After hitting the enter key and seeing the search results I was immediately gripped. For some, the expression fanciful or mildly humorous, but all I could see were the eyes. The inhuman, dark bile boiling behind them, carrying a lifetime of sin and putrid sludge. The eyes peering into the vacant prosperity of every human soul, encapsulating everything around in it a crimson haze, projected literally through the iris of the dogs eyes. Gazing deeper and deeper into them, I see less of a dog, and more of the true dark form that lurks behind the seemingly innocuous visage covered in fur.

Those eyes. THOSE FUCKING EYES. LOOK AT THAT DOGS FUCKING EYES MAN.

LOOK.

 
AT.

THOSE.

FUCKING.

EYES.

Eric had walked along the coast of the lake many times along the way home. He'd walked along it so many times in fact, that he never really batted an eye at it, or cared to take a second look at what he was really walking past. Of course, he could have no real suspicion that the lake was home to GLONG. THE ONE TRUE GOD.

So it came as quite a surprise when walking along, Eric saw a ripple in the surface of the lake, followed by a great gushing geyser of water bursting forth into the air, spewing gallons and gallons of water upward in a great plume, revealing a massive gelatinous creature, bright orange in color, with three huge horns, 18 eyes all of different sizes, 20 foot long feathered bat wings, a slimy probiscus with a human mouth at the end, and very small human arms, albeit very muscly and tanned.

"QUAFF HUMAN. BRING ME THE HEAD OF THE LAST OMNICORN."

Eric then quickly pulled out his ultimate nullifier, and shot GLONG, rendering his matter in all universes and planes inert and unexistent.

"Nigga, I AM THE LAST OMNICORN!" He said, and promptly tore off his man-flesh, and galloped away, neighing endlessly, all the while impaling ducks on his many horns.

It was a ponderous discovery, one that when made, took away the last sparkling glimmer of wonder from the world. As if all magic and doubt were suddenly traded away for logic and reason, forever splitting the societial bridge between those with faith, and those who demanded extraordinary proof for extraordinary claims. It's effect was anathema to nearly all religious and spiritual groups, and it's findings a final scientific explanation to thousands of years of hearsay, myth, rumor, conjecture and anecdotal sightings. A discovery as important as it was controversial. Simply put; that which we believe to be sightings of ghosts, entities, or any form of walking spirit, is nothing more than a mere magnetic recording. The way grooves on plastic can trap sound, so did it in turn, capture energy, images and sound itself, in the magnetic field of the Earth. One scientist described it as the world being a large hard disk, with many files randomly being saved, and played back at differing intervals. Some happy, some sad, some mean, some nice, some safe, some dangerous.

 

But none of this affected Natalia. She too, was surprised to hear the news of the Great Discovery at first, but not being a very religious person herself, found it an interesting footnote in the otherwise very busy bustle of her life. That all changed three weeks later however,  when her grandfather passed away. A sudden and shocking death, as he was in the prime of health for a man in his age. The cause of death was later found to be a freak defect, a bloodclot that formed and lodged itself in his brain, killing him in his sleep. Natalia was crushed, as she had spent many years of her life, being raised by her Grandfather and her Grandmother. Having never really known her parents, what with her father leaving her to her grandparents as a child, and her mother having passed away during childbirth.


It was a week to the day after his death, that she first saw her Grandfather again. She stepped out of the shower, wrapping her towel against her body, toothbrush in mouth, and took a half step backwards when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and there he was. Translucent, but not white or ghostly in the illustrative sense, simply half there, half not there. He looked at her, and smiled. Natalia felt a rush of blood to her head, and stumbled backward out of the bathroom, and onto her bed, coming to a seat. She was overwhelmed by emotion, as her mind began to race with thought. Her grandfather chuckled a bit, and went to sit down across from her, on her makeup chair next to her vanity.

"Oh I'm sorry Darlin' where are my manners? I'll let you get dressed." He said, and walked through the wall into the living room.

Natalia sat for a moment, dumbfounded. She thought and remembered how they said ghosts are just recordings now, and nothing special. She tried to remember any time where her Grandpa ever accidentally caught her after a shower and drew a blank. She thought surely, it had to have happened before, that's how it works. She threw on a shirt and some shorts and walked into the kitchen, down the hallway from the living room, and started to panic when she saw him still standing there in the living room, looking out the window.

"It's a beautiful day out today." He said, turning back to her.

Natalia thought of what to say. Her first instinct was to second guess it. To tell it it wasn't real, and to try to push it out of her space of mind, and make it go away. She looked at him, his old wrinkled smile lines curling up his cheeks, his classic smirk matched by his arched brow. It was that same old face he made to her as a child to make her laugh, the one he made to let her know that everything was alright, and that the day was always ready to be seized. She kept telling herself, over and over;

It's not him. It's not him. It's like a record. Just energy. Just another natural phenomena like the Northern Lights.

But it was him. To her.

She had missed him so much. His death hit her like a load of bricks, and here he was, for better or for worse. She thought herself crazy for even thinking of it, much less than doing it, but she did anyway.

"It is a nice day out today isn't it Pop Pop?" She said, with a quiver in her lip, and a budding tear in her eye.

He walked over and sat down at the kitchen table next to her.

"Sure is. They tell me it's gonna be sunny like this all week long." He said, cheerfully.

"Wh... Who tells you?"

"Don't be silly Darlin'."

"The... the weatherman?"

He laughed, and reached over towards and tapped her on the edge of her nose. A gesture he often used when she was young, to let her know to, well, stop being silly. She felt his finger when he touched her. It was cold, but not to the touch. The way a mint feels cold in your mouth, was the only way to describe it.

"Pop pop... why are you here?" She asked.

He smiled.

"What are you doing here? Are you... even real? I don't... I don't understand."

"I know. Things are rough all over aren't they? But you have to sit for a moment and remember to enjoy days like these you know? A lot of people forget to take a moment and really, truly, and actually stop and smell the roses. You know what I mean?"

"Pop pop, I..." She stammered.

"It's okay Darlin'. It always will be. I promise." He said, looking wistful.

Natalia began to well up inside. There was no way he could actually be talking to her.

 It has to all be a recording right,? Pieces? Snippets of conversations past and forgotten? Is this how it worked?

Natalia looked visibly distressed, as tears began to stream down her face.

"You worry too much Darlin'. Gosh I hate to say it, but I gotta get going if I mean to get anything else done today, especially on a fine day like this!" He said.

Natalia noticed how he began to become slightly more translucent, and seemed to be fading away. In a panic, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I love you!" Natalia said, bursting into tears.

"I love you too, you know? Never forget that." He said, arms spread inviting a hug.

"I wont!" She sobbed, as she went in to hug him for the last time, and felt a quick brush of cold all over her body. Not a bad cold, but a soothing, comforting, cooling cold. There was no give though, no body to grab onto, and as she opened her eyes saw she was holding empty air.

Natalia put on her makeup, styled up her hair, picked out her outfit, and grabbed her keys and purse. She was shocked, and emotionally wrung, but inside, a part of her, felt better. Felt closure. Felt right.

As Natalia walked over to put her bag in the trunk of the car, she stopped and saw a small geranium flower growing out of her neighbors yard. She never really noticed it before, and was unsure as to when they planted it. She closed the trunk, and took leaned over to it, and inhaled.

It's scent was floral and sweet.

She thought;

It is a nice day today.

I want this to mean something.

Mean something. Mean SOMETHING.

The words come out, and what the fuck do they mean? To you?

I don't know. I can't. I'm not you.

Sometimes I stay silent because I have too much to say.

Sometimes I say what I can, choosing everything very carefully.

I don't know what it is to speak freely, or say what I'm thinking anymore.

My words don't mean anything.

They don't.

This means nothing.

Ignore it.