MAG 128 - Heavy Goods
The Magnus Archives
00:00
The Cargo of Fear
When Orsonov carved into the thing that had once called itself bromaldi, even we found ourselves impressed. And when the faceless puppet peeled its creator and moved itself with their tendons string wings, he looked at me and laughed and laughed. We followed her a while but she was unpredictable, while we are things of point and purpose. When she lost the ancient skin we went our separate ways and found ourselves a lorry, long and dirty grey. They usually screamed as we drove and drove a fear thick in the air and sometimes they died. One tried to leap from the back into the road and one even made it through. Most stayed, getting weaker and weaker their cries fading
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