sudden indoor thunderstorm.
But instead of any kind of climactic build, the doctor merely muttered, “...k ...ain, ...y,” the letters and syllables interspersed with specific sorts of wheezing sputters that might, in normal humans, signify too much exertion.
“What?”
“...ook ...n, ...y.”
“Um, I’m still not…”
“Look again, boy,” Finnel fumed.
Jeffrey realized that while the necklace was held at what, for the doctor, would indeed be directly upwards, it kept about parallel to the floor. He focused in the direction the gems were pointed, their impossible light now illuminating the inconceivably black wall immediately behind the middle of Finnel’s desk. And it was oddly not surprising at all to notice a portion of the wall had become empty space, its darkness having not really changed much in appearance.
“How…?” But Jeffrey’s mouth felt glued shut.
“Technology,” answered the doctor, a look of pride interfering with much of the lower half of his face as he set the necklace down on the desk, raised his dark, thin pipe back to dark, thin lips, and inhaled so much more efficiently than whenever drags of smoke were not at stake. “Follow me,” Finnel ordered.
Advertisement
The Unnoticed Dungeon
A newly formed dungeon core awakes with no memory of who or what he was. In fact, he just found out that he died. He has no idea or when or how he came to pass, and now finds himself being forced to start all over as a dungeon core. Worse yet, he isn't even your average run of the mill dungeon. No, the Overseers, whoever they are, have designated him to be an experimental core. This means he doesn't have to play by all the rules, the bad news is that if the core oversteps his boundaries as a dungeon core too far he's more than dead; he's erased. Now he has to struggle to figure out what kind of dungeon he wants to be, all the while very aware that he can't play it safe. The overseers don't want safe, they want lines redrawn and limits reset. The question is, can he do it and survive? He asks, because he overstepped before he even made it to his new world.
8 311I Am The GUIDE
Reece is a young boy who has everything. He would be your typical spoiled brat, but with severe laziness and is very coward. However, on one unfortunate night, he was kidnapped that unfortunately leads to his death. Believing he was dead, he unexpectedly woke up in the abyss and met a long white-haired man watching him from afar. Reece confirmed he was dead at that moment and he was prepared to accept reality. However, an unexpected question was thrown to the young Reece. “Do you want to go on an adventure? You will become a guide and will travel to multiple dimensions and guide those who have potential to the right path.” The word 'travel' triggered Reece's anxiety. He does not even know how to clothe himself. Now he, as a spirit, will have to travel and become a tour guide? “I’d rather rest in peace!” For someone who idles his whole life, traveling is their greatest anxiety. Will Reece be able to perform his duty as THE GUIDE? *** PS: This was first uploaded in Webnovel.com under the same username. Credits to the owner of the photo used in the cover: "Pink flower" by @Doug88888 is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
8 127The Strongest in the World
Nephew of the Emperor, the Firstborn Son of Terror's Mother, the next in line for the throne of the Jabarian Empire, victorious general, unbeatable warrior.. Gottfried Jabara has all that one could want in life despite being barely a man's age... everything that is... except a choice about what to do with his life. Iris Vansi Valoisin is a slave. The daughter of a once noble house which committed treason against the Jabarian Empire. And yet deprived of all choice, she has her cunning and her iron will.Conspiracy, treason, and terror in the heart of the Empire clash against desire, family, and destiny which will answer the question, 'What does it mean to be 'The Strongest in the World?'
8 237Nekana, One in Billions, Lost.
Nekana is a fairly normal girl. She'd stray occasionally, and among billions of processing thoughts, she'd get lost.Romance through cliché circumstances were non-existent; so were reincarnations and fantasy worlds situations as well. She breathes oxygen, people. and it was her specialty.
8 184The Grand Experiment's Dick
A comedy/action story with NOT AN ANGSTY FUCK as the MC. Schemes, backstabs, and dirty tactics are to be expected. The game system is very gamey with stats and etc. actually mattering for something. It might be good, it might not be. Whatever.———— [ Please act like a man and face them. Running away is such a cowardly tactic. ] “Hahaha! If running away is cowardly, I don't want to be brave! Only the last man standing has a right to laugh at the losers. I will do anything to be that last man! [ You can be the last man by fighting. Are you not embarrassed at leaving your team behind? ] “If a man is fears embarrassment, and therefore doesn't run, then I must be the bravest man on earth! No one runs away faster and more efficiently than I do!” [ …You really are a wretched individual. ] “A thick-face and a scheming heart is better than any blade. Why fight yourself when you can trick the two people who want to kill you into fighting each other? It’s all fair play in my opinion!” [ I have no words. ] Hahahahaha! Why fight when you can run? Why do anything yourself? And only move when you're hundred percent sure its a win. A snake’s fangs are its best asset. And a Komodo dragon needs only to wait for its prey to die. Minimum danger, maximum rewards! That is I, Dick's, philosophy in life! ———— Cover is Toadally Awesome
8 95Transcending Chaos
I who had nothing, obtained a new fate. I who had new a fate, shattered reality. I who had shattered reality, severed from Heaven's Way. I who had severed from Heaven's Way, Transcended Chaos.
8 224