Sunday, December 18, 2011

fifth night

i've incinerated the compass. i couldn't risk it getting bigger. i couldn't let it get back to babel.

i still remember my brother. "sherry," he would call my name, "you're just being paranoid. so a few cats around the neighborhood have gone missing. that doesn't mean there's some serial killing bastard around." he was right.

a story. a story to keep me sane.
talos was a man made of bronze that protected the isle of crete. he was made by hephaestus, god of the forge, but to bring him to life he had to be instilled with ichor, the blood of the gods. he had one vein that ran from ankel to neck, bound shut by one bronze nail. he protected crete, throwing rocks at any ship who drew near its shore. when the argo tried to go to crete, talos prevented them. so the sorceress medea, wife of jason, deceived talos into removing the nail, saying that it would make him immortal. when he did, the ichor ran out like blood and talos died.

my brother was right. it wasn't some serial killing bastard.

the golem machine isn't just chrome and steel and iron.

it's flesh and blood and bone. taken from living things. the ichor it needs to run.

1 comment:

  1. It's an abomination, an ugly, hateful thing that lives off the pain and lives and suffering of others. It will steal from you, and everyone you know.