“You’re moving it!”
“I am not!”
“Okay, okay.” Alexis squared her shoulders and put her fingers back on the planchette. “Let’s be serious here.”
“I’ve been serious this whole time!” Carrie argued, her fingers settling down beside Alexis’s.
“Let’s ask it something. Like… Who has a crush on me?”
It didn’t move at first. Then Carrie sucked in a breath as the planchette shifted on the board. Alexis’s heart was pounding as letter after letter was pointed out.
“C…” she whispered.
“A…” she went on.
She looked up at Carrie in shock.
“I lied,” Carrie said, blushing. “I was moving it.”
If anyone’s wondering what I’m reading at the moment, it’s Howliday Inn. Just getting reacquainted with the classics.
He woke with a start, from a dream of torn skin in his mouth. The room was bright with sunlight. Harper was slouched in the chair, asleep. She stirred when he woke thrashing, but didn’t wake. Hussein was at his desk, head in his arms. He didn’t stir at all.
Bryan tiptoed out the door and to the bathroom, where he pissed a river. He didn’t meet anyone on the way there and back. The building was like a tomb in the day. There were daytime workers – analysts and payroll and damage control – but they hardly equaled the buzz of nighttime, and they worked on the lower floors.
The two were still asleep when he got back. He closed the door silently, without even a click of the latch, and looked them over. Harper’s hair was in her face, swaying gently with each breath. She snored if he listened hard enough. Hussein was hunched over his desk, arms for a pillow, back rising and falling. Bryan felt bad for him; he had taken his couch.
His eyes roamed to the other side of the room, to the bookcases. And his bag. His bag filled with waterlogged cards he had scooped up in the midst of his gibbering horror, filled only with self-preservation, as if the cards were pieces of his body he had to gather together before running away from the thing that was gathering its own body.
And the gamma. The gamma was in there too.
Continue reading “Black Heart – Chapter V Part II”
“Here, drink this.”
Hussein handed him a cup of coffee. Bryan grabbed it, his shaking hands spilling half of it onto his fingers and the blanket that lay over him once again. It burned and he didn’t notice. He gulped it and Hussein had to take it from his lips.
“Careful,” he said. “It’s hot.”
Bryan didn’t care. The scalding of it running down his throat was nothing. But he had to wash that taste from his mouth.
Hussein added more whiskey to it to cool it down, and handed it back.
Bryan had burst in downstairs drenched in blood, absolutely raving, and though the guards knew him they weren’t sure whether to let him in. They were half-convinced he was possessed. They called Hussein, who tried to bring Bryan upstairs, but he wouldn’t go.
“She’ll kill these guards,” Bryan shouted. “They can’t do anything. She’ll kill them. If she comes here everyone in this room is dead.”
Continue reading “Black Heart – Chapter V Part I”
The blog hiatus was a lie. All I did was play Breath of the Wild.
She noticed something on her arm, and looked closer. A scratch. She didn’t recall how she got it.
Her best friend had always told her that such mysterious injuries were echoes of the past, of harm experienced in a previous life.
It wasn’t the first scratch she had gotten on her arm. About once or twice a week she would find a mark on her forearm, long and straight and stinging sharply.
Just in case her friend was right, every time she found a new scratch she always directed a thought into the past, into her self.
I feel you.