Chapter 66: The Muse

Before Stefano the Gnome made it big, he made his living working the graveyard shift at the inn. Many people will wander in, in the dead of night…

Stefano:

As I busy myself drying one of the beer pints with a cloth, I hear the doorbell ring. In comes a woman, with wet hair, and even more drenched cloak. I smile at her, and motion to the drying rune.

"Over there, Miss. Just one copper coin, and you will be dry," I say, and she nods at me. It is the policy of this inn, that no patron is to ever get by the rune wet. I am quite small, and can't be forced to wipe the floor. Not that I haven't done it, before. After all, the graveyard shift gets boring, after a while.

The woman dries off, and then comes to the bar. She slides on a stool, and then looks at me.

"Oh, Stefano, just what are you doing?" Her question surprises me. The fact that she knows my name unnerves me. Does she mean me any harm?

"Excuse me, but do I know you?" I place the pint, which is almost as big as me, down on the counter. She sighs.

"I am your Muse," the name is not something that rings bells for me. I tilt my head to the side, and then blink at her. "The spirit, who comes to you, and gives you your stories."

"Right. I take it, this inn wasn't your first stop, was it?" I ask, as I eye the bottles behind me. No, I won't be serving her anything. She looks as high as a kite already.

"You have to believe me, Stefano. I am your Muse. Just a couple of minutes ago, I tried to whisper to you about the beginning of a short story, but you didn't stop with the blasted pint. This is not what your soul agreed to, when you promised you will be a storyteller!"

"My soul?" I lean over the counter, and shift, so my fingers could be on the panic button. This woman might be insane, and dangerous. I am just a gnome. Even human children could kill me.

"Your soul!" A breeze pushes me away from the panic button, and she makes a grab for me. I roll on the counter, and then wield the pint I have been drying as a mace.

"Stay back," if I need to, I will smash the pint, and use the glass shard as daggers.

"Stefano, this is not what we agreed on," I blink, when I see the flicker. The woman's teeth are to be seen from a hole in her cheek. They are yellow and rotten. I back away, wondering whether if I scream, it will be the last thing I do.

"You were supposed to write 100 books, not 100 short stories!"

"Look, lady. I don't know what you took before you got in here," before I can finish, she floats above the floor. Now, her true form is ghastly.

"You were supposed to give me 100 lives!"

Her scream is shrill. Just why is nobody coming down?

"You owe me 100 lives, Stefano!"

Her split claws reach out for me, and I jump from the counter. Quickly, I run to the back door. This crazy ghost will kill me if I stay.

"One hundred lives!"

A veil snaps around my ankle, and then holds me in the air. She floats to me, and I can see a green miasma coming from her mouth.

"If you don't grant me 100 lives, then you will grant me just one!"

"Look, lady, I don't have a single skipped writing day!" I say, my voice shrill. "I do my best, ok? I even have a couple of people, who come by, so they can listen to my stories. And, I don't remember ever making deals with demons."

"One hundred…" her sour breath wafts over me, and I close my eyes. When I open them, I see that I am laying on top of the counter, and even have drool coming down from my mouth.

"Eh, a dream?" I look around, and then wonder if I won't see the woman who called herself a Muse again, if I squint.

Yet, nothing is out of place. The soft candlelight illuminates the place. The windows are closed, the shutters in place. There aren't even any rain sounds coming from outside.

And yet, when I see it, my blood goes cold. There, on the welcome mat, are two wet prints. With shaking hands, I make it there, and touch the mat. It is indeed wet. Almost as if my dream has not left me, I hear it.

"One hundred lives!"

"Ok, ok. Easy now, no need to get violent. I will begin to write, ok? One chapter per day for something that will end up book length is ok, right, Muse?" I ask the surrounding air. Then, I hear it. More like feel it. Something like a bubbling laughter, and then, melancholy.

Like how a vampire would feel like. I need to get the story of a vampire! That is what the Muse is trying to tell me! Wasn't there that vampire Hero of Ultimate Fate, Sebastian, who is trying to get rid of the remains of the Lich Lord Joe?

Yes, I can write one chapter per day about him, and then place the book next to the weapon rack, one chapter at a time.

After all, what is a book, if it is not read?

The strange dream won't leave Stefano be. Every time he felt tired, he would hear it. The ghostly whisper of his horrible Muse.

"One hundred lives…"

One hundred stories, one hundred lives, one hundred books. And, if Stefano ever doubts that his Muse doesn't mean business then, well, the dreams return.

AN:

Never mind me, just retelling last night's nightmare. Will post something funny next, or maybe not. After all, today is December the 30th, and…

One hundred lives!

… SOS?