106: The Corpuscular Brick


In Shawlands, there was once a field known as the “Good Man’s Croft” to farmers and villagers; this field was deliberately left to grow wild without having a crop planted in it, so that the “Good Man” – the Devil – could use it to entertain his malevolent company and leave the crops on the other fields alone. Once set aside, it could not be claimed again – if crops were sown, they would be blighted; if animals were put to pasture, they would be stricken and die. It can be inferred that the Good Man’s Croft is now part of Pollok Country Park south of the city.

There are a number of strange phenomena occuring in Pollok Country Park – all stemming from the area’s notorious links to demons and black magick – but one particular phenomenon is of great interest to many acolytes. In a part of the park where there is very little trees around, there is a medium-sized mound, with a muddy earthen ring surrounding it where no grass ever grows. If one stands atop this mound at midnight on a night where the rain is particularly heavy, and aims a pair of binoculars due west, there may be a chance you will spot a figure stalking along the treeline. The figure is often very difficult to make out, but many acolytes have described it as moving erratically, as though it makes its way by twitching and spasming forward; its skin appears to be stretched across its skeletal frame, with thick knots of bone throbbing from thin, fragile-looking bone shafts that look far too weak to withstand its manic thrashes. The figure moves around the wooded areas, looking for something in between its juddering spasms: eventually, it will stop at the base of a tree, dig down into the earth, and plant something there, before covering it back up with soil.

Unfortunately, due to your elevated position atop the mound, it is more than likely that the figure will see you – and once it does, it will freeze for only a few seconds as it fixates on you. You have only a few seconds to run to the place it dug up – and it will be thrashing its way back towards it in order to prevent you from seizing its treasure. The figure is fast, and the figure is precise – before you realise it is upon you, square chunks will fall away from your still-gushing flesh as it guts you with strange bony tendrils that shred, cut, pierce and carve.

If you manage to rip its treasure up from the soil before the frenzied creature reaches you, you will discover that the treasure is a brick-like cuboid, made entirely of warm, fleshy, muscular corpuscles inside a mesh of thin but durable bones, which quiver and shake in response to your touch. If you transfuse blood from the sinewy brick, you will find yourself healthier and more energetic over time, more alert, and more awake. However, there is always a chance you might have seized a “bad brick” – and will suffer from anything from HIV to leukemia for the rest of your life. Many would suggest this is no different to your chances when you first come into the world – and who would turn down the chance of a better, healthier body?

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