Join My Cult - Original Falcon Press

“What’s wrong, legs don’t work?” he heard from the top of that cliff
face. It echoed for minutes in his head. He curled into a ball and pretended
he wasn’t there, which brought on another raucous peal of laughter.
His breath leapt from his lungs when Dave’s foot kicked him in the
side. Hard. “Speak to me when I talk to you.” He’d probably heard that
the morning before from his father, wielding a belt and smelling like
liquor, Orpheus thought.
Orpheus looked up and saw a face both twisted and horrible. The eyes
were like a gecko’s, looking constantly in all directions, always searching
hungrily for prey. It had a short muzzle, like a cat, but its tongue was
long and lolled out, hanging limply over razor sharp teeth. Thick white
drool ran in long strands and rivulets to the floor as it spoke.
“What’s wrong, faggot?” it asked, its foul breath making him cough,
one of its eyes staring in his direction. A ragged claw came down softly
beside him, a thinly veiled threat.
All around him came a falsetto response, “Yeah faggot? Faggot?”
“You tripped me,” Orpheus said, trying to hide the shaking in his
voice. He started to get to his feet and wipe the dirt from his clothing.
“Asshole.”
“What did you say?” Dave asked, apparently quite insulted. Orpheus
could see the heads of other beings peer over the edges of the seats at
him, each bestial and alien in a different otherworldly fashion, each
making a clicking, insect-like sound of anticipation for spilled blood and
the humiliation of the weak, small and unfit. The tempo was slowly
increasing. He felt Dave grab for him, but he was quicker. Rolling to the
side, he used his momentum to spring to his feet and make a mad dash
for Her seat.
The clicking grew to a painful volume; Dave hissed in pursuit. He was
running with all of his might towards those two blue eyes. Dave’s breath
blared like terrible trumpet blasts behind him.
She was too frightened to come to his aid, but he knew from experience
that for some reason they would stop if he could get to Her.
The bus fell silent. He could see Her smiling at him, then nothing.
Orpheus found himself sitting in the back of an abandoned bus, pulled up
into a fetal position, choked with tears, as a storm outside quickly blew
past.
“Who am I?” he asked aloud. The storm rumbled in the distance,
almost in answer.
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