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  The Master nods his head and gives a brief reply in the unknown tongue.

  The purple pool begins to bubble and spill up into the air.

  “Eric!” screams Jenna.

  The beaten and wounded priest turns and finds her. He smiles at her sight.

  The liquid rises out of the giant bowl in a pointed tendril. It quickly shoots out and through Eric before instantly dissipating into nothingness.

  The child’s body begins to dissolve into a mist, as if his skin no longer contained the ephemeral gas of his body.

  “Bye,” he says softly, and then he vanishes into the ether, as if he were in a camera lens falling out of focus.

  Jenna is too broken to scream. She hangs her head and weeps in defeat.

  Benjamin speaks again to the Master, now in a more pleasant tone. The alien words roll effortlessly off his tongue.

  The Master nods, then rises to his feet upon his throne.

  The man pulls back his hood though his horns remain in place. The Master reveals that he does not have a human top to his head.

  The bottom half of his jaw and teeth are manlike, despite his pale skin and blackened teeth. But where his nose should be, his head is flat across to the back, as if it were lopped off to leave a flat plateau.

  Instead of the normal human features, the top of his head has a group of long and thick strings which twist aimlessly like floating, underwater seaweed. Within that tangled mess of unearthly reeds are a few tiny men, which seem to climb and move about the flailing tentacles. This small scene is framed by the three horns rising up out of the skull like three smooth pincers.

  The Master holds up his arms and barks aloud a short, rhythmic chant.

  The masses in attendance echo the words like a congregation at service.

  The churning purple water in the pool besides the Master turns white and bubbles up large than before. It soon spouts its mysterious substance high into the night sky like a powerful fountain, where thin ropes of the water thrash about in a frenzied mass.

  Suddenly the mountain of flowing goo opens like a flower. The petals fire outwards at each of the sacrificial women.

  The substance curls and coils around Jenna with wet warmth. The chains fall open, and her arms float from her body. Jenna is lifted lightly into the air.

  The women each begin to drift forward towards the white pool. The waters spread open like jaws to consume them.

  As she nears, she can see that the center of the mouth appears to be a bottomless vortex.

  The captured women are simultaneously consumed by the mystical fountain in a single moment.

  Jenna is blinded with whiteness. The dreamy sensation envelops her entire body. It feels like sinking into a warm bath.

  Once she can see again, the house and the party are gone. Now she is soaring in a bright and empty sky. She can feel a gentle, downward descent to her motion.

  Beside her float the other girls from the party. Together they form a wide ring perhaps hundreds of feet across. The group falls in perfect, synchronous motion like a team of trained sky-divers.

  A glittering blue city appears beneath them from the murky haze. With giant towers and curving spires, its unearthly architecture is odd, though still breath-taking and gorgeous. Despite her recent ordeals, Jenna cannot help but smile at the lovely scenery.

  But then the sky begins to change. Its soft white world bleeds into a bright red. Dark gray clouds start to appear everywhere like a suddenly budding storm.

  The other girls begin to scream in horrifying pain.

  One by one, they alight in purple flames. The ignitions starts with the girl at Jenna’s left, then spreads clockwise around the circle back towards her.

  But when the girl to her right explodes in a blaze, Jenna quickly stops falling.

  The other burning women continue their descent like the flaming wreckage of an exploded airplane.

  Suddenly Jenna zooms backwards into the sky. The rushing air pushes her hair back over her face and into her mouth.

  She falls onto a dusty ground.

  When her throbbing senses finally stabilize, she finds herself surrounded by the white masked partygoers. It is still nightfall in the back area of the doomed manor.

  Benjamin stands beside her, furiously speaking in his bizarre language to the Master. By his tone and expression, he is apologetic and scared.

  Upon his throne, the Master balls his fists angrily. His mouth screeches relentlessly at Benjamin. The growths from his head tremor violently. The little people inhabiting his skull dash around in frenzied agitation.

  “The drinks. You took them, right?” asks Benjamin of Jenna. His eyes are filled with sorrow and confusion.

  “Yes,” answers Jenna weakly.

  Benjamin returns to his argument with the Master, each busy shouting down the other.

  “But then I threw it all up.”

  Benjamin stops his yammering, and rushes back to Jenna. His head almost butts hers as he cries, “You did what?!” His pupils are pitch-black, though they are pulsing with fear.

  A giant rumbling shakes the ground.

  The Master reaches to an armrest for support. Benjamin topples onto his back, the dirt spoiling his coat. Both men share looks of grave concern.

  The pool of liquid bubbles violently again. The fluid spills over the sides of its wide bowl across the dusty ground.

  The guests watch in unflinching silence as a monstrous serpent explodes up and out from the fountain. It does not have scales, but a rough white flesh that is beaten and scarred. Its head opens wide like a flower with three petals, but each jaw is lined with rows of long, deadly teeth. Smaller tendrils are spaced evenly around the giant mouth like a mane of thrashing noodles. Below those antennae or tentacles are rows of uneven black eyes, which are of assorted size and blink in random patterns.

  When the monster roars, the Master shields himself with his arms. He falls to his knees upon his raised platform, and his inhuman voice begins rapidly chattering for mercy. The tiny men upon his head begin to flee, hopping off onto his shoulders and robe while scurrying for safety.

  The creature swings its deformed head over and crushes the Master in its jaws. It drags the screaming man back down into the pool as both disappear from sight.

  The world falls into silence. Only the splashing of the lapping water is any sign of the recent commotion.

  Once Jenna recovers her wits, she rises to her feet. The circle of white masks turns to watch her. Benjamin kneels on the ground, head hung in miserable defeat.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m so sorry.” She begins to sob.

  Benjamin does not move at the show of emotion.

  “Can I please go now?” she sniffles politely. “Please can I go?”

  Without looking at her, he sighs heavily. “No.”

  Jenna hears a hissing to her left. When she turns, it is a large python, slithering out from the legs of the crowd. It is missing all but a few of its scales, exposing a grotesque pink flesh that is rough and swollen. Its mouth opens wide to show large fangs. Its dark eyes are locked on her.

  Then from behind she hears an animal bleat. When she turns, there stands a goat, which also is hairless and ugly. It snorts angrily as it advances upon her as well.

  Benjamin speaks in a soft and humbled tone. “The rules were so simple,” he explains. “You should have just drunk. The party would have been so much better if you had.”

  About the Author

  Mike Miller is a graduate of UC Berkeley and lives in L.A. with his wife and kids. He has written numerous short stories, comics, screenplays and novels in all genres, as well as overseen the subtitling and translation for hundreds of films and television shows like Twin Peaks, The Host, and The Amityville Horror.

  “Thanks for reading this, and I hope you enjoyed it.

  Please feel free to review it online.”

  - Mike

  [email protected]

  www.MikeMillerVerse.com

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.facebook.com/MikeMillerVerse

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  All Rights Reserved

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  All Text and Images ©MMXIII Mike Miller

  All Rights Reserved