The Journal Of Jonathon Sparoe: Daemons Among Us
Fiction & Literature, Short Stories, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy
| Author: | Jonathon Sparoe | ISBN: | 9781311842350 |
| Publisher: | Jonathon Sparoe | Publication: | April 13, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | Jonathon Sparoe |
| ISBN: | 9781311842350 |
| Publisher: | Jonathon Sparoe |
| Publication: | April 13, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
Jonathon Sparoe's having a hard time adjusting to life. Struggling to find a decent job after coming home from college, Jonathon can only seem to find solace in writing. But the mysterous appearance of a smoky apparition calling itself his "daemon" turns Jonathon's world upside down. What is this creature, and what does it want from him?
Excerpt:
“Awake, sleepy head?” a voice bounced around the room, a ventriloquist’s wet dream as it would seem, for Jonathon could not assume with any clarity where the words were originating from. Yet, despite this auditory deceit, Jonathon could not mistake for even a moment that the words were stemming from the black, cloudy fog clinging to the corner of his ceiling. The shape slid across the grooves along the wooden apex of his room before falling into the air before him, swirling into what Jonathon had imagined a puddle of water would look like suspended in mid-air. Two eyes popped out from its center, huge and widened with a royal blue. And there it was. Just as he had seen in his mind not an hour or so ago: that crooked, slinking smile. Jonathon wanted to cry out, either with fear or surprise, or both for that matter, yet choked as his throat tightened and betrayed him.
The mass before him took notice, and let out a cacophonous roar of laughter that smacked against the inner walls of Jonathon’s head. “Jacky boy, what’s the matter? I thought we’d gone through this already last night?” The shape, creature, whatever this floating blob was before him gloated to Jonathon, and it floated slowly closer towards him, until Jonathon could feel that same feeling he had while reading the piece sitting on his computer. Warmth. Contentment.
For all the fear that he felt, Jonathon’s heart sat still in his chest, quietly beating at a calm and steady pace. Four arms complete with wobbling hands and fingertips crept out of the edges of this creature’s form, and then they wrapped themselves around Jonathon with a strangely gentle embrace. Jonathon tensed at first, and then eased up as he felt a stronger sensation of that pacifying warmth. And even though he was still equally at odds between fits of fear and nervousness, Jonathon’s mind bubbled up with a single thought. It doesn’t feel quite like rubber. More like satin.
“Feel better now, baby?” The creature teased, and before Jonathon could even purse his lips to begin to say, “Who are you?” the creature responded, “Jacky boy. Jacky baby. I’m your daemon. I thought I told you that last night. Geez man, you really need to lay off of that cheeba.”
Jonathon Sparoe's having a hard time adjusting to life. Struggling to find a decent job after coming home from college, Jonathon can only seem to find solace in writing. But the mysterous appearance of a smoky apparition calling itself his "daemon" turns Jonathon's world upside down. What is this creature, and what does it want from him?
Excerpt:
“Awake, sleepy head?” a voice bounced around the room, a ventriloquist’s wet dream as it would seem, for Jonathon could not assume with any clarity where the words were originating from. Yet, despite this auditory deceit, Jonathon could not mistake for even a moment that the words were stemming from the black, cloudy fog clinging to the corner of his ceiling. The shape slid across the grooves along the wooden apex of his room before falling into the air before him, swirling into what Jonathon had imagined a puddle of water would look like suspended in mid-air. Two eyes popped out from its center, huge and widened with a royal blue. And there it was. Just as he had seen in his mind not an hour or so ago: that crooked, slinking smile. Jonathon wanted to cry out, either with fear or surprise, or both for that matter, yet choked as his throat tightened and betrayed him.
The mass before him took notice, and let out a cacophonous roar of laughter that smacked against the inner walls of Jonathon’s head. “Jacky boy, what’s the matter? I thought we’d gone through this already last night?” The shape, creature, whatever this floating blob was before him gloated to Jonathon, and it floated slowly closer towards him, until Jonathon could feel that same feeling he had while reading the piece sitting on his computer. Warmth. Contentment.
For all the fear that he felt, Jonathon’s heart sat still in his chest, quietly beating at a calm and steady pace. Four arms complete with wobbling hands and fingertips crept out of the edges of this creature’s form, and then they wrapped themselves around Jonathon with a strangely gentle embrace. Jonathon tensed at first, and then eased up as he felt a stronger sensation of that pacifying warmth. And even though he was still equally at odds between fits of fear and nervousness, Jonathon’s mind bubbled up with a single thought. It doesn’t feel quite like rubber. More like satin.
“Feel better now, baby?” The creature teased, and before Jonathon could even purse his lips to begin to say, “Who are you?” the creature responded, “Jacky boy. Jacky baby. I’m your daemon. I thought I told you that last night. Geez man, you really need to lay off of that cheeba.”
