Memortality by Stephen H. Provost

Author:Stephen H. Provost
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Linden Publishing
Published: 2017-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Reunion

Colored lights swirled across Raven’s field of vision and disappeared at the fringes of his awareness, then flickered back in front of him like fireflies against the backdrop of a primeval forest. Tropical vines draped themselves across Scotch pines and cedars in an unnatural array of trees that seemed to be dancing or swaying to some unheard, cacophonous melody.

In fact, this landscape was soundless, but not quiet. Too much was happening for that. A lion padded out from behind a baobab tree, stopped there in the clearing and turned to look at him. It opened its mouth, and Raven saw its chest shaking in a thunderous but unheard roar. Its teeth glistened in the tainted silver glow that seemed like moonlight except there was no moon that he could see. On second thought, it wasn’t silver, but coppery-gold, and the lion’s teeth weren’t teeth but daggers dripping with blood.

Its mouth curled up at the sides, mocking him, then it disappeared—not behind some tree, but simply disappeared, blinking out like a star in sudden morning.

But there was no morning here.

A crew of workmen in hard hats rushed in to the place where it had been and stationed themselves at the foot of the baobab tree, which looked impossibly big around, perhaps as far across as a football field. Each of the workmen pulled out a Swiss Army knife and chose a different implement with which to assail the tree: a corkscrew, a file, a blunt pair of scissors. The tree shuddered as though possessed or in some great agony, and green fluid began to pour from wherever the workmen pierced its bark. But when he looked closely, Raven realized that the workmen weren’t human at all, but had the faces, bodies, and appendages of red ants. They seemed to be shouting at him, but still he heard no sound as they motioned toward him, animated, to move back or go away.

The baobab’s limbs seemed to morph into human arms, reaching out to him in desperation. A knothole appeared to undulate, like lips forming the words, “Help me!”

He ran forward toward the ants, which continued to yell and gesticulate even more wildly before finally scattering as he was nearly upon them. Not scattering, actually, but vanishing into nothingness, just as the lion had.

Then one of the tree’s human arms grabbed him and wrapped itself around him, only now it was slick and covered with tentacles, like an octopus’. He could feel the tentacles constricting around his torso, cutting off the flow of air to his lungs, and he struggled against it. He clawed and gouged at it with his fingernails and then, when that proved to no avail, bit into it with his teeth, clamping down hard and setting his jaw like a pit bull.

It tasted the way he imagined maple syrup might taste if it had been suffused with blood dripping from a nearly raw steak.

The tentacle loosened its hold, and he spat violently on the ground as he half ran, half fell away from it.

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