Standard disclaimers apply. Enjoy!
""and just as the door closed with a soft click, shutting out the last light from the streetlamps outside, - " Abe Sapien finished the last line of the page the book before him was opened to, deeply unsatisfied. It was downright uncanny how often this happened to him; or at least, a more reasonable part of him insisted, how often it sometimes seemed to happen. Especially at times when, like now, Professor "Broom" Bruttenholm was not in his study to turn the pages for Abe. Though of course, the reasonable voice interrupted again, the Professor had not exactly decided to leave him to the suspense of unturned pages; he had been called away by agent Manning, who was technically his superior. No, if it hadn't been for the urgent call, Abe decided as he surveyed the room before him, the Professor would certainly have preferred to stay here. The room was dominated by a life-sized statue of Saint Dominic slaying a small dragon with his lance, both figures cast in a golden glow by the numerous lamps set along the walls. The light was soft, barely enough to reveal the countless books that lined the walls, in shelves so high the Professor had had to add a ladder to the furniture, though the metallic shine in the corner was rather at odds with the wooden armchairs and desk that stood on the thick carpet - between them, of course, more books. Books whose pages needed turning.
With a sigh - a habit he had picked up from the people around him, though he was of course ill-equipped to produce one -, Abe turned his back to the books and resigned himself to wait for the Professor's return, or possibly some other visitor. But his mood brightened considerably when he remembered he had kept an egg for just such a situation; it had to be around there somewhere... Not bothering to use his eyes, he instead let the fragrance guide him to his snack. Fragrance - a normal English word, and completely inadequate to describe the sensation. The rich sulphurous aroma, with a hint of... fundamental eggness - calling that a fragrance was like trying to sum up his graceful movements with "swimming". As it was, the perception guided him as clearly as a visible line, and a lazy backflip brought him downwards, until the greenish delicacy was within easy reach. Floating in front of the thick sheet of glass that separated him from Professor Broom's study, he savoured the rotten egg.
Just as he began to drift over to another corner of the tank, with the vague idea of retrieving his Rubik's cube and setting to work on the fourth side, another line caught his eye. It was only barely more visible than the scent of a rotten egg, it was jagged, and, most importantly, it marred the glass at the very bottom of his tank. Right now barely a drop of water had gathered on the outside of the crack, but even as Abe looked on, small ramifications sprouted from the fracture and scurried along the glass."
The sound of the single sheet of paper landing on the table seemed loud in the silence, and Profressor Broom cast worried looks at his... well, they were senior, among other things - agents. "This was found on the internet."
This is it, sorry for the cliffhanger. I actually wrote this piece ages ago and never got around (or any inspiration; you know how it goes) to finish it, but who knows what a few kind reviews can accomplish... Or maybe you're lucky enough to have more eager muses and an idea how the BPRD would deal with detailed information about them getting out on the internet; in that case feel free to continue the story. Just let me know, because I'd really like to know how this turns out...
