Shades of Blood #6: Infernal Journal

by Peter Ackers

him close earlier, to look at his shoulders to assess their juiciness, his head was facing out to the sea. Always. Not seeing, but perhaps smelling. Or using some other sense. I look at his thick thighs, his flat hands and feet, the tiny holes he has for nostrils. If I was paranoid, I might think he wanted to escape into the sea. And I might notice that he looks built for swimming, with webbed fingers. Mummy’s skin rots and I fear he will escape soon. He screams if I try to haul him close enough to put additional restraints on him. Turn the handle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  (!!!!!!hehehehe!!!))))

  I think the poison was some kind of stimulant: I feel good, strong and intelligent. What is going on here? Who planned this? Why? I must save the pen, but I desire to investigate my theories!!

  April.

  MY SON free. Skin snap, walk away. Lost hope. Dark, cant see. I am smarter. No escaped, but smarter anyhows. Cos I know now door not a door, just piece of hope. Trial over. I failed? Or junior succeeded? Did I need him, or did he need me? I wonder again: Did he - they - instead need me, or at least need the use of Mummy’s biology? Sleep seeks me. But perhaps I sleep anyway, dreaming all this. If so, will I wake soon?

  I hope not.

  N wonder, what they plan to do wi meeeeeeee