Chapter 158: (Darknyss) (2/2)

Well, that wasn't typically Lanaktallan, although Da'amoo appreciated the aesthetic of the apostrophes in the name.

Well, it wasn't for an hour, and the little 2.5D recreation of the Terran redhead was lighting what he'd learned was 'a smoke' and asking him if he wanted to do a line of 'coke' or not.

The appointment wasn't for an hour. It couldn't hurt. He activated the VR features of his datalink and the red haired Terran girl held out a mirror for him with white lines on it. Snorting them made a real tingle spread through his body as the program NOTAVIRUS.EXE raced through his implant.

He sat back, chatting with the red haired Terran. She was so fascinating, wanting to hear about his day, agreeing with him and teaching him terribly profane and insulting things to call his coworkers and underlings.

”Basic Bee-yotch” was an insult he repeated several times, popping his jowls. It made him chuckle.

Regretfully, he told the red-headed Terran he'd 'smell her later' and logged out of the game. He sat back and waited for his appointment to knock on his door.

He frowned when he saw mist slowly raise up from the floor, a black mist that smelled of ozone and something slightly cloying. His officer flickered and suddenly was replaced. Instead of the book cases groaning with plas-backed legal tomes there were strange books jacketed with red, blue, green, black, tan animal skins, all with gold letters. His functional desk had been replaced by a massive carved and inlaid wooden monstrocity covered with things such as glass jars of ink, bird feathers, rolls of parchment.

He gasped, seeing that the walls were covered in red velvet and there were pictures of Lanaktallan all staring down at him, wearing the sashes of his ancient predecessors. There was the Lanaktallan who had determined that shaving two tenths of a second off of the crosswalk safety zone only increased accidents by one one millionth of a percent but resulted in a five ten thousandth of a percent increase in productivity. There was the Lanaktallan who had proven, mathematically, that Lanaktallan with white socks were inferior to those with black sock.

Gasp. There was the Lanaktallan who had codified the bribery systems! Staring at him! Disapprovingly!

One the walls were gas powered lamps shining yellow light into the office. His beautiful window was covered by heavy velvet drapes.

The lights flickered and slowly dimmed until Da'amoo was in complete darkness. He felt himself start to tremble in fear.

He wished the blue haired Terran girl was here.

From the darkness came a whisper. ”Blah bleh-blah” in a hushed tone that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. Da'amoo whimpered in fear.

The door burst open, revealing that the standard hallway of duralloy, featureless except for the stencils of whom worked behind each door, had been replaced by a hallway of red velvet and black satin, with more portraits of Lanaktallan, these ones leaning out of the carved wooden picture frames to stare disapprovingly at Da'amoo. Only the hallway was lit and the shadows slowly built as the lamps dimmed.

Black mist swirled down the hallway, to the door, flowing up in a cloud until it dissipated.

Da'amoo wet himself.

He stared at the suddenly opened door, the shadowed hallway still brighter than the dark room. In the doorway stood a dark figure, a biped, thin at the bottom, broad shoulders, a high collar, shiny black hair slicked back, burning red eyes, and a pale face that was misshapen even for a Terran. As Da'amoo watch the figure suddenly moved backwards, into the hall, steadily dwindling as it rapidly swooped away, vanishing into the darkness.

The lights came back on, showing the hallway as it was. The red carpet was gone, the wood paneling replaced by the duralloy walls, the pictures of stern looking predecessors missing again, the handing light sources that had been of black metal with flickering lights replaced with the normal round convex lights.

There was no sign of the black clothed Terran with the red eyes that had been in Da'amoo's office only a second before.

The door slammed shut. A plasteel door again instead of the heavy wood panel.

His office was back to normal, brightly lit and modern looking.

That still didn't stop Da'amoo from screaming when he finally found his voice.

He was still screaming when MilSec busted into his office. They had to sedate him and take him home where his servants put him to bed.

He took almost three weeks off due to 'emotional exhaustion'.

And spent all of them with the Pink Panty Fairy and the Terran females she introduced to him to calm his nerves.

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As the Renfield began to hammer upon the ivory keys of the great musical organ, Darknys's Ravenway'y held up his long, thing, spidery fingers and wiggled them in mid air, his carefully sculpted face lit with malevolent glee as he sat on the stained crate before the ancient typing machine. He gazed with his red eyes upon the mechanical keys as he set his gnarled fingers, tipped with curved black nails, upon the keys and began to rapidly type, the keys hitting the bare roller as the ancient organ music, predating even the Great Glassing, swelled and ebbed in the echoing sewers beneath the Council City.

Deep in a castle in Transylvania, TerraSol, an exact replica began to hammer out the message being typed thousands of light years away.

UNCONVENTIONAL WARFARE OPERATIONS PROGRESSING. HAVE MANAGED TO ESTABLISH INFILTRATION ROUTES INTO MULTIPLE MOST HIGH RESIDENCES. STAGE ONE HAUNTING WILL BE ENGAGED WITHIN FOUR PLANETARY ROTATIONS. BLOOD FUEL ADAPTATION IS SUFFICIENT TO EMPOWER AGENT.

Satisfied with his message, Darknyss stood up, swirling his black cape about himself.

”Abra-capocus!” he intoned. He turned into a great winged bat with a human head, and flapping his wings with a smug self-satisfied expression, he flew down the tunnel.

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CONFEDMILINT

Oh, crap. Dammit.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HIVE WORLDS

What? It makes me nervous when you say that.

We're a nervous people, man. I mean, we're silly, yeah, but we're really nervous.

You're totally freaking me out, man.

Don't be doing this on Intra-System Ice Cream Celebration Day, man!

WHAT! WHAT IS IT!?!?!?!

IS IT A SPIDER? IS IT A HISSING SPIDER? OH GOD, IT'S A HISSING BLUE FUZZY SPIDER ON MY HEAD ISN'T IT!

OH GOD!

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

CONFEDMILINT

Calm down.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

TREANA'AD HI

OH GOD IT'S TERRIBLE AND...

WOAH! LOOK AT HER DANCE!

SOOOOO SHINY...

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

MANTID FREE WORLDS

You were saying?

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

CONFEDMILINT

Thanks for distracting him. I forgot it was P'Thok's birthday today.

Anyway, an old weird espionage system got activated.

Dammit, I forgot about guys like that.

Oh, and check with Dreams. It looks like her electronic security officer left behind a library of bootleg games. See if it was on purpose or not.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

MANTID FREE WORLDS

Oh. OK.

Um, define 'weird', my friend.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

CONFEDMILINT

Um, it looks like someone forgot to decommission the Nosferatu Initiative.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---

MANTID FREE WORLDS

asdfklajshfdd 9879879&S*&D^^*&S^%DT*&^SDYI UHHJWD

>MANTID FREE WORLDS HAS LEFT THE CHAT (LOST CONNECTION TO HOST)

>MANTID FREE WORLDS HAS LOGGED INTO THE CHAT

I'm sorry, I was laughing so hard I crashed my interface.

---NOTHING FOLLOWS---