The Content Mill

Davis opened the door, the room beyond flooding with light and an indicating smell of something. The rest were there, tuning up and getting ready for another show in another dumpy club.

He shouldered his guitar and joined in as if he had written the song. He very well may have.

Earl looked to Davis and nodded as the door behind him molded back into the wall, Empty once more.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

Gianni is GianniDiCrosta

Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Credits

Edited and produced by Gianni DiCrosta

Thumbnails by Eric Gilles

Descriptions by Phil Bothun

The Empty Room—for that is what it was—swallowed. It was a unsettling thing, the uvular, muscular spasms of consumption and ejection all at the same time. Life, death, meat.

And then emptiness. Davis Empty. A *new* Empty. How interesting. How unexpected.

How delicious.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

Gianni is GianniDiCrosta

Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Credits

Edited and produced by Gianni DiCrosta

Thumbnails by Eric Gilles

Descriptions by Phil Bothun

Thanks to Kayla for joining us! You can follow her on JK Games, Drop In, Drop Out, and Palettes and Pages!

——

And then there’s Winston. Winston Empty is an especially odd case. Where he comes from changes by the moment, I don’t think he’s ever once given me the same answer. But, perhaps, the more confusing and unnerving part of it is that he's never once lied either.

I didn’t know that at the time, of course.

——

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Eric is MrTheHuman

Gianni is GianniDiCrosta

Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Credits

Edited and produced by Gianni DiCrosta

Thumbnails by Eric Gilles

Descriptions by Phil Bothun

Now, the Emptys. Where exactly they hail from is a matter of confusion. To us, of course, but to them as well.

I've mentioned before that Earl is from out in the Pacific Northwest. From the oldest money around. So he says. Where, or how Earl got it, is unknown. Hell, Earl didn't exist until 1917 on any records. No draft records, no nothing. He doesn't carry tags and, even if you press him, won't mention anything before meeting Ellington.

Odd that, isn't it?

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Eric is MrTheHuman

Gianni is GianniDiCrosta

Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Credits

Edited and produced by Gianni DiCrosta

Thumbnails by Eric Gilles

Descriptions by Phil Bothun

Until now, we have little discussed the Emptys. Earl Empty and Winston Empty, no relation. Well, not like that anyways. Just by cosmic coincidence they shared the same name…and it was cosmic.

They were quite nondescript; conjure what a drummer and a sax player in a 1920s jazz band looks like to you and that’s them. Quite literally. They rarely looked the same to the people in the crowd, but that was their trick: blending in. Making their belonging bone deep.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

Gianni is GianniDiCrosta

Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Credits

Edited and produced by Gianni DiCrosta

Thumbnails by Eric Gilles

Descriptions by Phil Bothun

The Blue Room—for that is what it was—roiled, its light charged with a cosmic anticipation.

The Printed Room—for that is what it was—roiled, its letters surging like waves upon the wall.

The Empty Room—for that is what it was—was hungry.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

Gianni is GianniDiCrosta

Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Credits

Edited and produced by Gianni DiCrosta

Thumbnails by Eric Gilles

Descriptions by Phil Bothun

Well, dear reader. It appears we’re at a crossroads of sorts. A convergence point where our story takes a turn for the cosmic—as if it hadn’t already.

So hold on tight to something, anything that reminds you of home or who you used to be.

I’d hate for you to be left Empty for this next leg of the journey.

————

Follow Kate on BlueSky

Follow Emily on BlueSky

Go listen to No Small Games!

————

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Eric is MrTheHuman

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Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

The door creaked open slowly, blue light thrumming from around the jamb. Letters and text and illustrations of the Big Bad Wolf dissolved in the air; childhood lamps twinkling like stars in the sea of blue.

There was no one here. Not now. But she still felt what this place was, what it will be. What it could be.

The letters finished moving, some of them still hanging in the air.

”Remember me,” suspended at eye-level above an image of the wolf devouring Red.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

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Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Mr. Ree leafed through an old, worn children’s book. Illustrations and text floated in the air in a particle fizz, swirling into his eyes. The pages were left blank.

He had seen it all, just hadn’t consumed it all quite yet. He was waiting. For the knock on the door that had happened just then, but now.

Ah. There it was.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

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Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun

Dust drifted in the entrance, decay's snow dancing in the headlights streaming through the doorway. Two stairways flanked the foyer, curving to a second-story balcony. Framed portraits hung on every wall, barely an inch of curling wallpaper visible between them.

Every face by scratched out or crossed out with black paint. All but hers. Blue light pulsed from above, beckoning her.

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Eric is MrTheHuman

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Nate is HeroicHeadgear

Phil is Phil Bothun