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Head Over Heels
A love story, with a twist.
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written as a Blitz prize for @kintsugi for the prompt "blacephelon"
A love story, with a twist.
.
.
written as a Blitz prize for @kintsugi for the prompt "blacephelon"
NOT ELIGIBLE FOR BLITZ POINTS
“ . . . And just where do you think you’re all going, hm? Haven’t you heard it's dangerous out there?
“Now, don’t you roll your heads at me. I know what I’m talking about. Shall I tell you a true tale, told to me by my own grand-progenitor? I warn you, though, it is not for the faint of spirit. Perhaps it is not fit for little polyps like yourselves.
“Well, well, if you insist! Gather round then, little ones.
“Where to begin? My grand-progenitor was, above all else, a dreamer. When swirling portals opened in the sky, she would gambol about under them, imaging strange worlds. At last she could contain her curiosity no longer and hurtled herself through.
“The world where she fell was indeed strange. The land was under the sway of a mighty sky-god. When it slept, the land was tolerably safe to traverse, but when it woke, all were blinded and burned. The most populous creatures on this world were worshipers of the sky-god. So fanatical was their devotion that they endured its horrible radiation. It is no surprise, then, that they were charred and featureless.
“My grand-progenitor was dismayed by the hellish world she had found herself in, but she did not abandon her dreams. Until at last, during one of the sky-god’s regular periods of rest, she stumbled upon something extraordinary: a massive cavern of white and red, spangled with gold light. The charred creatures were drawn to it too, but my grand-progenitor paid them little heed. For her attention had been seized by a new being, one that was altogether unique.
“It wove and danced among the charred creatures, but was not one of them. Three shapely horns curved off its head, each one capped with a golden sphere that jangled with its every movement. Its body flashed with the most intricate markings—we consider someone a real head-turner if they’ve got more than two colors on their chest, but this being flaunted more colors than you could count, a truly dizzying array. But its most remarkable feature had to be its face, where a full and luscious red stud swelled at the center.
“My grand-progenitor could not take her gaze off this alluring vision. In fact, she fell in love then and there.
“Her adoration only grew when she watched the being prance and caper through the cavern. It was agile, light-footed, and limber, skipping through the air. My grand-progenitor knew that there was no other one for her.
“She waited until her beloved was alone. Then, with adolescent shyness, she began the motions of a courtship dance. She did not expect to win her love right away, of course. Her beauty, her solitary blue and yellow stripes, paled in comparison with its own. In time, she hoped, her devotion would make up for her lack of physical appeal.
“But my grand-progenitor had underestimated her charms. She had scarcely taken off her head to begin her courtship dance, when her beloved flung up its arms and began to profess its reciprocal affection. Of course, she could not understand its strange language. But the ardor in its voice was unmistakable.
“Hardly daring to believe it, my grand progenitor seized her love in her arms, where it began to twirl and twist most suggestively. Flushed at its eagerness, my grand-progenitor resolved to set off for home at once. She was beside herself, her mind flooded with the heady glow of passion—so much so that she failed to realize the sky-god was beginning to wake.
“When she finally noticed the changing sky, my grand-progenitor was stricken with dread. Hurriedly, she sought for shelter, but all around her the land was flat yellows and blues, with no cover to be seen. As she hesitated, her lover wiggled from her grasp. She could see that it was also apprehensive and opened her mouth to reassure it.
“What I tell you next, little ones, is precisely what my grand-progenitor told me.
“Her lover faced her in unmoving silence—and, suddenly, began to strip off its skin. It slid off like the peel of an over-ripe fruit, revealing its charred organs. Then, it sprang forward, vanishing into the blue gully that surrounded them. And when it rose, children, it had no face!
“Yes—its head was still on its body, but there was no longer a face upon it. Gone was the smooth white, the winsome purple stars and triangles, the alluring red stud. Nothing remained but a charred and expressionless viscera.
“Once more, it began to speak, but this time, my grand-progenitor knew better than to mistake its incantation for a love song. For she finally understood that in her folly and naivety, she had been bewitched by a stealer of shapes and forms. If she let it, it would take her own face and skin next.
“She fled. Around her the sky-god was waking and the radiation in the air was strengthening, but she knew she could not stop now. So she ran, as she had never run before, as the radiation bit and scoured her. How long she ran, I cannot say, for she could not remember. But at last she saw the portal in the distance. She flung herself into it, and it closed behind her, not a moment too soon!
“My grand-progenitor was lucky. Her legs ached and her skin burned, but she still had her face.
“Yes, the lands beyond our world are strange and cruel, children. But you will keep on the right path if you remember this: beauty is only skin deep. And you should never trust anyone who holds onto their head.”
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