This is not an official chapter but a hint of things to come.
Interlude
He looked inquisitively at the creature sitting near the river. He had lived for at least 150 years and yet he had never seen such an ugly . . . Thing. The creature was in an army uniform with a name tag that read in amazing cursive letters Lieutenant Jones. Could it be a suitable substitute? Suddenly the Jones beast looked left then right and started to pee in the river. His river!!! With a coma inducing shriek he jumped out of the water and onto the man’s face. Though Jones’ body squirmed, he was able to crawl to the top of the man’s skull and start pumping stimulant into his blood. He sighed as the body’s nutrients filled him, feeding him. Then the flood of memories of bars, faces, and mating (he’d store that one for later).
He was about to stop the tide when memories of something stopped him. War machines, money, and troops who only knew to serve. Liking what he remembered he clumsily made the body move beyond the tree line. On the other side the troops saw him and started to pull out guns to shoot him. He didn’t think that would do.
“Stop!” he cried, manipulating Jones’ vocal cords, “I’m not interested in you. I only wish to speak with leaders.”
A nervous Marshall walked back to send a telegram while the others just stood, guns pointing until one chef, armed with a stainless steel spatula, asked him, “Who are yee Kraaken?”
His eye ridges rose, “Call me . . . Sekto.”
|