Corpse / Small Worlds Chapter Six

Small Worlds
Chapter Six

Vaniah was normally unshakable. But this revelation caused him to quake in fear.

"How could you... but how... why?" he sputtered, his head reeling from all of it.

"I want my world, Gunslinger. I want it now."

A plan formed in his head. While the prophetess was intelligent, and even clairvoyant, she could not see his mind. He would use that to his advantage.

He created the most shocked expression he could muster while silently summoning the voice. Meanwhile, he continued:

"Your goons were right there to beat me up, Prophetess. Why did you need my gun?"

She chuckled to herself. "Perhaps I should not have taken you in. I might have noticed early on that you were dumber even than a shedim."

Vaniah thought: "Alright. See if you can't relay that message, alright?" Then he replied:

"Shedim? Unintelligent? Why would you have hired those whom you had such a low opinion of?"

"Because they are immune to a prophet's gifts. They have helped me kill off any competition of mine. They serve as wonderful little pawns, immune to even the queen's attacks upon their sides. And though they may strike only diagonally, their attacks serve to further the ultimate goal of conquering the board, destroying..."

Vaniah took advantage of her rambling to step away ever so slightly, estimating the trajectory. "And mark my words, Gunslinger, this shan't come to a stalemate! No, it will..." He slowly knelt down, and shouted:

"Prophetess! Please forgive me! I do not care what I must do, but don't take my gun! I will enact any sort of penance you choose if I may merely keep my gun!" And stop listening to this babble, he said to himself.

Grinning, she stepped forward, directly into the enraged shedim'ato barreling towards her.

"Dumb, are we? Ssstupid, are we? I did not come to be insssulted, Prophetess!" Visstor flung her into the void, and grabbed Vaniah. "Quickly, Gunssslinger! We are about to passs a world!"

Visstor jumped off the train, directly into the world. He curled up into a ball, with Vaniah inside. They soon smashed against the ground. The shedim'ato uncurled and wiped boiling water and dirt off of himself.

"So I guess we're even, then?" said Vaniah. Visstor grinned a genuine grin, before punching Vaniah right in the eye and kicking him right between the legs. "Yesss. Asss far asss I am conssserned, Gunssslinger, we are even."