A day passes. A day of watchfulness and little sleeping.
Why do they kill us? If they feel this absolute need to kill, why not kill each other? If Peter was here, he’d know what to do. But he’s not, he’s dead. The soldiers killed him.
“I see you are trying to lessen my meal for me.”
“What about the lambs, are they not innocence?” Grandpops pleads from his alcove next to mine.
“Have they done any good for the world? No.”
“Xing, I’m a good servant of yours. I already have yer next meal ready, her name is Felicia.”
No! Someone must have grabbed her when she was crying by the door 3, 4 hours ago? I have to do something! Not Felicia!
“Fool! She is not next. Oh where are you old man?”
Quietly as Gwen can, she searches for something to hurt Xing with. She finds moss.
Xing comes closer, and I’m ready.
Sniff, sniff, sniff.
I jab the moss into his tail-mouth, and yell, “Run Grandpops!”
A hurricane of a snort comes at Gwen as Xing laughs, “Child, how foolish of you to think you could overcome me. I’m more powerful than you’ll ever know!”
“Xing! Let’s make a deal. Ye get ta do whatever ye do ta me, I’ll go willingly, as long as ye take me back ta wherever ye go, and not them all of them see the horror. Do we have a deal?” Why is Grandpops doing this?!
“No. I want all them to see how much good you’ve done, but not the same as Anna Marie. They NEED to see.”
Xing’s body radiates. He consumes Grandpops goodness. Grandpops says nothing.
Grandpops is now dead.