The Kraken's Spire Literary Magazine (Volume 1)

IV
THEY RAN. STAMPEDING down the even roads of Haven Heights, Vanessa, Ignacio,
and Marisol fled the chemical stench trailing behind them. Malcolm assaulted
them with his words as he chased them. The words were even worse
than the stream of charcoal colored liquid issuing from the bottle. With each
drop that touched the ground, wisps of smoke joined the chase, rising from
scorched patches of earth that crumbled under Malcolm’s footsteps. He followed
them all the way to the edge of the neighborhood, to the sign of glowing
bronze announcing the limits of Malcolm’s reign.
Even as Malcolm’s threats faded behind them, Vanessa urged her children
to keep running, keep fleeing.
“But what about our bikes?” Marisol complained. “We left them in Mrs.
Haddish’s garage.”
“Forget about them! We’re never going back there now.” Vanessa shuddered
as the sound of sizzling earth buzzed in the back of her thoughts.
Everyone in Malcolm’s neighborhood could hear the sizzling now, too.
Blackened swaths of grass sent up smoke signals pleading for relief. The bottle
was empty now, spilled in a haphazard pattern across Haven Heights, and it
remained melded to Malcolm’s ashen hand. Spines were poking up through his
skin where the liquid made contact, but he paid no mind. He was more concerned
with the steel-colored trunks sprouting in his wake. When he tried to
pull them up or kick them over, Malcolm was met with gravitational resistance.
Its equal and opposite force burrowed the trunks deeper into the ground. And
there they stayed.
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