Chapter Six: A Declaration of Non-independence
I walk along with Von Gash for a while as he explains the beautiful scenery of his underground kingdom. The architecture inside the Von Gash estate is akin to that of ancient greco styles. Archways swing way overhead and meet the red carpeted floor. Swig, swagitty, swuggin’ if I do say so myself. We walk for a couple of minutes on velvet rugs as the scenery changes to a short little hallway with pictures of other residents. Velvet never felt so fine. The world really opens up when you got a job. I moesy for a little bit more when we finally make it to an ornate wooden door at the end of the dark hallway.
“This Mr. Blaster will be your temporary accommodations. Also, someone came down here a little while ago and dropped off a letter for you.” A letter, who could that be from? I barely get any letters. Either there’s murder attempts or the saucy kind. Heh.
“Thanks Von Gash, and if you could send me my gear in an hour or two that’d be great.”
“I will send a servant to your quarters at 10:00pm.”
“Much obliged.”
I open the door and close it behind me. I hear Von Gash’s footsteps thump away on the velvet rug. I start to lounge for a little while. I take off my red tie, mount the shades on my forehead, pry the dress shoes off my weary feet, and flop onto the bed in front of me. I lay for a good long while as I let the muscles in my body quiet down, and spin around to my front side.
“Fuuuahh. What a day.” I growl as I clasp my hand over my head. Before we take a nap let’s see that letter Von Gash was talking about. I growl a little bit and flop my body into action. I slap my hand onto the bed table to my left and grab the first papery thing my hand graces. I swoop the paper off of the table to my face. I open my eyes to bursting as I recognise the scratchy over-exaggerated writing.
Dear Little Destroyah,
It’s been a while hasn’t it? I hope yer doin’ fine, I know I am. Wanted to talk to you personally. Face-to-face y’know? But that mangy pussycat from the underworld a yours wouldn’t allow it. Nearly cut my hide to shreds just for wantin’ to talk to ya. All I can do is send you this letter. And maybe a fair warning along with it. Little one, I hope you’ve built up a hatred for lizards. Cuz you will be seein’ a lot of them. Other than that, found yer gear out here in the cosmos, Sphink. Woulda never thought you’d resort to a black hole as a trash shoot mah boy. You’ll be gettin’ that when you need it the most aright kinnie? Happy memories from the war! Send me a letter some time Sphinxy Boy.
Don’t be so cold to your Godfather.
Signed, Old Man Lightning
My head rings with pressure, and the weight of the past drops me to the ground. Why, Old Man? Of all time’s why would you contact me now. The shock of his handwriting and the weight of his being rushes into me. I feel the shock, the shiver, the stretch, and the terrible fear inducing shaking. It starts in my gut, but the shake rushes through my body as memories clash with scars and fears clash with anger.
How dare he. He must be watching me right now laughing his ass off at my fear. How dare he.
For all that he’s done to me. Rushed me inta the forever wars, dropped me inta the desert of forgotten dreams, stripped me of my humanity for a day or two with all the smallness of a stare. I feel tears rushing down my cheeks and into the cursed parchment. Electricity shoots into my hands as I remember my days in the Hellspace . . .