WPCA - Excerpt from "All Good Things"

All Good Things was a bit of writing a friend and I put together. Absolutely massive. We did it back in 2007. This year, in 2009, we hope to put something together that's a bit more -- how do you say -- refined. I'll probably post excerpts from that somewhere along the line. In the meantime, here's a random part from All Good Things.

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Chrysanthemum wandered. The labyrinth was playing games with her, she knew. Every time she saw a gate that led to a new area and attempted to get there, the way would turn severe. The ground would rise up, become smooth to the point where she couldn't scale it. Trees would block the path or scrubby grass with thorns and strange poisons that bit into her skin and forced her to lie for hours as her body regained whatever strange health she had. What was more, packs of roving tigermen things with spinning, cutting blades chased her now and again, following her, hunting her.

It was at those times she began to discover her own powers. At first afraid, tentative, like a baby taking its first steps in wonder and fear. She could distort her reality if she concentrated hard enough, and it was in those moments she could cause the most damage. A darkness that crept from the shadows to dismember and consume the tigermen that sought her. At first, they didn't seem afraid of her and her newfound abilities, but then, she began leaving one alive after every attack, a messenger to go back and tell the others of her power.

Some gates looked twisted when she passed them, with strange worlds beyond it. It was like looking through a mirror; mirror worlds abounded, each with their own style. Some seemed sunny, beautiful, wondrous; others were dark, sinister. She wandered pathways that had no walls, areas that had no light, areas that had no floors and she floated in space. She wondered in an off-handed way if this was what it must be like to be an addict.

She slumped against a wall, one of the few she had seen. This area was a plains clouded over in twilight; the tigermen roved here frequently, but had left her alone thus far. Why was she here, she asked herself. She groaned in annoyance. Everything was just getting so messed up and she felt she was somewhere in the middle of it all. And why couldn't daddy do something? But what could he do?

As these thoughts swam through her brain, a feeling of utter terror filled her. She opened her eyes and saw a woman lying on the ground, weeping, beaten and bruised. She sobbed for such a long time, and Chrysanthemum simply felt terrified of this woman. I know her, she thought. But who had done this to her, and why? Why would they hurt her so? What had she done to deserve this? And then a wave of anger and hatred washed over her as the phantom righted itself and stalked off into the abyss of nothingness, dissipating in a wake of fury. Chrysanthemum stared, feeling hollow for a moment.

"Why?" she said. "Why is it like this?"

"Because, child," a voice whispered, "those who have are envied, and those that have not desire to have and covet what their neighbor has. The concept of shared life, of union and charity is dead. Find those who have nothing and you will find those who have everything."

Chrysanthemum turned and found a strange man in a pair of pajamas staring down at her. He seemed different. His skin looked like water, his eyes were the color of empty jade. Hair that looked like space flecked with stars hung about his head in a wizened way about a balding spot and he shared a smile of crooked, black teeth with her. She suddenly wanted to poke him and see if it would cause a ripple.

"Vadel Mayr Veldrosky," he said, extending a watery looking hand, "attorney at law." The smile broadened. "Come to present my closing arguments to the jury, but they're out and the witnesses were all killed. I'm afraid this mob boss just might get away. Sad thing, too; the racket he's running is hurting a lot of people."