Tag Archive | Troy Wednesdays

Troy Wednesdays 21.2.18 Extinction

Extinction

It had come to pass, that the sun’s plan for his people had not failed. But all was at an end. It was the day of extinction for the Race on this world as the sun grew large and red in the sky, taking up most of the horizon as it became bloated and hungry.

Its radius had already swallowed the inner planets, and this world was next. The solar shielding was collapsing, the only time bought for its survival, long since paid with ancient technology, expired. The wall of plasma and radiation raced closer, its surface cooled, though that mattered little to the planet as it rushed outward.

So, tentacle in tentacle, they faced the fire, as their world was consumed by the dying might of the sun, no more to be a land of songs and glory but only dust and death, the last vestiges of its spirit already spread among the stars . . . .

. . . To remember the world and the Race that once was!

Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017

The Hungry Visitor

It was three in the morning as Daryl chanted the last words of the incantation, sure that this time he would summon a mighty agent to avenge the loss of his job.

Fire him from work, would they?!

The visitor stepped through the lattice of swirling green vortices into this world. It then reached behind itself, toward the opening, and closed the portal behind it.

Swirling green vortices spun, faded, and blinked out as the figure approached, claws glistening with slime and feathery moth-antennae flailing, its insect-like eyes adjusting to the light, as if the illumination was painful, causing it to wince at first upon entering the room.

Daryl got a good, long look at it, as it shambled toward him.

Grabbing him, it gestured again, this time opening another gate, and, dragging him along screaming, strode toward it, anticipating.

The visitor was hungry, and this would be its most recent meal in a long, long time. As it walked through its gate the visitor thought to itself. Why is it always morons who summon me? Once, I was called forth by some idiot in the 1920s who wanted to become a millionaire. Another, by this imbecile in the 1970s who wanted immortality!
Sigh . . .

An ultra-terrestrial’s work is never done. But on the other hand, slow-witted summoners are quite tasty when braised in a little blue wine sauce!

Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy

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Troy Wednesdays 14.2.18 Transfiguration

Transfiguration

There was something wrong with his skin, seriously wrong. Oh, not its shade, as his usual olive tones were the same as always, and no signs of his allergy were apparent The wrongness came instead from its structure.

He stared disbelievingly at the thick, spiky hairs which had apparently grown from his arms overnight, like those of some monstrous insect. He had thought back to the drug ampoule he had been stabbed with only the night before. It contained a new nano-drug using DNA taken from beetles, designed to transpose with human DNA and enact the changes not only genetically, but in phonotypical trait-expression as well.

It restructured his body over time with its army of injected nano-bots, like a sadistic horde of tiny surgeons with instructions to alter him completely, or put another way, to rebuild an engine while it ran.

And it wasn’t just the hairs, but the increasing hardness of his skin, as he was growing a chitinous shell from his fingertips, already beginning to spread across his hands and wrists, with no end in sight. It grew even as he looked at it in horror.

He looked desperately about, to try to bandage his hands and arms to hide his deformity. But the room was empty. They had locked him in a cell, he suddenly realized. They knew this would happen, and were using him as a guinea pig! They knew!

He looked about and struggled to his feet. He screwed up the courage to look at himself in the mirror at the other end of his cell. Oddly, his vision had fragmented into something grainy, with multiple images, and as it continued, he looked closer, trying to focus.

And so looking, he saw himself in full.

And he screamed.

Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy

Meet Troy David Loy Guest Author of Agnishatdal and Indie Adda!

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy

Troy Wednesdays 7.2.18 The Recognition

The Recognition

I recognized it instantly, the face unforgettable. It was once my friend, now made monstrous yet with unmistakable resemblance to the human being it once was. Tentacular limbs sprouted from its neck and torso, and its mouth gaped open and shut as though a fish passing water through its gills.

But friend though it once was, it seemed not to recognize me, and its dull eyes bulged outward, clearly resembling more those of a goat than anything human.

Then those eyes suddenly fixated on me, and suddenly its mouth stopped gaping as its lips moved. It seemed to know once again who I was, in a horrid instance of clarity, as it tried to form words, mouthing something . . .

And then it spoke my name as it pulled itself toward me along the basalt floor, as a tear formed from one of its eyes while the mouth opened its many jaws to feed.

Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy

Troy Wednesdays 31.1.18 the simian

The Simian

He said little in response, only a deep grunt to express his distaste for my slight human physique, not properly hand-walking as he, nor as hairy, and definitely not as muscled as he, this silverback just escaped from his torturers.

But distaste or not, he offered me a tuber that he had foraged from the rainforest floor, and motioned to the lake nearby as though instructing me to wash it before eating, a behavior he had picked up from the other, more wild gorillas, after he was freed. Later, I helped him start a fire in a secluded spot. So I could teach him how to cook what he foraged.

As a primatologist I was required to keep tabs on him while he acclimated to the wild. The criminal sect that boosted his intelligence and tried to exploit his strength for their own purposes would still be looking for him, and me. So I kept watch over him, armed and ready, looking out for poachers.

This gorilla was almost unique, different to his wild fellows, and quite intelligent by even the prejudiced standards of humans.

He would be one of the harbingers of a new species, he, among the first of his kind. And it was my job to ensure his survival.

Copyright © Troy David Loy, 2017

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy

Troy Wednesdays 24.1.18 Ghosted

Ghosted

The Professor sat in his recliner, waiting. His pipe alight, rings of smoke curled from it as he puffed away. He was waiting for a ghost this night, in the newly refurbished building, and all preparations had been made for this moment. The clock struck thirteen. He heard the drip, drip, of water, as a spectral puddle formed on the floor, and a translucent figure rose from it, the spirit of the girl who had been brutally murdered in that spot only five years before.

The killer had never been found, and the case had gone cold, so the Professor was determined to solve it before it was finally closed.

The spirit’s face was covered by long bangs, a dull glow of eyes beneath shining through the soaked, dripping strands of spectral hair.

“Hello, Sunitha.” The Professor began.“I’m here to help. Care to talk? You’ve had something terrible done to you, and I’m here to set things right. I’m ready. Tell me your story.”

Sunitha’s spirit approached him in labored steps, dripping spectral water, water that disappeared as it struck the floor beyond the puddle she emerged from. She held out waterlogged fingers and pressed them against the Professor’s temples, his eyes closed so as to clearly see what she would be “saying” in his mind. Images flashed from one scene to the next as Sunitha’s murder was told from her own perspective, and finally, as she was dumped into the pool near the house, now filled with concrete after her lifeless body was found by authorities. At one point, there was a clear look at her killer’s face, and the Professor was skilled at mnemonics, easily coming up with a
means of recalling it for what would happen next. Sunitha’s spirit removed her fingers from his temples as the visions faded, and her hands moved to her sides, silent and unmoving, still dripping luminescent water. He recalled a name in Sunitha’s vision, the name of her killer as well as his face. She knew him.

The Professor set to the task of finding her killer, still at large since escaping
confinement only days before her murder that five years ago. A thirty-minute Internet search at the Professor’s workspace, and access to satellite data by Web, and it was done! The suspect had been convicted of previous charges of assault with deadly weapons and murder, and sentenced to several life terms of imprisonment. And now it was known where he was hiding, in a safe-house only an hour’s drive from here. The Professor was already on the phone with police, when Sunitha’s spirit descended into her spectral pool and vanished.

She was there before the police arrived.

The suspect was preparing a meal in a kitchen of the safe-house subbasement when he heard the drip, drip, drip of water on the floor behind him. Thinking it leaky pipes upstairs, he cursed, and turned to look, turning pale as he saw Sunitha’s spirit, her eyes glowing blue embers beneath her bangs as she rose from the floor, her hands silently reaching for him as he tripped while trying to back away from her. He had no chance to get up and run as her hand reached into his chest, and he screamed his last while he died from a massive coronary, collapsing lifeless to the floor.

Back at the old house, Sunitha rose from the floor one last time to bid the living world farewell. She stood before the Professor, bangs parted, as her lips silently formed words, her last, before she descended one last time into the puddle and went to her final rest:
She said, “Thank you.”

Troy David Loy ©2017

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy

Troy Wednesdays 17.1.18 The Princess and the Wood Part 3

The Princess and the Wood
(Part 3)

The Princess sat in the Parliament of the Bright Court, as the Fey conferred on the best way to end their war with the Unseelie Court of Netherhill. The meeting had gone on for over an hour.

The dryad had found a gemstone from the beggar’s box, glittering with an evil light, tucked away in the sleeve of the Princess’s blouse. That was how the Fey knew she was there before rescuing her from the Land Kelpie. Its light had died, the stone now useless to finding her. Only sight or other ordinary senses could pick up her presence. The Princess politely refused all offers of food or drink, as she knew something of Faerie, and was aware that she would be bound to this land forever by partaking of sustenance, never to return to the mortal world.

Parliament was waiting for the High Queen Andromeda to attend and preside over the meeting, when a visibly flustered gnome, who announced,“The High Queen has been taken from us by trickery! She is gone from her chambers and cannot be found!” The wizened gnome seemed shaken, his voluminous beard reaching nearly to his knees, his spectacles slightly askew, and his belt was loaded with a collection of tools and instruments that had clearly seen better days. His blue felt cap topped his balding head. He looked as though he was a survivor of one too many incidences of exploding or malfunctioning widgets in some out of the way laboratory.

“I will go to find her.” The Princess volunteered. “As the only mortal in this room, and with the gem removed, the Unseelie will be unable to find me by enchantment or charm.” Parliament was silent momentarily, then a faun about two rows of seats to the left of her said,“If you do this, we shall be in your debt, human.” “We will help you get there!” Piped a group of kobolds, their high-pitched voices almost comical, though the Princess refrained from laughing or otherwise showing amusement.

“Let’s do this then. There’s no telling what those fiends are doing to her while she’s in their hands!” The gnome had gathered his wits, and now looked much more collected than a moment ago. “I have just the means of getting us there! Tell me, O Princess, have you ever travelled by airship before?”

To be continued
Troy David Loy ©2017

Troy David Loy is an eternal student, a writer, and blogger owned by two cats, Ricky and Eccles. He is co-author with Miss Sharmishtha Basu of two published books, and solo author of three books on Amazon for Kindle, with a fourth book on the way.

He lives with his family and values his friends, family, and the flourishing and the well-being of his species in dangerous times.

He seeks one overarching goal: to help make the world a better place in his own tiny, drop-in the- ocean way, one piece of fractal artwork, essay, or story at a time. He battles the Forces of Darkness™ from his secret volcano lair in Virginia as Troythulu while his eldritch tentacled servitors from beyond time and space keep the lab in good condition.

He may be found online at:
https://kestalusrealm.wordpress.com
https://troythulu.blogspot.com
on Tumblr at https://troythulu.tumblr.com
and on Twitter, @Troythulu
His Amazon author page is at: https://www.amazon.com/author/troyloy