Cedar Sanderson is doing N'inktober, so I'm going to follow along and do what I've been trained to do by the Raconteur Press Postcard books: come up with a story to match her visual prompts. I can't guarantee that I'll have a complete story for every image, but I'm going to at least try to come up with a scene, a start, or an idea!
Chaotic Growth
I was halfway up the first flight of steps when I stumbled, sprawling on the couch stone. I pushed myself up and shot a terrified glance behind me at the shadowy forms of the anyingemo pursing us. I drew a deep, shuddering breath, threw up my hands and wailed, “No! I am done for! Run and save yourself!”
My assistant, Number Nine Mule, stopped and sighed. When he turned back to face me, however, his face was arranged in something that a charitable observer might describe as a rictus of fear.
“I shall not abandon you, Master!” he bellowed as he grabbed my arm and yanked me upward. A lot harder than I had anticipated. Instead of merely pulling me to my feet, the lunk launched me into the air, catching me on his shoulder.
“How was that?” he whispered as he turned and continued trotting up the stairs.
“You nearly wrenched my arm off!” I hissed, rolling my shoulder to try and get everything back into place. “And we need to resume your acting lessons. That grimace of yours wouldn’t fool a blind man. You’re lucky the anyingemo are dumber than your namesake. I think they’ll fall for it.”
Mule didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. I imagined I could feel his eyes rolling, even through the jostling as we continued upward, zig-zagging up the steps carved into the side of the mountain. A few minutes later, when we reached the summit, he was panting heavily. I patted his shoulder fondly as we passed a behind a copse of ornamental trees.
“Good boy. Set me down, will you?” He did so with a muttered comment about diets and weight. I ignored him - such comments being beneath the notice of a man of my stature and girth - and peered around the trees to examine the plains that spread out beneath the Shrine of the Mountain.
The three anyingemo that had followed us from Nanjing had stopped at the foot of the stairs. Wherever they stepped, the grass under their feet immediately sickened, bursting upward in a tumorous, chaotic growth that quickly withered and died. They milled around, apparently confused, but unwilling to abandon their hunt for us.
I shook my head and thumped Mule. “They’re also as stubborn as your namesake. Thankfully, as I anticipated, they are confused by a something as simple as a stairway.”
“I thought you said there were heavenly protections around the shrine?”
“Hmmm? Well, yes. That too.” I was somewhat distracted as I searched my person for the Spyglass of the Six Winds. I finally found the bit of bamboo and held it up to my eyes.
The three anyingemo snapped into focus. Though they were still wreathed in shadow, I could now see their true forms. Long arms, clawed fists, and snarling mouths filled with fangs. Each had burning red eyes under a heavy brow, all set in a lumpy face that looked like someone had smashed it repeatedly with a club.
“Master?”
“Shh!” I raised the spyglass to peer into the distance. There on the horizon, low to the ground, was a seething black cloud slowly inching forward.
“Ah, Master…”
I held up a hand to forestall his chattering as I focused on the cloud. A hundred thousand pairs of burning read eyes stared back at me. I scanned it, and easily located the figure of the Third Peril, towering over the anyingemo that boiled under its feed.
“Master!”
Mule’s voice was more instant. I waved him back into silence as I continued my examination. Even with the spyglass, the figure of the Third was indistinct. Which was probably for the best, as laying eyes on the true form of any of the Four Perils was said to make a man’s heart explode. Still, I could see the Third clearly enough to determine that it was, in fact, following the same path Mule and I had taken to reach the Shrine of the Mountain.
I pumped my fist. “Yes! Got you, you miserable son of a goat!”
“Master Lu!”
“What?” I lowered the spyglass and turned to see what had Mule so riled up, only to find myself facing a half dozen guards, each with a spear leveled at me. Two other guards had spears at Mule’s throat.
“Ah! Perfect.” I bowed slightly. “Gentlemen, please take me to your daozhang. I have come to offer him advice on how to deal with his impending problem.”
One of the guards, a little older and with a few more wrinkles around his eyes, frowned. “What problem?”
“For a start, the fact that you don’t know that you are about to have a problem. A demon problem, to be specific.” I used a finger to nudge the tip of his spear aside. “Now, let’s see about that meeting with the daozhang. We need to wake your dragon and save the world.”
This is cool, and yes, I agree that it would be fun to have the story filled out. I want to know what happens when the dragon wakes.