A tiny harbinger of chaos, the Scribbler exists solely to annoy, disrupt, and leave a trail of arcane mayhem. Every hurried stroke and splattered blot carries raw magical knowledge, ready to explode in unpredictable bursts. Order, logic, or scripts – none stand a chance against its chaotic artistry.
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There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.
Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.
He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.
Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.
“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”
“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.
“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”
“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”
"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."
It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.
With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.
Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.
At first, nothing happens.
Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"
"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.
The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.
After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.
"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"
"I didn't grab you."
"Wh- Steve?"
"No," is all Steve can get out.
"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."
Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.
"Fuck this," he says.
"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.
He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.
But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.
Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.
The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.
Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.
"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.
"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"
"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."
"And... Tommy and Carol?"
"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."
"Fuck."
"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."
"Or?"
"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."
He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.
"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.
"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"
"Could- could you make someone love me?"
"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"
"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."
Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.
"Your mom," he repeats.
"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."
"Steve..." Munson pauses.
He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.
"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."
"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."
"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."
"Please?"
"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"
"Deal."
"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."
"What do you mean, weird?"
"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."
"You're joking."
"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."
"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"
"On your head..."
Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?
Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-
He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.
"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.
At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.
"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"
He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.
She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.
"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"
"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."
"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"
"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"
"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"
"I'd love that."
"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."
Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.
He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.
Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.
Meet Nom-Nom, the bunny that was taken to our campus as an evacuee during the height of Typhoon Tino, which had recently wrought havoc throughout the island of Cebú
Nom-now was part of the many families that stayed in our campus while the people rebuilt their homes. And since I was also staying in campus, due to the lack of electricity in my place; Nom-nom was my neighbor for a week.
This picture was taken circa 2025, in our campus at the Southwestern University PHINMA in Cebú City
Explore the fantasy worlds, books, and artwork of R.L. Douglas, including the immersive Globiuz and Stratius series, and its expanding lore.
I’ve just published a new deep‑dive on one of Globiuz’s most unsettling inhabitants — the Krahters.
These creatures have always lived in the darker corners of the world, but I wanted to explore why they feel so wrong. Their malformed bodies, predatory instincts, and uncanny presence aren’t random — they’re part of a larger, older horror woven into Globiuz’s ecology.
If you’re into grotesque fantasy, folklore‑adjacent monsters, or worldbuilding that leans into the uncanny, here’s the full piece: