The lit interior of the vending machine shone like a beacon in the darkened street. Behind the fogged glass, blurred shapes in faded packaging strained against the coils of metal holding them in place.
Marshall Teller hefted the bag of cursed doubloons in one hand, the enchanted gold humming his name in a sweet, lilting tone that any siren would be proud of.
"This is a bad idea," he said, to nobody in particular. Around him, Eerie lay quiet, keeping it's counsel.
"A mysterious vending machine that only accepts ghost-pirate currency appears out of nowhere," Marshall continued. "You'd have to be the sucker of the universe to fall for that."
The lights in the vending machine dimmed, then brightened. Marshall got the distinct impression that it had winked at him.
He stepped closer, trying to peer through the condensation that streaked the inside of the display case.
The number six button flashed. Once. Twice. Three times. From the coin return slot came the tinny approximation of a raven's caw. The buzz of an electrical current filled the air, though Marshall could see the power lead and the plug lying abandoned on the sidewalk.
He sighed, and reached for a coin.
Ongoing Verse: Trusted Associates Inc( Read more... )![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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