Here, Megan gets Nicholas to write down more from his past. Yet again, Nicholas is a bit cranky.

“More to be told? What power in the universe, beside me at the beginning of all of this, told you that the Mother would not be pleased at my mediocre attempt to recount my beginnings?” His voice reached a shout, and he decided that the journal would serve best embedded in the glass of the hotel’s television.

“Despite their petulance, your words wound me, Nicholas. You know as well as I that the source of my sight is a mystery to the both of us.” She tightened her grip, and pain began to jump down his back. “I suppose that you need a reminder that I am not, nor have I ever been, compelled to share frivolous revelations with you or anyone else.” Two vertebrae cracked, and Nicholas knew that several discs were crushed.

3,648 / 114,389 (3.2%)

In tracking down Megan and Nicholas, the Hunter runs into a bit more than he can handle.

Even after dark, this one would not pass for human. Its skin was dried and torn from many years of existence. Its teeth, most prominently its fangs, had grown to lengths that prevented both speech and closing its mouth. A leathery, translucent skin joined the bottom of its arms to the sides of its body. They appeared to be ribbed, and reminded the hunter of the first night that he’d seen the pretentious redheaded one. The caretaker’s eyes were all pupil, seemingly black. It snarled at him, a frightening and unsettling sound, but the hunter stood firm. He would not become prey, even to one as old as this.
The beast became silent for a moment. It was sizing him up and deciding his worth. If it saw him as a threat, it would attack, and the hunter would most likely perish in the service of the Almighty. If it did not, the insult would sting, but the hunter would be free to resume tracking his prey.

2,911 / 114,389 (2.5%)

Here, we get to see Megan, Nicholas’ creator, speak prophecy. I can’t resist the prophecy, especially when it involves desecrating a corpse.

Once more, Megan increased the speed of her whispering. She began to slur the nonsense syllables together, and her fingertips broke through the lenses of the corpse’s eyes. The watery jelly flowed up and over the nails of Megan’s fingers. She stopped, suddenly, and her brow un-furrowed. Her eyes focused on Nicholas, and she brought two fingers to her mouth. She licked them clean with a cat-like tongue.

There is a hunter that’s attempting to kill both Nicholas, our cranky friend, and Megan, whom you have not met. Here’s a bit that I love about the Hunter…

In his mind, he is always marching. For ever and ever, one foot in front of the other to the beat of his heart, for ever and ever, amen. In his mind, the march turned any distracting emotion into useful kinetic energy. The motion, propelled by anger, frustration, rage, anguish, loss, sadness, loneliness, all focused his actions into an everlasting and eternal prayer to the Almighty, his Lord and Savior, amen.

In another attempt to get me writing regularly, and because I’ve really enjoyed posting bits of my writing here, I’m going to post regular excerpts from pieces that I’m working on. This idea may or may not have been flagrantly stolen from . Heh.

Nicholas can be so wonderfully cranky. :)

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Nicholas closed the journal and shook his head. He spun around in his office chair and hurled the pen at Megan. It sailed past her head to her left, and she simply smirked. “This makes no sense! I’m a terrible writer, and trying to remember the details of that night… it’s infuriating!” Megan did not move as Nicholas stood up and paced angrily across the room. His shoulder-length red curls flowed out behind him, distracting her from his angry movements. “It’s not like we haven’t had more telling encounters with him since, so any information about the way he behaved that night is trivial. I simply don’t see why you’re making me do this.”
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