There are many curses still lingering from the ancient world, in an era when mankind understood that the universe was meant to be understood not as a matter of reason, but through the articles of faith – which is to say, not understood very well at all. It was an era of gods and goddesses, inimitable blessings and unfathomable horrors, artifacts and monsters and, of course, curses.
It is said that of all the curses to color the world in those days, there are few so wondrous and terrible as that of the fiend's tongue. The tales – legends, some – of the mischief and chaos it wrought happily died out in time immemorial.
Had they not, this would have been one of them.
"I can't
believe
that asshole!" Erika exclaimed as she hung up her phone. "This is the third time Austin's stood me up in the past two weeks! Always with some bullshit excuse. Last weekend he said he got called into work, but I drove by his house and saw his car in the driveway. I called him on it and he claimed he was car-pooling, which he has
never
done before. Then Monday he said he had a thing at his church, but I think he was playing poker with his idiot friend Tyler – his wallet was flush with cash the next day for sure."
The girls were walking around in the uppermost reaches of the campus library, where Carina, Erika's best friend and roommate, was picking up some primary sources for her master's thesis. Erika was tall and gangly, having inherited all of her father's height but none of her mother's curves; Carina was short and rather pudgy, only spared a ghastly pale complexion by her Latin heritage. Despite their opposite appearances, they were alike in that neither one could have carried the stack of heavy tomes by themselves. Erika was quietly somewhat envious of Carina's successes, but she was quite a student herself. This time next year, she'd be working on her own master's degree.
"What was it this time?" Carina asked as she picked up a book in a language Erika couldn't even guess at.
"Migraine, he claims. Except he didn't bring it up until I reminded him he was supposed to meet us for dinner, and then suddenly his voice got all quiet and whiny. I swear, half the stuff that comes out of his mouth is pure bullshit!"
"I don't know why haven't dumped him already, Erika," the stout Latina replied as she walked with her friend to a dusty and unused corner of the library. There was a statue there in the Gothic fashion, something that looked like a gargoyle but with a serpentine tongue that stretched nearly a foot out of its mouth. Creepy thing, that.
"I know, I know, you always say that when I vent to you," Erika said with a sigh, sitting down on the edge of the pedestal atop which sat the statue.
"Because every time you mention Austin's name, you're venting about him. I just don't get why you put up with it." She set down her armload of books atop the one Erika had already dropped.
"I know, I know, but... you know how I like a project. He just seems so fixable! Like, everything is so close to being right. He's not romantic, but he's flirty. He's not hot, but if he put in some effort into dressing nice, maybe hit the gym a little and work off the waist line, he could be pretty attractive. He's not great in the sack, but he tries, usually. He's not smart, but he manages decent grades. I just know if I push him a little, I can turn him into a winner. He's kinda cute," she insisted. "Sometimes."
"See? Ten seconds ago you were furious with him, and now you're defending him – on the basis of his mediocrity."
"Hey now, he's better than average. Though to hear him tell it, that'd be a grave insult," Erika said, leaning her head back wearily on the extended tongue. "Never has an unkind word to say about himself."
"Ugh. Erika, just dump that dipshit story topper already," she said, readying her laptop for note-taking.
"I don't want to break up with him – yet, at least. I don't know, maybe I do. I'm just sick of his lines. I just... I just wish he'd speak the truth, ya know? Just one damn day where there was none of the usual b.s. flowing out of his mouth." She twitched, looking behind her – had the statue
moved
? She shuddered at its creepy expression, and moved to a nearby chair. With her back to it.
"Anyway, let's buckle down. You have a thesis to write, and I have my own boat-load of studying to get to." The girls opened their books, and put themselves to their studies.
Meanwhile, in Fitzpatrick's sports bar not far off-campus, Austin was returning from the bathroom, where he'd fielded a call from his girlfriend Erika. He sat back down opposite his idiot friend Tyler with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, buddy – old ball and chain calling, didn't want her to know I was hitting up the bars."
"Yeah, yeah – Erika calls like four times a day, man, and texts twice as often. Bright as she is, you'd think she'd have figured out when to give it a rest at some point."
Their waitress brought them their opening round of drinks. She was cute, for a girl a little on the heavy side, with the generous helping of T&A God gave those girls to make up for their other short-comings. Austin eyed her openly, and she smiled back in a banal fashion. "If you guys need anything, just flag me down, m'kay? I'm Melody."
"Melody – lovely name for a lovely girl," Austin said. This wasn't really true – or at least, depending on how one felt about the name, it was at best half-true. She was wearing a top at least two sizes too small for her, and a skirt that was even worse. A serious muffin top was impossible to miss between the two, and her legs looked like a slightly tanned version of cottage cheese.
"Thanks," Melody said disingenuously before disappearing quickly enough that the road runner would've been envious. Apparently even girls like her didn't want to get hit on by random guys at the bar. Austin was decidedly the better-looking of the two, even if he had a bit of a young-guy version of a dad bod going on; Tyler was just doughy and homely through and through, though at least he didn't hit on every girl with a functioning pussy that he came across like Austin did.
"You know, I think I totally tapped that ass freshman year," his friend boasted. "I was pretty drunk, but I remember the good parts, at least. Girl did stuff you wouldn't believe. Wouldn't mind another piece of that."
Tyler sighed. "See? This is what I don't get – you're dating this Erika chick, but here you are dodging her and hitting on waitresses. Sure, Smelly Melly there is probably a 3, but Erika's not really any cuter, man – a total 4, at best. Cut her loose already."
Austin made a face that expressed just how dense he considered Tyler. "Dude, whatever. Maybe Erika doesn't radiate hotness, but that's just how she dresses most of the time, all those baggy sweaters and loose jeans and all."
"Yeah, because she's like eighty pounds soaking wet, ass barely visible and boobs nonexistent, and she's trying not to look like it," Tyler said.
For a fraction of a second, too small a span of time to even be called an entire instant, there was a shimmer in the air, a red bolt-of-lightning-in-miniature that raced across the room and ended in Austin's mouth as he opened it to take a swig of his beer. It arrived and entered and pulsed and faded all before anyone could even notice it had happened.
But it
had
happened. Be sure of that.
Austin, as oblivious as anyone to what had just transpired, just laughed at his buddy's cluelessness. "You just don't get it, do you man... she just dresses like that because she doesn't like the attention, man."
Tyler arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Attention? What the fuck attention are you talking about?"
"I swear I'd told you this before – Erika does
