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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Fantasy · #2282164
Short story from prompt
Something like a chirp from a cybernetic pigeon awoke Ethan The All-Knowing from his midday slumber. The corners of his mouth were crowded with Cheezo dust and drool, leaving a damp neon orange trail down his cheek and onto the open pages of a densely inscribed tome beneath him. Damn he hoped that wouldn’t stain. He checked his phone, huh, his last customer left a review. He opened the Yodel app and was aghast to see a single star hovering over a single word. 'Scam'

Incensed, Ethan let loose a series of guttural utterances, something more than words but less than a whole sentence. The air around him sizzled with primal energy, heat poured from his body in waves until the page he was studying began to smolder. ‘For all the saints in hell!’ he muttered. His wordless fury took form, hanging like a poorly dressed deer, visceral chunks of pulsing energy dripping into a shape resembling human, provided you had only heard about humans from a madman. Ghastly proportions stretched the small figure to a hitherto unthinkable shape. Its left half was massive and muscled like an auroch, its right side pitifully weak, leg too short to be of any use. The figure lacked any definition beyond the muscle tone, just a grayish blob glowing softly with an inner light. It listed to the left its sinister arm knuckle walking toward Ethan. Its head was oddly shaped, constantly in flux shifting from one geometric absurdity to the next. It glared at him, fractals breaking as it spoke. ‘Your request.’ It buzzed with what Ethan knew to be disdain but he needn’t the creature like him, merely obey.

Ethan absentmindedly checked the ring on his right pinky finger, the gem's touch was familiar as he assured himself of its presence. “I seek justice! A Mage of my caliber cannot bear these outrageous slings and arrows.’ (The polydjinn deftly avoided the spittle produced by a high caliber mage.) ‘My very livelihood has been made the butt of society’s joke for the last time. To the Battle Cruiser, Gycillius!”

The creature Ethan incorrectly named was older than could be accounted for by mundane measures, its best estimate had it well into middle age by the Big Bang and in given all that time it would not refer to a 2003 Dodge Neon as a battle anything. Though the polydjinn would admit it bore a striking resemblance to the Engines of the Beyond but only because it was plastered with ‘enchantments’ of dubious quality. The bulk of it seemed to be aluminum foil with puffy paint spread into a parody of runic script along the slowly rusting chassis. The result was garish and reflected an unforgiving sun to everyone within the visible spectrum.

‘And who shall bear the brunt of your misanthropic tantrum this time?’ It asked as Ethan poured his prodigious bulk into the compact. ‘The deli wench who according to you has been shorting your egg salad order for weeks?’

Ethan huffed, partially from disgust but mostly from exertion as he settled into the seat. ‘Are you suggesting a Mage of my caliber cannot properly ascertain the volume and mass of 16 oz of egg salad? With mine own eye do I see her grubby paw weighing the scale. I say nothing as courtesy until her downfall is advantageous to me.’

The car sputtered like a beast tired of the specter of death as the engine struggled to come to life. Ethan muttered and looked expectantly at the polydjinn. With a perfect simulacrum of a human sigh the creature of infinite wisdom and unassailable power hotwired a Dodge Neon.

The polydjinn pushed aside the empty take out containers and distressing number of socks to sit on the cracked pleather seat. ‘Is it the valet at the hotel who laughed at your bumper stickers?’

‘If you mean Chet, who snickered at the wards of protection I entwined with the resonant frequency of my Arcane Battle Cruiser, no. He shall be dealt with at a later date. But know the Dagger of Isosceles hangs above his neck! Now get me Gregory!’

The polydjinn’s head shifted several planes beyond Planck’s constant and brought up the shape of a rotary phone. ‘Dialing’ it said, ringing softly.

The young man in a plaid jumper answered exactly the way someone wearing a headset would, with polite indifference. ‘I.T. this is Greg, what is your emergency?’

‘Gregory my boy,’ Ethan shouted. The polydjinn had told him he didn’t need to shout but Ethan did things loudly or not at all. ‘A crime has been committed but the fool was sloppy and signed his work. Your skills are needed! Find me DongSlayer420xxXxx from Yodel!’

Greg sighed, he didn’t know how this maniac kept finding him. ‘What do you want Ethan? My brother wants his GameBox back by the way.’

‘Don’t live in the past Gregory, the GameBox was essential to my traversal of the higher realms! Now do the thing!’ While traveling at a speed that could only be described as inadvisable at best, Ethan had taken this time to open a bag of chocolate covered pretzels and with great care and no small amount of skill he waggled his hand in a complex arc. The pretzels danced their way into his mouth with grim choreography.

Greg knew if he didn’t his dog would start speaking sideways Klingon again. ‘Is that a capital D in DongSlayer?’

With a new heading the Dodge Battle Cruiser made a surprisingly elegant U-turn at the nearest intersection, effectively blinding any pedestrians facing East. ‘Huzzah, my friend, you will be welcomed in the great halls with mead and women!’ The polydjinn did not tell its master it had ended the call after they had gotten the address.

Being older than most of the cosmos, the creature ignorantly called Gycillius had a unique perception of time, weeks passed in seconds, days lasted years. When Ethan spoke it fondly remembered the infinite void and cursed every second of forced consciousness it suffered.

Their final destination was a small house with a small porch and a small dog next to a large man. ‘Of course, the fog of realization lifts, this poor boy had a viscous discharge of unknown origin oozing from his chakras. Of course being of the unenlightened caste he would not perceive such danger. In his arrogance he besmirched my name and denied my vast and vexing abilities but no longer! No one scoffs at my unguents! Go Gycillius, be my wrath.’ The immortal polydjinn waited with limited patience for the child locks to disengage. It shambled its lopsided gait to the porch. ‘Show now mercy!’ Ethan said, stretching to close the passenger door.

The dog began yapping a tattoo onto the air as the man on the porch recognized the pair, you don’t forget a 400lb wizard and his misshapen minion. ‘Gary, your friend is here!’ He called as the small dog sniffed industriously at the polydjinn eventually deciding it was good enough to urinate on.

‘He’s not my friend dad! He’s my nemesis!’ A pale figure in black shouted from the upper window. ‘Your invisibility cream didn’t work and my socks won’t shut up. I want my money back!’ The boy ducked back into his room and threw out a crystal. It landed unceremoniously before it began to hum.

A peal of thunder erupted through the calm skies. The polydjinn’s head formed an intricate mandala as it matched the harmonics of the crystal before it, once attached to the proper wavelength the creature easily crossed the distance between himself and the boy, solid walls be damned. The boy was frightened as the half heavily muscled creature was creeping towards him until it closed its sinister hand cleanly on the boy's face for merely a moment. The boy slumped immediately as he received the full weight of existence for a fraction of a second. The acne-scarred face of Ethan appeared before him in all its patchy-bearded glory. Words big as mountains crushed his psyche as he was left hollow, knowing only he must update his Yodel reviews.

The creature that was not called Gycillius returned to the Neon and to Ethan nervously rubbing his pinky ring ‘With all of Hell’s might I banish thee back from whence thou came!’ The creature began to fade into blissful nonexistence, ‘Unless you want to hang out and watch me do karate?’

The polydjinn sighed cosmically.
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