The monster’s lair was decorated nicely, not loudly, not too minimally either. “Love this lamp,” she said.
It was the size of a small cat, lacked any fur, and badly wanted out of the damn box.
When the living room was redone they found the strangest box behind one of the walls.
“If you reach into the box, I’ll give you a dollar”, he smiled.
“When the ride ends you’ll be asked to give a small donation. Something personal. Something that contains DNA.”
When they got to the bottom of the stairs the fetid air of the basement overwhelmed them.
Under the table they found a new tiny world, they would be worshipped as gods.
When he was called to the castle he brought only the box.
He picked up the drink. It was foamy and acrid. The designs on the top were of mathematical formula he didn’t understand.
They saw it emerge through the ferns. It was tall, covered with silky white hair, and it carried a tiny version of itself.
“That box wasn’t here before,” he said. “Are you sure? Absolutely sure?” she asked.
He replaced his face with something else, something better, something that wasn’t made of meat.
It sounded enough like a crying baby to raise the hairs on the back of her neck.
Tripping over the protrusion, he lingered for a moment trying to understand the shape and color.
For several days they waited at the bottom of the well. It was almost time.