The Key of Eidolon: Lost in this Masquerade: I Think We're Alone Now

 
Good afternoon and a pleasant All Hallows Eve to you. This post is going to serve multiple purposes. So, buckle up, and let's get started!

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And now, the first ten sentences of our story.

“It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat.”

These words were spoken by a young, angular scarecrow of a man. Virgil DeMille stood six feet tall and weighed perhaps 140 pounds. The shaggy, dark-brown hair topping his oblong head resembled a bad Beatle wig, but it was his own. To complete his look, he wore an unfortunate suit that looked as if he had stolen it from a funeral home. He had a narrow Roman nose, obviously capped teeth, a sharp chin, and his prominent Adam’s apple bobbed in his skinny neck as he swallowed hard and glared at his companion.

Notes:

I shifted from sharing Ketil and Yitzy's Adventure in the Xura Dream House this week to share this piece from the second book in the Tales from the Dreamlands series, which I am currently working on. The rest of the segment and links to purchase Ketil and Yitzy's Adventure follow.

A harsh wind blew the charnel fog hanging over the shores of Xura towards the corrupt structure upon whose porch Virgil stood, regarding the young woman in his company with displeasure. She was an insecure damsel wearing too much makeup, a white minidress accessorized with a black belt, black tights, and black ballet flats. Atop her head perched a wig fashioned in the style of either Marilyn Monroe or Madonna. She had a round face with plump cheeks that she despised, and the moss-green eyes that she wished were jade were filled with doubt about herself, her companion, and her situation.

“I’m not planning anything, Virgil,” the uncertain girl-woman protested. “I’ve just had some time to think about things, and I don’t think what we’re doing is right. Larry doesn’t deserve this. He’s a good person.”

“But he doesn’t excite you, Pepper. That’s why you dreamed about me. You admitted to me that you don’t love Larry.”

“I don’t, and I feel terrible about it. But I don’t love you either. It was just one stupid dream. I never should have acted on it.”

“Pepper, Baby, please! Don’t let that Catholic guilt of yours kill your chance at happiness,” Virgil begged melodramatically as Pepper rolled her eyes. “You agreed to come here with me to the Dreamlands so we could decide what we should do without interference. Just you and me, free to follow our hearts wherever they may lead.”

“Yes, and they’ve led us to a decaying house on an island that smells like death,” Pepper noted.

“And you dig that!” Virgil persisted. “You’re a freaky chick, Pep. You’re into vampires and haunted houses and all that goth shit. Don’t pass up this opportunity. I think we’re alone now, and we have a chance to explore this wicked house and act out our wildest fantasies. Come on, my hot victim, let’s go inside and your Prince of Darkness will make your flesh quiver with arousal!”

As the pair peered into the front window of the intimidating structure, the door opened suddenly. A figure in a black hooded robe holding a lantern stood before the startled couple.