Tag Archives: Cinnamon Bun

Bird’s Eye View: Chapter 2- Bird’s The Word

32 votes, average: 4.78 out of 532 votes, average: 4.78 out of 532 votes, average: 4.78 out of 532 votes, average: 4.78 out of 532 votes, average: 4.78 out of 5 (32 votes) (4.78)

I turned around to see two rather homely women- both human and standing at the entrance. The shorter, chubbier one with scraggly blonde hair was looking at Perri and myself with a disgusted sneer on her face while she held up a camera phone.

“Remember that golf-ball sized clump of bird shit on the hood of your car last week?” the taller, far more masculine one began to bellow out. “I guess we know who the responsible party is.”

The gruesome twosome took a couple of steps into the pharmacy.

“Wonder what she’s doing here. Don’t those things eat like…..worms and seeds and shit like that?” chubs asked loudly as she was walking right past Perri.

“You know, I heard that these bird-girls are an all female species. They need human men to reproduce.” Chubs said.

“Really? Apparently they haven’t heard of these things called ‘standards’.” Butchie sneered at her friend. “Seems like they’ll sleep with any pathetic, trashy piece of shit to keep the species going.”

As I’m gritting my teeth, Perri seems to be trying to burn a hole into the countertop using just her eyes.

“Ew…what kind of loser is desperate enough to try and score with a girl who’s part bird, anyway?”

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The Archivist’s Apprentice- Madness Finale: Aftermath

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***From the Journal of Lysander, Apprentice to the Royal Archivist***

I can’t even begin to remember how long I sat there, screaming, though I do remember that shining smile in the face of the purple monster in front of me. It faltered at my cries, falling into a look of grave concern. She approached, a comely torso slithering along the lower mass of teeth, eyes, and purple slime. As she came closer, I could do nothing but scramble further backward. The bookshelf rocked precariously above us, threatening to topple over onto me, but I was in no condition to think of anything but putting as much distance in between the slithering creature and my person as I could. The Madness of Philip Howard still gripped me, for his memories latched onto my mind like the writhing tentacles of the shoggoth snaking out to ensnare me.

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