This story was done for the writing thread on GonzoPlanet. The restrictions are max 500(ish) words and there is always a jumping off point of either a phrase or a picture. This entry was inspired by the following image:
Dolor seeped through the city streets, his open maw seeking the scents he knew Lacrimae needed. None would see his passing, the minds of humans refused to acknowledge such things, they continued on their way to work, home, to meet with friends. But this did not matter for those Dolor sought were also largely unseen by their fellow humans. Dolor slunk to a halt, his large head turned on it’s side as a scent grew in odur. Eyes focused on the source as Lacrimae stirred upon his back sensing their goal. On the street below, lost in the forest of legs that walked by a man hunkered down, arms wrapped about himself in an attempt to keep out the cold. It had been two days since his last real drink, returning him to the crystal clarity of sobriety. His mind flailed to avoid the memories that sought to surface, his head twitching with each attempt to dodge a synaptic surge. Lacrimae stood up on Dolor’s back and turned her attention upon the man, her eyes grew dark as her mind reached out to him. The man below suddenly stopped his twitching, a calmness drew across him, his mind clearing of all thought save one. The one memory he always fought hardest to bury became his reality. He saw her smile, heard the laughter of his children, days of sunshine rushed by, warmth filled his soul as all the possibilities of a future surged through him. Then he stood in the rain, looking down upon the three fresh graves as friends and family drifted away. Then came the tears mixing with the rain drops on his face bringing their salty taste to his dry cracked lips. Lacrimae shivered atop Dolor the sorrow filling her, her skin becoming luminous, fires began to burn in the darkness of her eyes. The man’s memories flooded into reality as new tears began to flow into his scragged beard, he buried his face into the tattered arm of his thick overcoat the tears mixing with the dirt and the grease of the past years. The pain drained his body of energy, he felt the cold seeping further and further into his bones his mind reducing to a single thought, a thought of sorrow. Finally his body slumped back against the wall he had been huddled against, a final breath wheezed between his lips.
Lacrimae relaxed in her stance, both fire and darkness left her eyes. She settled back down onto Dolors back her eyes closed as if to sleep as single tear ran down her left cheek and dripped onto Dolor’s back. Dolor grunted as he set off, the faintest of scents reached out to him and he began the hunt again to serve his mistress.