DOOM FICTION
DOOM FICTION Podcast
TDMT 3.5: "M_____."
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TDMT 3.5: "M_____."

CHORIZO, NEVADA is filled with the grittiest of men and the filthiest of women—the perfect place for a man chockful of secrets to hide. But one fateful day, his past catches up to him...

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DOOM MAGNETIC!!! - CHAPTER FIVE:
M_____.

William Pauley III

Gusto pops the top off a can of refried beans that he’d swiped from the burrito boys and digs his fingers in deep, shoveling out a handful straight into his open mouth.

“Holy shit, man,” he says, “I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry before.”

Qoser ignores him, resting in his jar atop a trunk of an old dead tree. Instead his concentration is aimed at something in the beyond, in the darkness surrounding them.

Gusto licks the beans clean from his fingertips and swallows the mouthful in one huge gulp. “So, what is it we need out here in these woods anyway, boss? Looks to me like there’s just a bunch of nothin’.”

“I told you before, we’re looking for a woman.”

“Doesn’t look like we’re doing much of anything though,” Gusto says, digging his fingers into the can for a second helping. “We’re just sitting here, listening to crickets and shit. Wouldn’t it just be easier to go out to club or something?”

Qoser exhales loudly through his nostrils. “We’re not looking for just any woman. And the reason we’re sitting here is because I’m using my, ah, my—power, my phantoms, whatever—to find her. Give me two minutes of silence, that’s all I need. I’ll find her, then we’ll go to her.”

“Phantoms?” Gusto mutters to himself. “I’ve got to be fucking insane hangin’ around this clown.” He pushes his tongue between his fingers and digs out a chuck of bean crust that’s hardened against his skin. Qoser closes his eye and concentrates on the phantoms, mentally traveling from phantom to phantom until he has scaled the entire mountain.

It isn’t long until he finally sees her, the woman in white. She’s running with her arms flailing about, as if she’s being chased, but from what he can tell, she seems to be completely alone. She may very well be the only living thing on this side of the mountain. Well…living may be a stretch. While running around, arms flailing, typically implies that person is indeed alive, in this particular case, the woman is absolutely dead. In fact, she doesn’t even have a head. It’s been lopped off, and quite some time ago, as the dried blood covering her otherwise white dress implies.

Qoser makes a mental note of her exact coordinates and returns to his jar.

“Eureka,” he says, just above a whisper.

Gusto throws the empty can deep into the woods, stands, and licks more bean residue from his fingertips. “‘Bout damn time, boss. I was beginning to think you was crazy and shit. Some of these conversations we’ve been having lately…they’re not normal. You know that, right?”

He walks over and picks up Qoser’s jar from the dead tree trunk and wraps his arms around it.

“Okay, I got a good hold on you. Let’s see those fireworks,” he says. Suddenly a bolt of lightning splits the sky and swallows them whole, spitting them out in the same area Qoser had just spotted the woman in white roaming.

“Christ, man,” Gusto shouts. “That chick ain’t got no head! What the fuck? Is this your girl?”

Qoser doesn’t even hear him anymore. He’s staring at the woman with admiration, with love. It doesn’t even feel real to him, seeing her now, after all the years of searching and coming up short. He’s seeing her, the real her, for the first time in decades. His one good eye is blinded by a tear as he greets her.

“Hello, mother…”

Paid subscribers! The next chapter of this story will be posted on June 6th! Stay tuned for Starman.


M_____.
© William Pauley III, 2011
All rights reserved.

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