Progress report; Feathers, beaks, and the sick laughter of Murphy. (chp2) · 4:44am Aug 17th, 2014
Personally, I don't mind waiting.
My sister and older brother however, hate even the prospect of it, if I tell them to standby for something, they are likely to get a tad grumpy about things (and reasonably so, sometimes I take too long to make headway in anything.). That being said, have the first three-hundred or so words from Feathers, beaks, and the sick laughter of Murphy to hold you down till I get everything sorted out.
#NOTE# Chapter is still in development; all content is subject to change.
A sharp pressure hit my right shoulder blade and I spotted a fuzzy speck of black and yellow in my peripheral vision.
"Wha-"
Before I could turn my head, everything degenerated into a multi-colored blur. There was a dull thud, a disorientating pain in my skull and I was given an excellent view of the ceiling; it seemed that, in addition to hiring a talking griffon hit-man, Devin replaced the lights with a pair of yellow, transparent crystal clusters that jutted out in sets of four. They crawled downwards like stalactites, the middle ones being longer than the surrounding three.
Devin definitely had too much time on his hands, I wondered if he dipped into his tuition fund to do this.
"Talk!"
It came out as half screech and half scream, like someone trying to have a simultaneous shout-off with a bald eagle.
I scooted backwards towards the door, ignoring the rub-burn it inflicted on my bum. When I cleared enough space, I sat up, only for the griffin to be upon me in the whump whump of two wing-beats. She had no eyebrows to speak of; though I could tell, or at least I thought I could tell, that she was scowling by a pronounced crinkle in the purple spots around her eyes.
"The ceiling is pretty?" I stammered.
In my panic I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind and it was stupid. Panic and stupid are like conjoined twins.
She stared at me blankly for a second; her beak ajar. I felt the reaction before it came, akin to the moment when a baby falls on her head and just looks at you with those huge dark eyes for a split second before releasing the floodgates. Except this time, the only tears would be coming from me as my still-beating heart was ripped out of a ruined chest cavity before my eyes.
Somewhere in the ninth circle of hell, Murphy and Satan were laughing over a cheap pack of beer at my expense.
More?
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In due time.
The chapter is currently at 1,327 words; I anticipate something close to double that number by the time I'm done.
Ill probably review the second chapter as well.
2377127
That would be much appreciated.
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ok.