Utterly Mad

The Howling Tower

The thing staggered it's way down an alley between a block of squalid apartments, and the bullet merchants facing crack top court. There was, fortunately, none to witness it's passage or it's mad rambling.

"Lovely... Lovely... Rita... Lovely... It's... So dark... So dark... Without... Rita... Mother said... Said... Don't drink... Prescott... Lovely... Rita... I... We... I... Want... Rita... Rita... Rita..."

It moved on, the gray mass of it's body pulsing, corpulant and tumerous with the life it carried. Soon the thing, a babbler by name, Jonathan D'frees once upon a time, came to an oppulant courtyard where it seemed to stop and whisper to itself. The mycus monster gazed with it's half glazed eyes up at the tower no more than a mile away and mumbled on.

"Howling... Singing... Ever... Ringing... Rita... Rita... The tower... The howling... Tower... Stop her... Howling... Drive her... Rita... Jonny... Boy... You... Shouldn't have... Drunk... The water... Rita... Lovely..."

The figure, even less human in appearance than it had been before, settled on a bench in the courtyard. The property was that of a prominent pharmacy which dealt mainly in birth control and cheap but effective fungal medication. The pulsing in the figure quickened and soon it wasn't just throbbing, but growing. Inflating like some cancerous balloon. It let out a how of agony, breaking the babblers incessant litany before exploding in a torrent of gray spores and tendrils. The courtyard was thoroughly painted in the monsters gray ichor, and where the thing had been sitting was now a pair of legs and a single thick stalk of something that seemed to breath and exhuded spores with every exhale. The stalk was topped with a strangely lovely flower like a sunflower, but with blue petals.

In the morning, the searing spear would come and burn out the newly risen patch, hacking off the heads of the "moon" flowers and incinerating what was left.

In the last couple months, the scene was all too common.