The great dead seas of Mars did not stir on this bright and very hot day. The ruddy sands did not move a centimeter. The sky was a gorgeous expansion of nothingness. Cyril sat on a protruding rock that made an excellent chair. In his hands he held a thin paperback and he was staring intensely at it. He shook his head and flipped the page idly. The title of the book was The Martian Chronicles. “Ah, Bradbury, if only I could read you.” Friendly reminder that Cyril no longer had any eyes to speak of and thus could not read a book! “SCREECH!” Cyril screeched as he threw the book onto the ground and teleported in a frustrated manner to his home planet of Heaven.
“I AM FRUSTRATED AT MY LACK OF EYEBALLS!” He screamed to a nest full of Oneiroi. Everyone fucking lost it and a sea of Oneiroi suddenly shifted and screeched. All the Oneiroi’s faces were contorted in anger and panic and inevitability, all except for one. One brave Oneiroi stepped up to Cyril and stood firm.
“I am sorry for your lack of eyeballs.” The Oneiroi said calmly. Cyril gave a start and stared at the Oneiroi even though he didn’t have eyes. Cyril didn’t have eyes is what I meant. I didn’t mean to say the Oneiroi had no eyes. It had eyes. Two of them. They were both a lovely black color. But back to the story now.
“I am sorry for your lack of eyeballs.” The Oneiroi repeated, thinking Cyril had not heard at first.
“What? Oh… um… it’s alright. I guess. I mean I can still sort of see things via ki sense” Cyril said slowly, confused. He of course was lying and couldn’t see the rest of the demons maneuvering themselves behind Cyril’s back. The tricky demons stopped, scared that Cyril could actually see them.
“Really? Prove it! Why don’t you like, I don’t know, find the dragon balls we stole?” said the clever Oneiroi who was totally calling his bluff. The Oneiroi behind Cyril glared daggers at the clever Oneiroi (who would actually be put down later for detaching himself from the hive mind like that.)
“Oh… um… sure.” Cyril removed his dragon ball radar and walked around, listening to the beeps.
The Clever Oneiroi looked smug and communicated with the rest that Cyril was bluffing and couldn’t see shit. The rest looked pretty angry at the Clever one for being different, but nonetheless snuck back deep into the caves where they would set up traps and ambushes for the blind Cyril.
“And though I walk in the shadow of the valley of death,” Cyril said dramatically, well aware of his weak power level and the masses of Oneiroi all around him, unseen, “I will fear no evil, for I have a spaceship set on high alert.” And it was true. All around Cyril could be seen a faint, glowing, pulsing aura. This aura was his ship getting ready to transport him somewhere else as soon as any danger arises. So Cyril just kept on walking and the Oneiroi just kept plotting in their dark holes.
Cyril’s ship randomly took him to the other side of the planet, only, it wasn’t random at all. An Oneiroi had lunged from the darkness with its sharp claws, ready to rip of Cyril’s very important vital organs (organs that are vital for people who were unaware of what vital organs are) and feast on them, but Cyril’s ship had saved in the nick of time. Good on you, Cyril’s space ship! Good job, Cyril’s space ship without a name. Cyril thought he should really name it. What would he name it though? Did it really matter? Cyril decided it didn’t matter if the ship had a name or not so he would continue to just call it “Cyril’s Ship.”
“Thank you, Cyril’s Ship. Thank you for saving my life. Now, if you would please, take me directly to where the Oneiroi are hiding my dragon balls.” Cyril asked politely. Cyril’s ship gathered around Cyril and took him directly to the spot where the dragon balls were. “Thank you ship.” He sighed. He picked them up.
Word Count: 703
