Snippets

by The Wind King

Sobriety

The grey unicorn sat there, the barstool underneath him a familiar companion, the bottles arrayed before him temporary friends on a road that was far, far too long; a road that still stretched on before him.

He could still hear them, whispering voices that longed for him to listen, to give in, to talk with him, to pass their message on to others.

Grimacing, the Unicorn picked up another bottle, the label swam in his blurry vision, a pink Pegasus pony brandishing a mug of amber ale that he had seen so many times before, but it was alcohol, that was all that mattered, not the label, not the number of times he had seen it, not the siren song of the voices.

All that mattered was the silence that the bottom of the bottle promised.

Tilting the bottle back against his lips the Unicorn started to drink, the bitter liquid pooling in the back of his throat before each audible gulp, faint trails of amber fluid and pearlescent froth spilling out from the sides of his mouth as the liquid drained from the bottle.

Finally after the long, shuddering drink, the unicorn pitched forward, slamming the now empty bottle onto the bar, the sudden movement disrupting his balance, and he teetered on the edge of his stool, before finally succumbing to gravity, and falling to the floor with a wet thump.

Lying there, he could see the bartender look wearily over the counter at him, a look of tired resignation, a look he’d received for so many nights since the he’d read the book, since he’d heard the song, since the voices had started to speak to him.

Lying there, as the bartender walked around the counter, he had found blessed silence, finally at the bottom of a bottle he had found silence.

Lying there he could hear the bartender speak “Come on friend, let’s get you to your actual home”

The bartender picked the Unicorn up and slung him over his back as he carried him out of the inn, walking through the moonlit streets, soft puddles of light taking the edge of the darkness, letting the muted shadows swirl and writhe as the clouds shifted in the sky.

The bartender walked up to a dilapidated house on the edges of the town. Trudging through the weeds of the lawn, he pushed the door open as its hinges squealed with feverish intensity, before carrying the unicorn through to a broken couch, an indent in the shape of the Unicorns body dominating the cushions; an indent the Unicorn settled into as the bartender lowered him carefully to the fabric, before turning to leave.

“See you tomorrow friend, hope you feel better”

“He watched the bartender leave, the shrieking of the hinges barely making it through the haze of alcohol that covered his brain as he lay there in blessed silence, a silence he had gone so far to find.

His eyes started shut, his mind turning blank in the comfortable alcohol fog sleep starting to claim, just second before the whispering voices started again.

“Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn”

Tears poured from his eyes as sleep claimed him, sleep and nightmares

Author's Note:

This one was a bit of thanks to Sober for giving me the link to a certain GIF (I don't internet well).

Unfortunately with only his Image and short bio to work off of I don't think I did a very good job, but I tried, I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, does it really matter?

ia, ia