CHAPTER 3
Matthew, better known as Bloodlust Writes, woke up with a vicious headache and a very pretty, slightly pinkish girl sleeping on his shoulder. He was sitting inside a train filled with people in suits, dresses and the work-wear of those who wished they had better jobs. And definitely better pay.
The train sounded as loud as the screeches of the Leering Men Who Killed My Only Family.
He glanced around, eyes squinted, head throbbing and legs stiff from hours of sitting. He had no idea where he was headed, but he knew what he wanted to do. And what he wanted to do was retrieve the wisps of blue from within those sons of bitches who ate his father.
There was only that small problem of how, but he thought it a minor detail. If anyone can lead him to them, it’s the brown-haired girl that slept next to him. The one with a little bit of drool down the side of her mouth.
He shifted uncomfortably, and she woke up with a jerk.
“I thought you said you had a plan,” he said to her, testily. She looked abashed. “I did. The plan was to bait them with your brains, capture one of them, and force the truth out of them.” She looked downward, and rubbed a stain of blood off her pants.
“But they… were not quite what I thought they would be,” she admitted.
Writes bit back the urge to be sarcastic, mean and just a little jerk-ass. He wanted to tell her that she caused him to lose everything. But seeing something misty in her eyes softened his already soft heart.
(Of course he has a soft heart. Just because he was bloodthirsty didn’t mean he was a monster.)
He sighed. He looked around for a few short moments, taking in the other passengers, taking in the battered seats, taking in the entire situation.
He couldn’t.
But he was certain that the lady sitting three rows down to his left had a dark and mysterious past, muttering to herself and surreptitiously feeding something inside her large brown handbag a slice of bread every now and then. He knew there was a story there. Maybe she kept her children inside the bag, after she had cursed them with a spell that would keep them as children forever – except it went wrong and they ended up the size of rats.
Or maybe she had a pet mouse inside her bag and just didn’t want the station master to find out.
But that was too boring. That was not his style at all.
Marjorie was, however, looking at him strangely. Her body tense, she straightened and leaned towards him.
“You had another idea didn’t you?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “No. I had a story in my head. I can’t help it. It’s who I am.”
She nodded. “That’s it. That’s just it.” She sat back, with a satisfied air, as if she had finally proved her point.
Something clicked. Suddenly. But Marjorie didn’t notice his eyes glazing over and his extra furious biting of skin that was the trademark of his ‘ding!’ moment.
(Some people get lightbulbs going off in their heads. That was too common for him. Writes just sucked more blood and felt a visceral, innate brain orgasm.)
Marjorie picked at lint on the chair. “Whatever. You said you had an idea.”
Writes nodded. He had it. He really did. He had toyed with that idea at first but what she said just made up his mind.
“I do. I am going to follow you around. Sooner or later, they’re gonna show up. When they do, they’re going to eat my ideas. I’m going to let them. Then I am going to show them what a real horrible idea looks like.”
Marjorie’s jaw dropped. “Wha- what do you mean?”
Writes shrugged. “Well, if they can eat and regurgitate a warped version, surely that warped version is still going to be mine? My consciousness? The ideas they eat belong to me, and I figured they’re a part of who I am. Isn’t that what you said?”
Marjorie shook her head furiously. “That’s not how it works! When they consume you, you are gone. YOU cease to exist. Your ideas are all that remains of you –” she stopped. “Wait.”
Writes grinned. “Lightbulb moment?”
Marjorie grinned nastily. “No. More like an exploding margarine moment.”
But her expression softened suddenly. “This is a no-recovery kind of plan. Once you’re consumed you don’t exist anymore. I can’t get you back into your body. I don’t even know if your crazy idea will work. If it doesn’t, we’re both dead and so is the world.”
Writes shrugged. The world was of little concern to him. He was more interested in knowing what being a blue wisp of nothing would feel like. Maybe like cotton candy.
That, he figured, will be just sweet.
**** to be continued***
Ya that's all la. I am lazy now. Kthxbye.
