Bottled Abyss Read Online Free Page A

The bottle will be empty again, sure enough.”
    “Without a River what happens now if a soul passes with the coin of Nyx? That could create a spiritual evolution that might restore Her, as we have been.”
    “You don’t miss Nyx?”
    “You are insane to even ask that, Charon. We were nothing more than organs in the loathsome digestive system She devised to stand separate from the other Gods.”
    “Forgive me. But are you so angry to have a use again?”
    “We were promised peace.”
    “But not silence,” the Ferryman mumbled. “Not eternal numbness.”
    The two college guys walked out chuckling, large soft drinks in their hands. The one named Devon gave the Ferryman a nod of thanks. His nose flared and his face pinched a little as though a bee had stung him in the eye.
    He could smell the Fury too. It was working .
    When the two were out of sight, the Ferryman lowered his voice, “Enjoy your vengeance, my old friend.”
    “This vengeance isn’t justified; the circumstance has turned me into a fiend that exacts justice for Stealing Death. That poor fool who accepted the coin has no knowledge of his crime.”
    “Look at the company he keeps. The morally corrupt are more valuable.”
    “There is NO RIVER!” The creature’s breath was hot on the Ferryman’s neck. “And even if there was, you were never chosen to judge.”
    “It seems things have changed.”
    “Don’t you ever think of doing this again!”
    The Ferryman swallowed hard. “You have no power over me.”
    The Ferryman stood there in the parking lot, just the whooshing sounds of the freeway filling the space of a moment. He expected something terrible to happen now, speaking out of turn as he had, but the truth was the truth. They were both different creatures now after that implosion of the old life, and every moment would be a new self discovery.
    “Why did you really do this?” asked the Fury.
    “I—don’t expect you to understand.”
    “Tell me.”
    The Ferryman idly ran his thumb over the rough wood grain of his oar. “I had to weigh the value of another soul passing. That was my life for so long…all I ever knew. I thought you would understand that this opportunity might take thousands of years to happen again.”
    “My estimate says you have three days to enjoy this world, Charon. If you use the waters of the bottle again, I will find you before you give away another coin.”
    The Ferryman smiled. “You better, because if I do, you will be as you are now, my servant.”
    The atmosphere lightened. The smell retreated. The Fury was gone.
    The Ferryman went on, past the overhead lights at the gas pumps, treading into darkness. He talked well enough but he didn’t plan on using the bottle again. It was indeed dangerous to invite Nyx back, but he enjoyed seeing the Fury squirm inside all of that wasted power.
    Then again, he expected that overgrown fool with the dog to come back to steal the bottle. Unlike the Fury, mortals could scarcely see such power and leave it for waste. Let him try. Charon was not fully restored but he wasn’t feeble either. That big oaf would no doubt need healing after their clash. Of course he would oblige the man. All it would cost was one coin. That would be a pleasant way for the Ferryman to extend his stay another three days.
    Life was cheap, after all.
    He dreamed about what the Fury must be doing to that college student. He dreamed about the bottle. He dreamed about the coins it would give him. He dreamed about the salty embrace of his dead mother. A thrill went through him and the night air outside was delightful on his parchment skin.
         

      

    FURY

    Glad to be away from that smell outside the store, must have been a backed up sewer—backed up with what though? Rotting cherries, apples and cinnamon?

    Say goodbye to Phil down the road from the AM PM and wonder if I’ll see him in Spanish class again since he’s missed the last five times—weird dude, probably won’t get all