#tornado sky? time for arby’s my guy

[cwritesfiction]

You’re 800 miles from home.

The land is flat, fields empty, too early in the season for anything to grow. An alert comes across your phone—tornado watch. The sky threatens rain, but so far, the dark clouds above have only produced lightning bolts that arc across the sky. You’ve weathered your fair share of storms before, hurricanes and nor’easters, but none in a place like this, vacant and open.

Yellow green. They call it a tornado sky.

You sit in the backseat of your friend’s Honda, waiting in the drive thru of a truck stop Arby’s, hungry from your time on the road. Beside the car, a dying light flickers almost rhythmically. You can’t look at it for too long. As you order nuggets, your friend compliments the cashier’s hair. Pull to the curb, she says, I’ll get you a fresh batch of fries, thank you, you’re welcome, have a nice night.

The car drifts forward and stops.

You hear her.

She’s quiet. If you think too hard, her voice disappears. As you wait in the flickering light, wind buffeting the vehicle as the sky decides how much damage it wants to unleash, she sings:

A few times I've been around that track So it's not just gonna happen like that ‘Cause I ain't no hollaback girl I ain't no hollaback girl

[squidmouth]

Twins of a Storm- An Original Lovecraftian tale by Lolly Currier (incomplete)

“C’mon, Ellie! Hurry up!” Said Michael Greeley, on the other side of the yard. Ellie Tyler held a red bandana in her hand, and was rushing across the lawn. She was trying not to be tackled by Gina Brennan, who raced to gather her honor by stealing back the flag. At that second of victory, Gina tagged her as she crossed the painter’s tape. Leo Martin, a fellow red team member, belted, “GINA! She crossed the line! You can’t tag her!” What ensued came to a grand argument that reorganized the teams into “Those who agree with Gina” and “those who don’t”. Behind that anarchist and childish moment of locking horns, a great eldritch from beyond the cosmos came to squash a cul-de-sac. That cul-de-sac.

Soaked in blood, a great shadow leered upon the small community that was “Maple Creek”. It was a maple-free place that did not settle near a creek. That shadow had a name that was pronounceable by a minuscule tribe of linguists, and thus, many have taken to call it “The Grue of Storms”. Many in the town surrounding it saw only its teeth, greenish corkscrew claws uncensored by lips. Others have seen its limbs, a set of thorny tentacles with many eyes.

The Grue led a set of storms. They consisted of a few blizzards, several thunderstorms, and a couple thunder-blizzards. Luckily, it was easy for the Grue to hide with said storms.

Kevin Wilcox looked at the sky, and a blue flag fell from his grasp with fear. Kevin loathed storms, and his sister, Maisy, told him, “Kev! Get in the house! It’s raining.” All the children, except for Gina, rushed into the Wilcox home. Gina loved the rain, but when she gazed upon the Grue, the Grue gazed upon her, and it was too late. Gina’s remains turned to bloody bones. The grue sensed Gina’s friends within a humble abode, and grasped and consumed said home. Some have noticed the uprooting of 420 Hopps Avenue, and some have evacuated to their yards... to no avail. The Grue devoured them like pomegranate seeds. Their homes, uprooted and devoured; the tiny people within had their lives flash before their eyes.

The Grue’s thorny arms stabbed the small birds who witnessed the gore and destruction. The Grue flew off at 1000 times the speed of light, leaving only its destruction. The Grue flattened it, but no mere mortal could remember the day a 10 mile tall Grue devoured and flattened a city. They all remember it as “Hurricane Melanie”.

It was a sunny day, with clouds coming in from the north, in Omaha. Kids were playing, birds sang, and all was well. The night before, the stars weren’t perfect, but the weather was.

In Washington Park, six children were playing “Animal Tag”. Lily Fowler, who was “it” at the moment, tagged her friend Billy Jenkins, and laughed, “You’re a ducky now, Billy!” Billy reluctantly waddled and quacked, making his friends know that he was fair game. Just as he was about to get tagged by Teagan Neville, it started raining, and Lily reported,

“Guys, I felt some rain. We should hide in the playground.” The children groaned, but this was no ordinary rain. Gr’logyth, the Grue of Storms, broke out of his prison on Saturn’s icy rings. His three noses smelled the blood of innocent people, and his ever open mouths devoured the buildings like sushi rolls. Next stop, Washington Park.

Gr’logyth summoned a tornado to mask his unholy deeds, and demolished Pizza Hut and White Castle, murdered Wendy’s, McDonald’s, Arby’s, Burger King, and the Dairy Queen. He hit a Target, and drooled on a school. The maples at Washington were turned to syrup, and the cherry trees were devoured. But whatever happened to the children at the playground?

First, Gr’logyth slid the swinging children down his throats. He swung his twin tongues around the jungle gym, he juggled the youth on the merry-go-round, and the kids on the slide spun around his esophagi.

Gr’logyth, overall, had factories meet their maker, torn apartments apart, made high-rises fall, and rode a theme park down to the ground. When the survivors looked upon the disaster, Gr’logyth wasn’t blamed. They just called it the “tornado of the century”

It was a beautiful night, and many people gathered in the Swiss Alps for a Snow Whizzyte concert. It was the straight white male rapper’s first stop in Europe, and he was going to KILL IT! Many European conformists lined up at the door with their 200 Euro tickets, and when Whizzyte stepped on the stage, screaming ensued.

“WHAT IS UP, SWISS NATION? I’M YOUR HOST, KILLER SNOW WHIZZYTE! LET’S GET RIGHT INTO THE RAP!” The crowd of blind idiots tossed themselves out of their seats, and into the “music” as Snow started off the show with his hit single, “Bullet Avalanche”

Suddenly, out of the calm, serene hills, came a stirring. Land rained down from gentle peaks. Katamaris of snow leaped down upon mountainous villages. Wind and fog gusted down from clouds up above. Gr’logyth was back, and ready to destroy innocent humans.

Scientists and Meteorologists sent out warnings. Whizzyte, when notified of the situation, ignored the concert hall manager, and kept rapping a naughty song from his new album, “Crack Flame”.

Gr’logyth watched as people escaped their homes for safer ground, chased them easily, and watched as they climbed into his mouths like trains into a tunnel. Humans were crunchy, he couldn’t resist.

Suddenly, the roof of the concert hall fell down under the thorny paws of a cosmic monster. The sound was deafening, and preps prayed to Azathoth, calling him Jesus, that they would be spared. Unfortunately, their precious Snow was smashed under the corkscrew fangs of the Grue of Storms.

Little managed to escape that fateful night without getting eaten, or smashed by Gr’logyth’s many landslides. Teens cowered for safety, but those teens were smashed when the grue uprooted their precious concert hall, turning them into mushy blobs.

At least Gr’logyth was fed, for now. If his mighty second cousins noticed that only scraps of the human race were left, he would have to stay in Saturn’s rings for at least one million years. He took off into the European night, off to Pluto, his new home since his imprisonment, and eventual release. He could not relax, because he knew, across a distant star, that someone would arrive, and he would have to pay for overdoing it on the natural disasters. Possibly.

In the distance, beyond the Oort Cloud, and past the Hyades, lay a distant heroine, grieving for the loss of an empire that once was, and having to trap a good friend, a brother of hers. Her name was Dol’kurai, and she had just gotten the message that her brother was awake, and having breakfast.

Dol’kurai, the weeping prism, was a humanoid with a giant bell-shaped opal for legs. Her six arms were laced with pale patches of fur, iridescent, like her elongated bismuth mane and goatee. Her six eyes cried mercury, and her large pointy ears heard the cries of any Earth creature. She resembled a cat/dove hybrid, both in personality and appearance. She was iridescence burdened with the fears of mankind.

She commenced her flight, sobbing quietly, towards Earth, and accidentally disturbing Gr’logyth’s tsunami, as he focused on his eternally-sobbing sister. Dol’kurai wept, “Dear brother, you have spoiled a land saved for our distant cousins. Why do you act like our cousins? They are imprisoned in R’lyeh, Jupiter, Venus, and other lands! Do you envy them, grue?” The grue bowed his head, coated with open mouths and cried out,

“Sister, we are elder gods, loved by man. I don’t desire their approval. I see them as a pitiless waste of space. I was freed because of your tears. The people on Earth are sinners, and they must be exterminated.”

This only made Dol’kurai sob harder, and drown North Korean villages with mercury, and have them go wild. Dol’kurai felt guilty for her actions, and swooped down upon North Korea, accidentally giving the dictator there a hallucinatory episode.

Gr’logyth shrugged, and comforted Dol’kurai, “Now you see. Homo Sapiens is EVIL, Prism. I will leave our cousins to the destruction part in the future.” Dol’kurai blasted, “YOU DON’T GET IT! ALL I WANT IS TO HELP HUMANITY!” causing the entire Eastern Hemisphere to go into mass hysteria, because of an Eldritch monster fight. “BROTHER! We haven’t experienced what it’s like to be human, but I feel their pain. Their tears are my tears,” Dol’kurai sobbed, “Maybe we could pretend to be human, just for some Earth moons. Promise?” Gr’logyth reluctantly agreed.

Meanwhile, on a small town on the Vermont-New Hampshire border, two foreign hitchhiking siblings hopped out of a lime green Citroen. Greg Stern, a sharp-looking man with crooked teeth, and his sister Opal, a dark and crestfallen woman with almost un-natural platinum hair, stepped into the only employment center in town. Opal and Greg carried with them degrees from a community college, and only a suitcase between them.

The electronic “bell” on the glass door of the employment center, a 2 story office with mostly aspen-beige walls, buzzed as Opal sulked and Greg sauntered in. At the receptionist’s desk, which was coated with plastic horses and cards with technicolor ponies on them, sat a plump blonde woman called Angela, who welcomed them in with open arms. Angela pepped,

“Hello! You two are the first customers we’ve had all day! How can I help you?” Greg nodded and inquired,

“Ma’am, we might be here for a few moons, so we may have to look for work.” Angela peeked at their degrees, and nodded. She declared, “Oh! The employment officer, Mr. Sotomura will be right with you two!”

Mr. Yoshi Sotomura, a lanky newbie to the community, sighed as he welcomed the duo of strangers. Mr. Sotomura peered at their degrees, and stated with an uninterested tone,

“Huh. Well, Greg… apparently, the National Weather Service is looking for newbies, and for you, Opal...I think the local school is looking for a secondary counselor.” Greg cheered in joy, but Opal on the other hand…

After nearly two weeks at their new jobs, it turned out that Opal lived for her job, compared to Greg, who was suffering at his weather job. Opal was getting along wondrously with the youth she assisted, and Greg was unused at his job.

Suddenly, from beyond some New Hampshire hills, came some cumulonimbi with malicious intentions. Not even the people at the National Weather Service knew what was going on, except for Greg.

At Opal’s school, Opal gazed into the rushing waves of a flood coming their way, tugged on her pale hair, and clenched her mahogany fist, while speedily thrusting her Samsung out of her sienna leather handbag, and telephoning Greg. Opal barrelled through the halls of the school, and took a few minutes to stand outside to explode,

“GR’LOGYTH! You don’t get it, do you?” in her native tongue. Meanwhile, at the other end of the line, Greg snickered,

“Hey, Dol’kurai, relax! It’s only a flood! I think it could be my chance to be accepted in the Outer Ring, conversing and hanging out with Azathoth and Hastur!” Opal slammed the door to her school, and slightly transformed to a form redolent of her original one, but much more human, and stormed down to the NWS lab.

As she rushed, she attempted to stop a storm, but it kept resuming in a hilarious manner. “Son of a bitch, that Gr’logyth,” Muttered Opal. People sobbed for mercy as their orifices gulped up enough water to fill them. When Opal reached the laboratory, she screamed bloody murder, because the door was coated with hailstones. She suplexed them away, and there was Greg, revealing his true form to his sister. Greg and Opal argued, with every blow revealing their true form, until…

“Dear God! Stern’s a monster!” Ejactulated Herbert Vo, a nearby bloke with Asiatic heritage, a bulky body, and long hair. All the NWS staff gasped at the glory that was the two elder god twins Gr’logyth and Dol’kurai.

[squidmouth]

you haters say sound is advocating rape well is this advocating demons

“C’mon, Ellie! Hurry up!” Said Michael Greeley, on the other side of the yard. Ellie Tyler held a red bandana in her hand, and was rushing across the lawn. She was trying not to be tackled by Gina Brennan, who raced to gather her honor by stealing back the flag. At that second of victory, Gina tagged her as she crossed the painter’s tape. Leo Martin, a fellow red team member, belted, “GINA! She crossed the line! You can’t tag her!” What ensued came to a grand argument that reorganized the teams into “Those who agree with Gina” and “those who don’t”. Behind that anarchist and childish moment of locking horns, a great eldritch from beyond the cosmos came to squash a cul-de-sac. That cul-de-sac. Soaked in blood, a great shadow leered upon the small community that was “Maple Creek”. It was a maple-free place that did not settle near a creek. That shadow had a name that was pronounceable by a minuscule tribe of linguists, and thus, many have taken to call it “The Grue of Storms”. Many in the town surrounding it saw only its teeth, greenish corkscrew claws uncensored by lips. Others have seen its limbs, a set of thorny tentacles with many eyes. The Grue led a set of storms. They consisted of a few blizzards, several thunderstorms, and a couple thunder-blizzards. Luckily, it was easy for the Grue to hide with said storms. Kevin Wilcox looked at the sky, and a blue flag fell from his grasp with fear. Kevin loathed storms, and his sister, Maisy, told him, “Kev! Get in the house! It’s raining.” All the children, except for Gina, rushed into the Wilcox home. Gina loved the rain, but when she gazed upon the Grue, the Grue gazed upon her, and it was too late. Gina’s remains turned to bloody bones. The grue sensed Gina’s friends within a humble abode, and grasped and consumed said home. Some have noticed the uprooting of 420 Hopps Avenue, and some have evacuated to their yards… to no avail. The Grue devoured them like pomegranate seeds. Their homes, uprooted and devoured; the tiny people within had their lives flash before their eyes. The Grue’s thorny arms stabbed the small birds who witnessed the gore and destruction. The Grue flew off at 1000 times the speed of light, leaving only its destruction. The Grue flattened it, but no mere mortal could remember the day a 10 mile tall Grue devoured and flattened a city. They all remember it as “Hurricane Melanie”. It was a sunny day, with clouds coming in from the north, in Omaha. Kids were playing, birds sang, and all was well. The night before, the stars weren’t perfect, but the weather was. In Washington Park, six children were playing “Animal Tag”. Lily Fowler, who was “it” at the moment, tagged her friend Billy Jenkins, and laughed, “You’re a ducky now, Billy!” Billy reluctantly waddled and quacked, making his friends know that he was fair game. Just as he was about to get tagged by Teagan Neville, it started raining, and Lily reported, “Guys, I felt some rain. We should hide in the playground.” The children groaned, but this was no ordinary rain. Gr’logyth, the Grue of Storms, broke out of his prison on Saturn’s icy rings. His three noses smelled the blood of innocent people, and his ever open mouths devoured the buildings like sushi rolls. Next stop, Washington Park. Gr’logyth summoned a tornado to mask his unholy deeds, and demolished Pizza Hut and White Castle, murdered Wendy’s, McDonald’s, Arby’s, Burger King, and the Dairy Queen. He hit a Target, and drooled on a school. The maples at Washington were turned to syrup, and the cherry trees were devoured. But whatever happened to the children at the playground? First, Gr’logyth slid the swinging children down his throats. He swung his twin tongues around the jungle gym, he juggled the youth on the merry-go-round, and the kids on the slide spun around his esophagi. Gr’logyth, overall, had factories meet their maker, torn apartments apart, made high-rises fall, and rode a theme park down to the ground. When the survivors looked upon the disaster, Gr’logyth wasn’t blamed. They just called it the “tornado of the century” It was a beautiful night, and many people gathered in the Swiss Alps for a Snow Whizzyte concert. It was the straight white male rapper’s first stop in Europe, and he was going to KILL IT! Many European conformists lined up at the door with their 200 Euro tickets, and when Whizzyte stepped on the stage, screaming ensued. “WHAT IS UP, SWISS NATION? I’M YOUR HOST, KILLER SNOW WHIZZYTE! LET’S GET RIGHT INTO THE RAP!” The crowd of blind idiots tossed themselves out of their seats, and into the “music” as Snow started off the show with his hit single, “Bullet Avalanche” Suddenly, out of the calm, serene hills, came a stirring. Land rained down from gentle peaks. Katamaris of snow leaped down upon mountainous villages. Wind and fog gusted down from clouds up above. Gr’logyth was back, and ready to destroy innocent humans. Scientists and Meteorologists sent out warnings. Whizzyte, when notified of the situation, ignored the concert hall manager, and kept rapping a naughty song from his new album, “Crack Flame”. Gr’logyth watched as people escaped their homes for safer ground, chased them easily, and watched as they climbed into his mouths like trains into a tunnel. Humans were crunchy, he couldn’t resist. Suddenly, the roof of the concert hall fell down under the thorny paws of a cosmic monster. The sound was deafening, and preps prayed to Azathoth, calling him Jesus, that they would be spared. Unfortunately, their precious Snow was smashed under the corkscrew fangs of the Grue of Storms. Little managed to escape that fateful night without getting eaten, or smashed by Gr’logyth’s many landslides. Teens cowered for safety, but those teens were smashed when the grue uprooted their precious concert hall, turning them into mushy blobs. At least Gr’logyth was fed, for now. If his mighty second cousins noticed that only scraps of the human race were left, he would have to stay in Saturn’s rings for at least one million years. He took off into the European night, off to Pluto, his new home since his imprisonment, and eventual release. He could not relax, because he knew, across a distant star, that someone would arrive, and he would have to pay for overdoing it on the natural disasters. Possibly. In the distance, beyond the Oort Cloud, and past the Hyades, lay a distant heroine, grieving for the loss of an empire that once was, and having to trap a good friend, a brother of hers. Her name was Dol’kurai, and she had just gotten the message that her brother was awake, and having breakfast. Dol’kurai, the weeping prism, was a humanoid with a giant bell-shaped opal for legs. Her six arms were laced with pale patches of fur, iridescent, like her elongated bismuth mane and goatee. Her six eyes cried mercury, and her large pointy ears heard the cries of any Earth creature. She resembled a cat/dove hybrid, both in personality and appearance. She was iridescence burdened with the fears of mankind. She commenced her flight, sobbing quietly, towards Earth, and accidentally disturbing Gr’logyth’s tsunami, as he focused on his eternally-sobbing sister. Dol’kurai wept, “Dear brother, you have spoiled a land saved for our distant cousins. Why do you act like our cousins? They are imprisoned in R’lyeh, Jupiter, Venus, and other lands! Do you envy them, grue?” The grue bowed his head, coated with open mouths and cried out, “Sister, we are elder gods, loved by man. I don’t desire their approval. I see them as a pitiless waste of space. I was freed because of your tears. The people on Earth are sinners, and they must be exterminated.” This only made Dol’kurai sob harder, and drown North Korean villages with mercury, and have them go wild. Dol’kurai felt guilty for her actions, and swooped down upon North Korea, accidentally giving the dictator there a hallucinatory episode. Gr’logyth shrugged, and comforted Dol’kurai, “Now you see. Homo Sapiens is EVIL, Prism. I will leave our cousins to the destruction part in the future.” Dol’kurai blasted, “YOU DON’T GET IT! ALL I WANT IS TO HELP HUMANITY!” causing the entire Eastern Hemisphere to go into mass hysteria, because of an Eldritch monster fight. “BROTHER! We haven’t experienced what it’s like to be human, but I feel their pain. Their tears are my tears,” Dol’kurai sobbed, “Maybe we could pretend to be human, just for some Earth moons. Promise?” Gr’logyth reluctantly agreed.