Where Worlds Collide (2nd attempt)
((This kind of died and ended the first time, sooo I'm going to try again...))
The surrounding area was dark while at the same time a swirling vortex of colored light. It was like a tunnel, and he stood in the middle, trapped. Even before he looked he knew this was so. Before him was a form he found both terrified and fascinated him at the same time. It resembled a fox, though monstrous and huge, almost demonic. Its fangs showed even with its mouth closed and two tails flailed in the air behind it.
He didn't need to turn to know what was behind him, though he did. There stood a massive flame burning with a shape not unlike the torso of a man, though no true features were there. It spoke in its crackling roar using no words, only emotions and sensations of power and strength but also hunger and need.
Al looked back to the demonic fox as it began to speak in a voice that reverberated off the walls that weren't walls.
"Don't go that way boy. You know what lies that way. You've been there you've passed through. That way will only burn you. Come to me, you have something of mine. Give it back. You can't use it. You don't even want it. Come here. Its time to give it back!"
Both Fox and Flame lept, pouncing. Al froze, there was nowhere to go.
With a jerk he woke and rolled out of bed at the same time. It took him a moment to realize he was still in his apartment. Looking back at the sheets on his bed Al sighed, some were still smoldering. He quickly used the rest of the non-smoldering sheets to smother the other ones then held up the now burnt sheets shaking his head. Small-blackened holes now speckling its surface. Sometimes he wondered why he still used the sheets. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he headed to his bathroom.
“Gonna have to replace those if my parents ever decide to visit.”
Letting the door close behind him he looked up and froze.
* * * * * Back in his room at Troll Spit * * * * *
Al jolted awake then rubbed his hands over his face. It was the same dream again; he’d been having it more and more of late. Each time he could swear he remembered more of it when he woke, but then it always slipped away. Shaking his head he pulled on his clothing before grabbing his brush and heading down Troll Spit’s stairs. As he went he brushed the ruffled fur on his tail. When he stepped into the bars common room he droped the brush and froze.
There they stood, almost mirror images of each other, the two Al’s stared at their own likenesses, for a moment neither moved. The one at the stairs was the first to say anything.
Al 1): “Joe!”
((To those wondering here, the Alphonce Carter from New Haven stepped through the door that was supposed to lead to his bathroom instead connected to Troll Spit. There he met the Al that first entered Troll Spit through a dimensional vortex. Although its not mentioned the Al from New Haven is in his werefox form.
From here on Al 1 is the Al from Troll Spit, Al 2 is from New Haven.))
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Who's bright idea was it to stave off natural selection by putting warning labels onto household items?
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