Page 109 of Psycho Beasts

The endless war it has been read,

But fate demands we all must fight,

There is no choice the gods are dead.”

Abruptly, the maid staggered against the door and looked around in confusion. “Miss, did you need anything?”

“A bullet through the brain.” I groaned.

Aran dragged her hands through her short hair. “Answers to the questions of mystical powers and bigger forces that plague civilizations.”

The maid looked back and forth between us.

“Um, I’ll bring another towel.” She ran out of the room and tripped over the hall rug in her haste.

Silence stretched.

“Should we talk about it?” Aran asked after a few minutes.

I considered banging my head through the wall.

“What’s there to say? ‘In dark light’ is super clear, and the good news is we have war and fighting to look forward to, and oh yeah, the gods are dead.”

Aran nodded at me and slowly relaxed. She grabbed the pipe and took a long drag.

We were on the same page—ignore the weird poem that no one wanted to hear and pretend like it had never happened.

And do drugs.

They were always the answer.

Everyone knew that.

“We should talk about something else,” Aran said, her fingers shaking as she struggled to hold the pipe.

Nodding, I turned to the window. “Wonderful weather in this realm. Do you think it will rain tomorrow?”

“Most likely.”

A head popped into the room.

I screamed.

Aran jumped.

The maid opened her mouth, jaw distending unnaturally as once again a male voice boomed out a poem:

“One must join and raise the rear,

Other must break and bring the kings,

One must grow and lose the fear,

Other must die and rise with wings.”

When the voice stopped, the maid leaned forward like a marionette doll and slammed her head into the wall.

She fell to her knees, then hastily stumbled to her feet while looking around in confusion. “Did I bring the towel?”

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