Home > Royer's Madcap Experiences > Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Other World Figures

Royer’s Madcap Experiences: The Other World Figures

January 29, 2014 Leave a comment Go to comments

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By Ric Royer

It was evening and I was alone in the unfinished room above my garage, eating an owl. I had a pictorial magazine depicting doors of all types open at various angles and the radio on low when I heard a soft knock.  The sun had just gone down.

It was odd, indeed. The stairway to this mysterious room issued a series of sharp creaks and low moans and yet, I had heard nothing. The knock came again. “WHY?” I called out and then realized my mistake. But by then it was too late. The doorknob turned slowly and three shadowy other world figures entered the room.

The unfinished room above Royer's garage.  The Other World Figures appeared on the right.

The unfinished room above Royer’s garage. The Other World Figures appeared on the right.

There was nothing to them but pure shadow– only the barest outline of past humanity could be discerned. They seemed to be hooded– their arms hung limply at their sides. They stood like the front of a bowling pin formation– two behind the first.

Minutes passed. There being nothing I could do until they fired the opening salvo (whatever it be), I elected to finish off the owl. Then, I drank two two-liter bottles of soda in quick succession. After that, I was ready.

One of the figures in the back suddenly picked up an empty plastic container shaped like a barrel (it had once contained puffed cheese triangles). The barrel hung there in the shadows eerily. Then, it disappeared slowly– as though it were being sucked into a pit of quicksand. The plastic top did pop off and land on the ground– to which one of the figures distinctly said “shit” in an eldritch, ungodly voice but otherwise the passage was perfect.

“Why don’t you get out of here,” I said, electing on a gambit that seemed futile and yet, I could think of nothing else. I picked up a giant newspaper and swung it about in their direction. “Go on now, get out of here.” The trio moved slowly backward towards the door. It seemed to be working. I stepped it up a notch. “ASSES! OTHER WORLD ASSES. GET OUT OF HERE.” I threw a bucket towards them– it disappeared into the shadows. “Get out of my unfinished spare garage room– YOUR KIND ARE NOT WELCOME HERE.”

I had cornered them near the doorway. I continued to hurl objects towards them– another empty plastic barrel, an old decorative ham, a piano. Finally, it was too much for them. They retreated. I watched them move strangely across the lawn– you could see their path in shadow behind them. Finally, they seemed to move off into the night air. Then the path before me slowly dissipated.

I looked over and saw my East Island neighbor. The consensus throughout the area was that she had fine tits for an East Islander. I stared right at them. “To hell with it,” I thought.

“Everything alright?” she asked in her East Island way. “Yeah,” I said, continuing to stare at the fine, perfectly formed titties. “Everything looking real good to me, real good.” I allowed myself to drool a little.

It must not be part of her culture. She was putting dirt into clay pots.

It would happen. Another night.

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