Inside 63

[ThirdEmperor]

[Skyway - Speak of the Devil]


But does anyone look up?

Two stunted little creatures flutter through the air on wings too small for their potbellied bodies. Creatures much like misshapen dolls, with big blank eyes and chubby-cheeked, curly-haired faces all knitted up into red and ugly effort as they lug a great cast iron kettle between them. Little raindrops pitter and patter onto the streets below, black tarry raindrops that cling to the hair of alleydogs and passersby.

"There's one!" "Willit do?" "Anyone'll do unless you want to carry this all day!"

There is a silent nod of agreement, and a shared gasp of relief as the cauldron drops. Down below, and oh, pray someone's looking up, Nick and the strange electric lady will have a second to get away before the kettle *thwomps* into a crater in the ground between them. Tarry black gloop sprays in all directions. It's an evil old thing, rusty and dark, the surface carved with scowling and screaming faces. The darkness inside begins to boil, the awful muck bubbling up and belching an awful, chemical, rubbery scent into the fresh air of the park.