Sinbad was still relatively damp when The Builder returned. Over their shoulder was a corpse still dripping with blood and brain matter, out of a gaping hole from his head.
“Sorry about that, sir!” They told him in an unfittingly chirpy voice. “One of your son’s clones got out, and he had to die.”
This just made Sinbad grit his teeth. He was so tired of people mentioning children in relation to him.
By the time Sinbad came back to reality, he realized he was drenched in a copious amount of cold water.
Nearby, The Builder was laughing uproariously at his state. They just kept laughing as if seeing him all wet was the most hilarious thing in the world.
“Hope you don’t stink up the place with your wet dog smell, buddy!” Then The Builder went back to spraying him.
Amelia was still looking out the window, looking for any sign that the others were coming back. Every minute that went by with no sight of them, and she became even more distraught.
“What if they never come back? What if they’ve been killed on the way?” She asked her sister in a wavering voice.
Amara came up to her, before handing her a submarine sandwich from a plate of food she’d been making.
I’ve been nominated for the Blogger Recognition Award, thanks to the kind Aka MaKenzye! (Seriously though, how’s this keep happening?)
- Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog.
- Write a post to show your award.
- Attach the award to the post.
- Give a brief story on how your blog started.
- Give a piece of advice or two to new bloggers.
- Select 15 other blogs you want to give the award to.
(uhh…I’m gonna skip this one)
- Comment on each blog and let them know you nominated them and provide a link to the award post you created.
(this one too. I’m not good at choosing blogs for awards. I don’t want anyone to feel left out)
Why this blog exists:
Basically, otpprompts (a blog on Tumblr) gave me the motivation to start writing after I had to uninstall my game. I ended up writing most of Arc 1 and part of Arc 2 on there. Then I ended up moving here for a reason I don’t remember. That’s about it.
Advice to new bloggers:
Keep writing even if you think it’s the most poorly-written garbage in the universe. Chances are that someone’s gonna like it. Basically, don’t give up.
Make sure to read other blogs and like/comment on them! Otherwise, you’re not going to get anywhere, and you’ll probably end up looking like a pretentious hack.
As soon as Annette was done explaining what was going to happen, everyone was stunned into a disturbed silence.
“Yeah so…That’s going to happen,” She added on in an effort to break the tension. There was still no proper reaction.
Then, gradually, Marc reached up to grab hold of his face. As he did so, a guttural throat sound was heard, before it crescendoed into an outright shriek.
Annette tried in vain to escape The Builder’s iron grip. It seemed as though the more she struggled, the tighter they held on to her.
“Why the hell are you making them do that?!” Immediately, she felt the question she asked was a pointless one.
The Builder turned to face her, only to pull their free hand back and strike her in the face. The impact was enough to cause her to slip out of their grip and fall to the floor.
Once Sagebear had ceased with cleaning herself, she was back in gear to continue on. The humans really had no choice but to keep following her.
“Remind me to make sure this puppy gets plenty of treats and belly rubs when this is over!” Dennis said to Blaise as they and Marc tried to stay close to Sagebear.
Finally, Sagebear stopped once more in front of an elaborate-looking door. The three humans stood dumbfounded as she approached. Continue Reading
(Yep, doing another one of these special holiday whatchamafuckits. Gonna try something different than the Mother’s Day thing. And yep, pictures here too)
(Obviously not connected to the current events in the story)
The Twin and Horse-Face’s companion quietly watched from their hiding place. The former grit their teeth, while the latter gasped loudly.
“Those guys are…” The young man tried to say something, but failed. He stepped away from the hidden door, not wishing to be seen or heard.
He then turned to look at them. “Don’t tell me what you drew a while back was some kind of prophecy?”