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View character profile for: Harriet Martha Lane
Knee Deep in It
((This is an introductory post for my character. Feel free to jump in, if your character happens to be in a cave system in Ireland or more mystically inclined.))
Tourists ask how many undiscovered caves there are. I pause for a moment to let them think about what they want to know. It's usually the Americans who take the longest to figure it out.
"I can't tell you, because they are undiscovered," I announce. The chuckle is worth a few extra euro in tips, on a good day. On a day like today, it's got me knee deep in muck and misery wondering what's queer about Old Man Mallory's vegetable patch.
A vegetable patch. You wouldn't think it such a rebellious act, but under Luthor and his cronies? One carrot grown is a food stuff you don’t have to pay for, one part of a meal you you don’t have to wager against a part of your spirit.
I press on, playing tug of war over my boots with the soft mud. Slight stalks poke out at regular intervals. The artificial lights quickly hung through the passage cast a ghastly yellow pawl over the ground and the rough, rock walls. It smells, not just of manure, of decay. A fetid marshmallow fills my nostrils. I’m very close.
I wasn’t alive during The Troubles. Mhamo has told me stories. Foreign invaders occupying our towns and villages. Informers and provocateurs looking to turn countryman versus countryman, or turn them in to the powers that be. As much as she hated the English, I don’t think she’d ever really consider them on par with actual demons.
The ground at my feet swirls and rises, freeing the small homunculus. Tiny teeth and claws leap towards my face. I want to think it’s some honed self defense response that saves me. It’s really just dumb luck that delivers the creature into my hands. I catch a glimpse of its anger and hate for just a moment before I snap its thin neck. Its body liquifies to cover my fingers in black ichor. Decay demon. Just the thing to summon to ruin a crop. If it’s only one, I should consider myself lucky.
The thin carrot stalks tremor and shake as the ground starts to shift and twist. It’s not just one and I may be in a spot of trouble.