literature

A Conversation Between Monsters

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Literature Text

The District Necromancer walked back and forth in front of the bloated mass that was a man, now a thing, a thing known as Locklaur.


"-We hope to curtail individual spiritual existence within the district in the next half a year, although it may take several more months to handle the outer-ranges. But they can wait, they are little more than fodder, and our squads of undead keep them and their population within well-check."


He spat each word out as if it were a bit of rotting meat, but in an excited sort of way. Locklaur's spindly fingers and large, overgrown, spider-like hands wrapped around his wine glass, sharp fingernails tapping and tinking against the glass.


"An-"


He made a face as if he'd vomited, his jowls and mouth contorting in a certain sudden hatred, eyes sunken, beady, eyes flaming. This man was thinking up far better ideas than he, Locklaur, Tycoon and Aristocrat, owner of the Locklaur company, and possessor of more money than these two-bit humans could even comprehend. If he could move himself properly, he would have tried to kill the bastard right then and there. But he couldn't, and so he didn't.


"-Excellent idea, Sir Lord General Major Exalier. I take it you'll use your magikal sources oncemore? I do hope I am able to see them in action this time, I'll have my guard drive me a limousine to the destination, if there is one."


Exalier smiled a cruel smile, a lipless one, his pale gums and sparklingly white teeth staring at the thing talking to him.


"Indeed, indeed. I, as your loyal servant and friend would never hesitate to show you the inner workings of my abilities. So; How about it, Locklaur?"

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