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Uno and Fog: Evil Soccer Mom From Beyond

May 11, 2019

I admit it I was expecting something tentacled, slimy and difficult for my mind to process.  Which I supposed it had succeeded at the last part.  If it was going to be human, expected the stereotypical overripe, pale skin, black hair, blood red lips like you used to see hosting late night horror.

Not soccer mom.

“Is she…?” The Fog  asks.

“No.”  I know what he’s asking and answer before he finishes.  I can see she doesn’t have a nervous system the way a normal human being would.

He nods.  He doesn’t seem surprised, but considering what got us to this point, I wouldn’t expect him to be.

“Her child might be.”

He frowns. “Might?”

I shrug.  My endowment allows me to see the electrical currents of a billion neurons firing, but that’s it.

Whatever she is, she looks impatient.  “I ask again: Where is he?”  She sounds pissed.  Now if I saw her on the street I doubt I wouldn’t give her a second glance.  She looks normal.

She is anything but.

I see a familiar figure hurtling through the sky toward us, better late than never, although I would have preferred not late.

When neither of us answer her, I see her lips twist and she makes a quick gesture.

And I feel the most excruciating pain of my entire life.  Every nerve screams like my skin has been peeled off of me.  I can’t think, at all.

Nothing else exists except pain.

Then it is over.  I’m lying on the ground.  I feel drool on my lips and my throat is raw as if I had been screaming, which I probably was.  I do a quick inventory of my body.  I expect to find my self burned all over, or worse.  Put I am whole.

The Fog is on the ground nearby, for a brief moment I see fear in his eyes as he recovers, but then his eyes harden.

It was an interesting trick and I wonder briefly if I could do the same thing to someone.  I had never tried to inflict as much pain as possible, but I can do the opposite of her.

I shut down the pain receptors in my brain, all of them.  This is a risky thing to do, any injury that occurs and I won’t notice it.  I do the same to The Fog as we get back to our feet.

“I hope we understand each other better now,” She says in a voice like that would be at home at a PTA meeting, “now, where is he?”

“We don’t know who you’re looking for.” The Fog growled.

“I’m looking for the one that did this to me.”  She makes the gesture again, neither The Fog or I drop this time,  She doesn’t look surprised, only annoyed and looks at me, “you are one of the progeny.”

Which I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I suddenly get who she is looking for, “Wait, you’re looking for the father?” I gesture at her belly.

“The one that made me like this.” And I get the sense there was more than the pregnancy that she was referring to, but that it was part of it, “you and your pet,” she makes a motion with her head toward The Fog, “will help me find him,” her voice turns soothing, “and I will reward you for your efforts.”

Ms. Teri arrives at that moment, landing behind us, “Begone abomination!  You are not welcome here or anywhere in the realm of mortals.”  I’m focused on evil soccer mom from beyond, than what’s going on behind me, but I see green eldritch light start to leak out around us.

Evil Soccer mom sniffs the air and looks at Teri, “You are not him, but you smell of him.  You will take me to him, now.”



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