Wow...I've read the whole thing and I can't wait for more. I love the way you put the world together, the way you describe things. Some people just don't know how to use big words without them becoming cumbersome, but they fit perfectly into the flow of your writing. There are some really unique ideas here. I especially enjoy Gulf...he reminds me of one of my more dubious aquaintances. And the play on Michael's name. Very clever.
There was one place you mispelled "Michael," but other than that I couldn't find a thing wrong with it. I eagerly await the next chapter.

I haven't read chapter 6 yet but I couldn't wait any longer to comment (though I will finish the story, no question)
Though it's a little rough (for example, too many adjectives, which tend to slow the reader down... or possibly just me) it has the feel of great literature to it. I think you're going to go places. Have you submitted any of your work to an agent yet?

I can see why Michael would be freaked by Chaballa. The guys is kinda creepy! And I must say, his advice...not so helpful! LOL! I'd be pretty upset if that was all the help I got on some mission I knew nothing about. We'll see how Michael responds, huh?

I'm so glad you updated this story. It's my favorite of yours.
The coolest part of this chapter, to me, was the description of Lord Chaballa's voice. It's unique. :-)

Weird...heh, woman in white. Not red, white. I like the description of June's eyelashes. I can see them.

The whole story was really really wrote it very well.

This entire thing is very intriguing. It reminds me, on the whole, of a painting by Dali or one of his contemporaries... everything so odd, so fantastically nonsensical, so immovable yet pliable. And both lead steadily onward to a certain point, a height of disassociation in Dali's case. What are you leading up to? Please continue so we all may find out. _

It's just occurred to me that, although this is written in prose, it can be read with an almost-poetic inflection. This makes it definitely on masterpiece-scale. The nonsensicality helps rather than hinders this effect. Translation: You're making me seriously want to read The Clockwork Orange, or some of the other, odder books on your faves list, because something in there must be pretty awesome to get quality like this.

The sheer amount of feeling in this chapter took me by surprise. In a good way.

This is a crazy hallucination... but does her name have anything to do with the fact that Michael always left his keys on the kitchen table?

What's the best wash cycle for getting liquid darkness out of clothing?

If a herd of pure-white llamas attack a parallel sea of darkness under grey clouds, do they make a sound?

Don't mind me. Reading on.

"The result was two-fold and meant that he now had spat-up warm milk all over his kitchen floor, but also that it miraculously seemed to have worked. Michael felt surprisingly heavy and drowzy..."

ROFLing over that one- such a solemn, sullen, sedatively-dramatic chapter, but the humor's still there, which just makes everything better, somehow. I've only just realized 'drowsy' is misspelled, which should tell you how much this has me pulled in so far. Very absorbing.

Ahahahah! The pace is starting to pick up now. This is starting to get seriously interesting, for many more reasons aside from mere drama: you've begun to establish so much mystery it'd drive an illiterate pygmy shrew wild. Good going!

ouch.

"Michael failed to notice and the child rode off, quietly digesting these new and mysterious magic words." Gotta love those observant kids...

Well, now.

I have to ask... how in the hell could you get the idea for something like this?

Extra cookies to you for more uniqueness. Let's see how much more you can pack in.

I don't even know how to describe this chapter. Humorous, twisted, slightly dark, slightly eerie, very dramatic. There, that'll do.

Waugh! The twistedness continues! The woman in white was not unanticipated, but the words, and the odd circumstance of discovery, most certainly were. The entire eeriness of this chapter made for a wonderfully morbid continuation. Nice.