The Disc of Abrasax originally appeared in a fiction created for a previous Featured Creature post, The Night Thing. Although unnamed at that time, I knew the disc was important and would appear again. In the image here we have the disc as it appeared at the end of The Night Thing. The following story is what happened to the disc and Ricky since we saw them last.
The Dreams of Ricky Barrett
Ricky woke screaming.
Bat wings and a panther's maw came at him. He flailed against the darkness, pushing away from himself and gasping for air. He hit the edge of the nightstand with his wrist, upsetting its contents. His whole arm hummed with a dull pain and jerked back involuntarily. The darkness rang with the splinter crack of breaking glass. Fumbling, he found the lamp and managed to turn on the light.
It took him several moments to realize he was in his own bed. Alone. The room came into focus: paneled walls, dime store curtains, low ceilings. Aunt Ida's spare trailer. Slowly his breath returned. The sheets were soaked through with sweat. He peeled them away and stood up. As he moved, a thin line of red striped his arm. He glanced at the nightstand covered in broken glass and the glinting sliver protruding from his palm.
In the bathroom, he cringed at his reflection. Red eyed, furry, and pale, the zombie in mirror cringed back at him. He hoped he didn't need stitches...again. He flung open the medicine cabinet and pulled out alcohol and some band aids. Running the water until it was hot, he gently pulled the shard free. The water turned pink for a bit, but the cut was clean and small. No stitches. He placed a band aid firmly over the cut.
He closed the cabinet stared sadly back at the mirror zombie. There were dark circles beneath the eyes and the eyes themselves were red with exhaustion. The unkempt fuzz covering the cheeks had grown into a patchy beard. Ricky's face and neck tingled from sleeplessness. He stared at the mirror until it began to fade out in a cloud of grey and the zombie was gone. Ricky sobbed.
He pushed himself away from the mirror and returned to the bedroom, sitting at the foot of the bed. His head throbbed painfully. He cradled his face in his unwounded hand and massaged his temples until the tears stopped. Then like a sleepwalker, he rose and moved to the chest of drawers, opening the top drawer and pulling out a tightly folded towel. He lifted it gently and placed it on the bed.
He took the edge of the towel and gingerly folded it back. He slowly repeated the unfolding until the towel lay completely open. At its center was an ancient metallic disk embossed with runes and a chimera figure with the head of a rooster. He stared blankly at the medallion. He'd examined it many times since that night and each time he came away with same singing urgency that had compelled him to take it in the first place. The disc must be hidden. The disc must be kept safe!
To Be Continued