Tis the Reason

Sweating, his arms still shackled to the wall, he was spread-eagle and there was nothing he could do about it.

Hateful, he glared at Morbid. 

The static was broken once more with Frank calling out over the radio, "Max. Where are you?"

Max didn't respond. He just stared at Morbid with a thin grimace on his face. 

"Answer them," Morbid told Max.

The MaX Factor

The summer sun was slipping away, sinking like a ship upon the horizon or more like a drowning man still maintaining life as long as possible. 

Max turned the car down the dirt road, heading up to an old farmhouse. It was old and the windows long since smashed and boarded up. The road hadn't been used in a quite awhile, and the tall grass was rubbing along the underbelly of the car.

He stopped near the front steps and sat in the car, turning it off but keeping the radio on. His fingers drumming to the beat. He looked at the rickety steps leading up to the porch of the house, the rails knocked over and the paint long since vanished. 

He cracked a smile when he heard an old tune on the radio, it brought a floodgate of memories.

His watch began to chime, it was: 9:19. He shut the car off and got out and headed towards the abandoned building. As he touched the first step, he felt the wave of dimensions - it felt like he was stepping through a waterfall into a hidden cave. The steps were painted a fresh white colour, and the lights on the house were on. The door to the house was opened, but the screen door was closed and he could hear the sound of a tv set inside. 

He cracked another smile when he heard a young girl's voice declare, "Uncle Max is here!"

Hiccup

Max braked the car in the mouth of the alley. He found nothing but rain and an empty alley behind the nightclub. It all felt wrong, and he realized that he suspected it was a trap. 

"I'm here," he said to no one in particular.

"I see you," said a voice over the radio. "Get out the car and walk down towards the red door." 

Max reluctantly slid out the car; he glanced around and saw no other movement. He new this was a trap, but he had to play along.

"The red door," the voice on the radio told him. "Now." 

Max whispered slightly, "You with me?"

"Right behind you," Mags' voice whispered softly in his ear.

The Incantationalist

Maggie looked at the maggot on the palm of her hand, staring at it as it wiggled about trying to latch back onto the rotted parcel it was eating. With a tilt of her hand the tiny devourer of flesh rolled into a coffee cup. 

She then plucked a strand of hair from her head and proceed to tie it into three knots. She smiled as she did so, and then added that to the cup.

She reached across the table to obtain the final ingredient. She reached inside the ashtray and took a pinch of it and then dropped it into the coffee mug. She muttered to her self, something that sounded like an incantation. 

She reached over and poured coffee into the mug, and as she did the patterns on the cup began to swirl.

"Perfect," she said. She stirred the cup and then smiled.

Mana Hit

Goner was bored and was tired of riding the rails; it seemed like they were in the car for hours with no end in sight. 

Various platforms phased past the windows, each view a different take on a Salvador Dali painting. He was restless and wanted out, just for a few moments of fresh air.

He glanced around the subway and saw everyone either catching 40 winks or meditating. Except for Aqua who was sitting and listening to her digital audio player. 

"What are you listening to?" Goner inquired. He plopped down in the seat next to Aqua; he could hear the music escaping from the crevices around her ears.

"Mana Junkies," she replied. 

"Those wieners? Man that's crappy music. Why don't you listen to Plastik Kyngs or better yet Dexx3r. They have rad sounds!" he told her. "Mana Junkies. What a wimp ass name for a group."

Pen is Mightier

The doorbell jingled as Darius entered the coffee shop; he stopped and stared at the chime overhead and he marveled at the wonders of a simple device that alerted those within earshot that someone had entered.

With the world constantly spinning ahead in technological wonder, here was an old wind-chime still doing sentry duty. He shook his head. 

He kicked up his skateboard and headed over to a booth, still with a simple smile on his face.

Joan the waitress had a glass of lime water placed at a booth. She proceeded back behind the counter and placed an order without even taking it. 

"You're a saint, Joan," Darius said as he slipped into the booth. And then he chuckled to himself when he realized what he said.

"Thank you, Dar," she replied and flashed him a smile. 

He reached within his pockets and took out an old bible and a pen and a notepad and placed it on the table by the window.

"What do you write in your journal?" Joan pried. She was bored and just wanted to make some small talk. 

"Oh you know, the usual," he started. "Battling demons, fighting hordes of undead zombies, having coffee with an angel."

 

Relish the Thought

"Do you smell that?" Maggie asked. She had stopped and sniffed the air. Max paused to take a sniff, but he couldn't detect anything. 

"What do you smell?" Max inquired. He wiped the brow from his forehead. They still had a little ways to go through the tunnel.

Maggie closed her eyes and took another whiff and then she shook her head. 

"It's mustard dammit," she replied. "A lifetime supply of mustard!"