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|Indolandia (standard:Suspense, 620 words)|
|Author: jopoguerrero||Added: Jun 27 2008||Views/Reads: 2745/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
Indolandia Amelio swung the door open as the ruthless knockings threatened to tear down his shack. But besides the thick fog and the syrupy night, he found no one, or nothing, at his doorstep. “Damned ghouls,” he spat. “They are disturbing my sleep again.” Amelio is a son of the warrior-god Irinian. He inherited from his father the unpleasant task of protecting the mortal world from the nuisances of dark immortals. Sometimes, the spirits he had crushed try to get even by hurling cheap irritants at him. As he motioned to close the door, the fog slid into his house and shrilled like a chorus of tortured souls. “Oh please help us,” the fog cried. “Please rescue Indolandia!” Amelio quickly grabbed a spiked iron ball mace resting on his wall. But an unusual weight pressed down his shoulders as he swayed the weapon to a fighting mode. Suddenly, the darkness sucked him into a nightmarish unconsciousness while phantoms of uselessness and irrelevance tried to pull every fiber of his being. Amelio woke up in a place unknown to him. It was like a world of dead sunflowers – battered, wilted, wasted. Despite his aching muscles and heavy head, he readied the weapon in his hand. All of the sudden, the flaccid sunflowers glowered at him and maniacally screamed. “Amelio, son of the great Irinian, help us!” Startled, Amelio gripped his weapon. “Who are you? Where am I? Better not do anything funny, or I'll chew your cursed spirits into pieces!” “We are Indolandians and you are in our dying home!” the flowers answered. “Please help us! Ramporma is consuming our land down to its last bits!” “Ramporma?” Amelio muttered as he felt an increasing pain in his limbs. “The god of ineptitude?” “Yes,” the flowers cried in unison. “And he has already reduced most of us into breathing cadavers.” “Look, there he is now!” they shifted tensely. “He is poised to consume the spirits of our remaining active plot!” As he trained his eyes to the direction, Amelio saw Ramporma – an obese white dwarf who sported a seemingly eternal giggle. The god of ineptitude was inching toward the last row of buds. His evil eyes glimmered as he drooled for the last of the Indolandians. Amelio realized that he had to act fast. And he knew exactly what to do. Summoning back his strength, he wildly swished his mace on the air. Then he rapidly commenced on pounding and smashing and trashing on the wilted sunflowers – blackened leaves, stems, heads and florets flew in all directions with Amelio's sweat and tears. The spiritless flowers shrieked and cried and pleaded, but he continued on reducing them into pieces. As Amelio stomped on the last withered flower, a dark cloud formed above Ramporma and gobbled up the god of ineptitude into nothingness. After a few seconds, brightness swept across Indolandia which especially shone on the remaining sunflower buds. By the stories he heard from his father, Amelio learned about Ramporma. The god of ineptitude lives where incompetence thrives, and the only way to get rid of him is to destroy the plots that fed him his power. Amelio had to destroy the sunflowers that were already conquered by Ramporma – thus, saving the still untouched buds. With the light regained, Amelio saw the direction toward his own place. But before he could start heading home, a bud wriggled and innocently spoke. “What happened? How did you defeat Ramporma? What happened to the wilted sunflowers?” asked the bud. Amelio smiled. “Well child, your withered ascendants died so that you may live. Grow up and honor their sacrifice by making yourself useful to the world.” “I will, Sir...I will”, the bud whispered with a tearful smile. Tweet
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