Friday, July 18, 2014

Intus Opaca, Part Five

"I'm gonna be a guard, y'know. And a husband. I got a letter 'n everything. I bet my girlfriend is awesome."

"I'm sure."

"Girlfriends have boobs, right? I like boobs. Not mom's boobs, of course, 'cause that'd be so weird. You don't like your mom's boobs, right?"


"Have you had a girlfriend before? They're great, I'm told. You get to have sex with 'em. My dad tells me sex is fantastic. He is so damned proud of me, you don't even know. I can lift more rocks than Robert, 'cause Robert is a wuss who only likes to cook, and if you think about it that kinda rhymes - "

Balancing three mugs between his fingers, face red with irritation, the innkeeper pointed at the front door of his establishment. "Out. Out. Ye're fuckin' annoying."

"But I have a room - "

"Get out or I ram these up yer nose, lad." Huffing, the innkeeper smashed one of the cups against a table. It left a sizable indent in the wood. "Ye can have yer room when ye're talked the fuck out."

"Oh. Well, I guess I could use a walk - "

Punt. Slam.

Retrieving his wide-brimmed hat from the heap of manure by the front door of the inn, Dragomir sighed. I talk too much, don't I? Blabbermouth. Doesn't he get that I'm just nervous? That's what happens when you're on the road for the first time, y'know. You get nervous. 'specially when you're off to meet your wife. Man, I bet she's hot. Girlfriend to wife, within five minutes of meeting -

An old woman trying to get at the door kicked at Dragomir's leg. "You! Day-dreamin' idjit! Out of the path! I need te use the loo!"

Leaning back against the door, Dragomir smiled up at her. "Well, heck, ma'am, you could be like me and go pee outside instead! The fresh air gets between your bits, and it just feels so nice - "

Punt. Dragomir had to admire an old woman strong enough to punt him.

Picking himself up a second time and dusting off his clothes, Dragomir stretched. A warm breeze passed beneath the brim of his hat, lightly toasting his nose. His face wrinkled at first, but he decided he liked the heat and smiled instead. Tawdry thoughts of dallying with a dainty, kind, buxom mistress kept his spirits afloat.

Leaving the inn, Dragomir walked down onto the dirt road, jingling the change in his pockets. He enjoyed the sound of four or five coins rubbing together. It was the sound of wealth, more wealth than he'd ever possessed, the first portion of a dowry that would see him across the Indy Plains to his new home. He couldn't remember the name of the castle - it seemed to change every time his father brought it up in conversation - but he was sure that any castle where he worked must be an awesome castle.

"Clink, clink, clink," he mumbled, the words slowly breaking into a happy, discordant tune. "Clink, clink. Money. Gonna... gonna eeeeaaaarn a lot of moneeeeyyyy... best guard eveeeeer, that's meeeee..."

Dragomir sang as he walked. He sang for nearly an hour, repeating his good fortunes to every farmer and wayfarer he chanced upon. Some attempted to excuse themselves politely, and failed; most yelled at Dragomir to leave them alone, and failed; one old tanner hit Dragomir with a rock. Dragomir retrieved and threw the rock so hard that it sheered through a nearby tree and disappeared over the horizon. His point made, Dragomir sang some more.

Why shouldn't I be happy? Dragomir thought, tipping his hat at the old man when the latter faked a heart attack and rushed off to find help. I'm out of the house. I'm free. I love mom 'n dad 'n all, and Robert's okay, but I'm free. I can be an adult, get a house, do something other 'n picking rocks out of the ground all day... life. I've got a life!

He walked. The inn disappeared behind a hill. Farmsteads parted and the road widened, giving way to huge, fenced-in fields. Delicate white flowers blossomed along the side of the road, and Dragomir paused to pick one. It made him sneeze. He flicked it away, swearing that he would never smell another flower again. Then, stopping to think about it, Dragomir decided that 'flower' could be a euphemism for something else. He immediately changed his vow and began to sing even more lustily, throwing his hands above his head.

"Doo de doo de doo!" He danced, clapped, and threw his hat into the air. "Staying at an iiiiiiiinn! Goin' for a waaaaaaalk! Got a new joooooob! Girl's really hooooooot! 'least I think she's hooooooot!"

The path curved upward, past a forest. Ignoring the nervous patter of his heart, Dragomir embraced the heat of the day and performed a cartwheel. His fingers left deep grooves in the worn road.

"Life is so greeeeeat!" Dragomir belted out his lines in a passable, but far-too-cheery, imitation of his father. Just for kicks. "Couldn't be betteeeeeeer! Everythin's goin' my waaaaaaay! Gonna get me someeeeee - "

The revelry ended when, somewhere nearby, somebody whistled at him. It was a high, melodic sound, rather like birdsong, and it stopped Dragomir in his tracks. He looked around, from one side of the road to the other. 

"Hm?" Another whistle turned his head. "Somebody there?"

He didn't have to search for long. A lithe, dark, stocking-clad leg slid out from behind a tree on the right side of the road, catching Dragomir's attention at once. Feminine fingers slowly pulled a dress back so Dragomir could drink in the exposed thigh, covered by a thin strip of lace and silk. 

Dragomir stirred. Immediately, passionately, almost violently. "WHOA. I NEED TO GO ON TRIPS MORE OFTEN."

A woman slid into view, back pressed against the tree. Skin a creamy brown, hair whiter than milk, dressed like a sultry bar wench, she curled her fingers in greeting. Dragomir hungrily watched each one bend, his eyes creeping down her slender wrist, up her too-perfect arm, up to her gorgeous face... down, past the tempting bump of her breasts, down, down, down... oh, the things beneath that dress...

Oh man. Look. She's waving at me. AND she's leggy. I like that. Legs are fantastic. Despite the lusty drool already gathering at his lips, Dragomir stabbed blindly for logic. What does she want, though? Might be a con job. Might be a bandit're somethin'. Don't fall for a pretty face too fast.

The woman smiled. Sliding delicately away from the tree, she took two steps towards Dragomir. He goggled at the view, slapping a hand on his mouth to hide his enormous grin. She giggled.

Maaaaaaan. Dragomir tugged his tunic down a few inches, doing his best to... hide. What does she want? Whatever it is, keep your cool. Don't wig out. She could be big trouble. Keep your EYES on the PRIZE.

Pausing by the fence, the woman leaned over, spreading her arms along the wood as though she were a bartender about to ask for Dragomir's order. He got an ample, generous look at her cleavage. That was enough to destroy his willpower; her first words were mere overkill.

Touching her lip and moaning a teensy bit, she smiled. "I want you."

She will be an excellent prize.

Giggling, the woman turned abruptly. Her dress flying back in a wide, revealing plume, she darted behind the tree again and waved at Dragomir. "Bye byeeee!"

His nerves and unease overridden by attraction, Dragomir immediately started forward. He nimbly vaulted the fence, leaving the road behind. "Hey! Hey! C'mon, baby, don't be like that! You tease! C'mon back!"

The woman ran towards the forest in the distance. Her merry laughter floated back to Dragomir on the wind.

"I'm a mean lover!" Dragomir called, hands at first fumbling with his britches, then thinking better of it. Should catch her first. "I'll give ya a spanking for runnin' off like that! I mean, sure, never actually had sex, but I can learn to be mean!"

The woman's white hair whipped between a pair of trees and vanished. Her inviting smile, flashing at him between tree branches, tempted Dragomir onward. He pranced across the grass, nearly tripping over a fallen tree, and dogged her path into the forest. 

"More trees? Kay! I can dig it!" Dragomir pushed into the forest, skirting around a bush and ducking beneath a low-hanging cluster of half-fallen twigs. "Hard to get, fine with me! An-ti-ci-pa-tiooooon!"

The woman's giggles seemed to come from all directions now, sliding delightfully out of the darkness and tantalizing Dragomir's ears. He caught faint glimpses of the hem of her skirt, the smoothness of her arm, the flick of her hair. Yet he never managed to spot her for more than a second before she vanished again, somehow able to skip through the dense greenery while Dragomir stumbled about in vain pursuit.

"S'all good," he called into the darkness, peering from side to side. "Wouldn't wanna have my first time in, like, an open field. That's just weird. A forest? Dark forest? Totally good. TOTALLY good."

The forest swallowed Dragomir. He didn't mind. He liked his girls flirty and evasive. Soon he was hopelessly lost, though he barely noticed. His brain was too busy running over all the gross things his father had told him about sex in the last four years. Now they seemed so delightfully real that he figured he needed a quick refresher course before the main event.

His father.

What had he arranged again...? Oh yeah. That marriage thing.

Laughing as he accidentally put a foot in a rabbit hole, Dragomir waved to the retreating flicker of a foot. "Just don't tell my girlfriend 'bout this, kay? I think she might get mad. Maybe." But what she doesn't know...

Dark, tall, claw-like trees stretched over and around Dragomir from every angle. They ushered him onward, inward, deeper and deeper, and he followed their embrace willingly. His every thought was lost on that first kiss, that first grope, that first sliiiiide... the sound... that soft, squishy sound he'd imagined every night for the last two months, ever since the news of his impending marriage...

Not sure if this is right, Dragomir thought. For the first time his smile faltered the tiniest bit. But... well, I mean, this is a thing people do, right? They have sex. It's natural. For all I know, this is my girlfriend. Man, wouldn't that be great? She's super hot, so...


He swallowed, wiping sweat from his head. Okay, she's probably not my girlfriend. But it's okay. It's a thing adults do, and I'm gonna do it! You only live once, and you only get married once, and I'm not married yet, so hey! I just have to - 

Dried leaves crunched at Dragomir's back. Thin fingers caressed his shoulder.

Peering back, the smile returning, Dragomir began to turn. His unreasoning lusts went with him. "There you are! C'mon, let's crack open..."

Her arm was too long.


Her legs, though thin, were now too numerous.


Her hair, still white, was too shaggy and ragged.

"Fire... works..."

Her eyes, before so alluring and full of life, glowed a pale green. They reminded Dragomir of his mother's fake emerald earrings. 


They stared at Dragomir out of a broad face, and a long, insectile jaw, complete with pincers, dropped open in a gruesome smile.

The woman waved. Dragomir did not wave back. He couldn't take his eyes off of her bloated body. It looked like a massive heap of raw, grey meat, supported by four sewing needles and covered in thin veins.

"B... b... baby," he stammered, "you... got... got... real... ugly..."

The thing -  not a woman, no, darkness writhed on its back - towered over Dragomir. It seemed to blend into the treetops, becoming one with the forest, a single entity of flesh and wood that had trapped him and was now ready to gobble him up. His mother had told him stories about such things, evil stories of vile forest creatures who preyed on the weak and the stupid, but oh, no, he'd not listened, he'd paid attention to his genitals, and now... and now -

"Hiya, baby." The thing's tongue seemed to test the air, licking and curling. A network of green veins pulsed along the tip and disappeared somewhere in the back of the thing's cavernous throat. "You'll do just fine."

The thing touched Dragomir's face, inspecting his chin, his cheeks, his lips, his nose, even pressing his eyes closed for a second. Its skin burbled and pulsated, as though a living creature of its own accord. Dragomir quivered, paralyzed, feet held in place by traitorous legs that refused to move despite the danger. Urine ran down his thighs. The fingers lingered over long on his brow...

... and slid his hat from his head. It chuckled sickly. "I really like your hat. Mind if I take it?"

He nodded, the slightest tip of his head.

"Thanks." It bent in close, fingers slipping back down his face again. Its breath stank like a slaughterhouse. "I'll take good care of it. Promise."

Dragomir began to scream. The rustle of the trees smothered the sound, and no one heard him. Eventually, carried away by pain and mental anguish, Dragomir fainted. He continued to scream as his one good eye closed. 

The thing laid Dragomir's curled body in a heap of wet leaves, draping his hat over his face to hide his wound. It held its prize gently in both hands, cradling it like a baby: a bloody, but intact, human eye. 

"That man is too sentimental for anyone's good." The thing shook its head, shaggy white locks flowing from one side to the other. "His plan's too damned convoluted. Ah, well... down the hatch... this is gonna suck..."

Grimacing, the thing lifted the eyeball to its mouth and dropped the squishy orb whole down its throat. The eyeball bounced once, rolled along its tongue, and disappeared. The thing swallowed, gagging - 

- and at once its body began to bloat and contort. The fleshy lumps on its back, chest and sides burbled, writhing and pulsating hideously as the thing settled onto the ground. Its legs spasmed and twitched, scraping deep furrows in the soft dirt. Faces, heads, limbs, body parts of all description but only smoothed features, began to press and poke out of its skin, as though trapped beneath a thin layer of translucent goo. It shrieked, its scream as high and tortured as a dying animal... or a woman in labour.

Time passed. Minutes. Hours. Half a day. Animals abandoned the trees in droves. The thing's bellows scared a group of old women, passing by the forest on a journey. Later, reaching a tavern, they swore they'd been chased by a demon.

When the cries ended, the thing's body collapsed back into a lithe, feminine form. Its innumerable folds and boils disappeared, replaced by solid black skin. She groaned and propped herself up on her elbows, wiping a leaf from her forehead and staring at her handiwork.

Dragomir lay, still curled, upon his leafy bed. His face beneath the hat looked taut and pained. Beside him, naked, skin slowly shifting from an oily black to a soft, healthy pink, eyes faintly green and wholly vapid, lay a second Dragomir. 

"Shit." Shaking away a severe headache, Litobora rolled her eyes and sighed. "His... his hair's blonde. Should be... a brunette. Fuck... ow... fucked that one up."


  1. Just going to call attention to this comment I made in June.

    I didn't call it precisely, but I had the right idea.

  2. Weeeeee!

    I'll point out now that Traveller has long been a Metal Gear Solid joke in disguise. A clone with blonde hair, the original is missing an eye and wears a patch...

  3. Hey, long time no see) Go for the ebooks - your other stuff is pretty good and it would probably be better for the DD (since Dragomir himself doesn't write much anyway these days, it could be, you know, more of a whole thing? or something like that).
    PS I thought it rather obvious with how the farmer guy back in Villianville expected Drags to be REALLY STRONG and Dragomir's false memories (like the old woman'a BOOTS - yes, the boots are the key). And other hints, like Traveler looking exactly like Dragomir, Trav's lack of memories and eye (cloning), Trav's affection to Libby (shaky point), Libby's affection to Trav (suspicious!).

    1. Well there was a HUGe hint about boxing (remember you mentioned Drags was originally a boxer), but it wasn't really canon. so...

  4. I've been reading Dragomir's Diary for quite a while now, without saying much. I've spent many weekends eagerly waiting to see the next entry in that time, never being disappointed. It's obvious that this project has required massive amounts of time, effort, creativity, and money to create and maintain.

    You've created an entire world. Filled it with colorful and engaging character. Developed those characters over time. Given us drawings of them, and the rich world they inhabit. Shown their musings behind their actions as they too write in the diary. Kept secrets, dropped small hints, and shown details the reader could never fully appreciate or understand without knowing what's ahead. You've even given us another part of the story in a completely different format with Mindless Walkabout.

    Many of your fans seem to comment frequently, and I've said very little as long as I've been a fan. Considering all you put into this and all you've created, I don't feel that's fair. You've given so much freely to all of your readers, even while it has burned you out and gotten in the way of you making money. All I've done is vote for you in polls sparsely and comment anonymously once or twice. You deserve, and have for a long time, some show of gratitude from me. So, I thank you greatly for everything, and I apologize for taking so damn long to do it.

    I voted either in the poll personally, but I will say the current format is great, and I'd be at least a bit sad to see it go. I just feel the format of any art should ultimately be what works best for the artist.

    Again, thank you for all you have created here. You've definitely brought me a lot of joy with it.

    1. Stupid filter threw this comment in the spam. I'm glad I get email notifications or I'd have missed it entirely.

      I'm glad to hear you've enjoyed Dragomir's Diary for as long as you have. All the effort is worth discovering that people are enjoying the story. That said, I don't think any of you wonderful readers owe me anything - I know all too well that not everyone necessarily want or needs to comment on what they read. Just feel free to toss out any theories you may have as to the story's developments, as I love reading what people think may happen next. (So often it's better than what I have planned. Mind, most of the big secrets have been revealed at this point...)

      As for the format, I'm beginning to lean towards a three-times-a-week entry system. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. I think I can make the story snappier without having to sacrifice on detail that way. Buuuuut I'm still mulling it over, so we'll see what we shall see.

    2. I suspected I may have the writing ability of a spambot. I'll consider this confirmation. I'm afraid I lack any theories at the moment, but I'll speak up should I ever have any. I quite like that format idea, personally.

    3. One of my messages was labelled spam on here a few months ago, so you're free to deem the system a bastard and call it a day if you wish. And no worries. Comment whenever it feels appropriate.

  5. Never played Metal Gear Solid, but since I read Dragomir and Traveller were destined to meet before the end, I've been thinking the two were connected on a level that could even mean they were the same person. I half-expected them to merge in some way. Not sure what to expect now. :) I'm catching up. Stopped reading about this time last year; I was too full of hope & shit to read a story like this. Heh.

    1. Dragomir, not a hopeful story? Balderdash. I'm such an optimistic writer, yo. But welcome back. As for Traveller and Dragomir... well, there's still plenty of time...