Extinction
It had come to pass, that the sun’s plan for his people had not failed. But all was at an end. It was the day of extinction for the Race on this world as the sun grew large and red in the sky, taking up most of the horizon as it became bloated and hungry.
Its radius had already swallowed the inner planets, and this world was next. The solar shielding was collapsing, the only time bought for its survival, long since paid with ancient technology, expired. The wall of plasma and radiation raced closer, its surface cooled, though that mattered little to the planet as it rushed outward.
So, tentacle in tentacle, they faced the fire, as their world was consumed by the dying might of the sun, no more to be a land of songs and glory but only dust and death, the last vestiges of its spirit already spread among the stars . . . .
. . . To remember the world and the Race that once was!
Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017
The Hungry Visitor
It was three in the morning as Daryl chanted the last words of the incantation, sure that this time he would summon a mighty agent to avenge the loss of his job.
Fire him from work, would they?!
The visitor stepped through the lattice of swirling green vortices into this world. It then reached behind itself, toward the opening, and closed the portal behind it.
Swirling green vortices spun, faded, and blinked out as the figure approached, claws glistening with slime and feathery moth-antennae flailing, its insect-like eyes adjusting to the light, as if the illumination was painful, causing it to wince at first upon entering the room.
Daryl got a good, long look at it, as it shambled toward him.
Grabbing him, it gestured again, this time opening another gate, and, dragging him along screaming, strode toward it, anticipating.
The visitor was hungry, and this would be its most recent meal in a long, long time. As it walked through its gate the visitor thought to itself. Why is it always morons who summon me? Once, I was called forth by some idiot in the 1920s who wanted to become a millionaire. Another, by this imbecile in the 1970s who wanted immortality!
Sigh . . .
An ultra-terrestrial’s work is never done. But on the other hand, slow-witted summoners are quite tasty when braised in a little blue wine sauce!
Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017
Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.
He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.
He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.
He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy
