Monday, September 13, 2010


  I need to go into hiding. Well, more into hiding.

  The last time was too close. Voss and Wolfcatcher won't stop. They can't stop. It's not in their nature.

  So this means I have to go underground even more. No more hotel rooms. No more fake aliases based on Rudyard Kipling.

  No more writing. Not until the chase stops.

  Which means not until Voss and Wolfcatcher are dead. Which will probably not be for a long time.

  So this is goodbye for now.


Thursday, September 2, 2010


   They almost caught me. Voss and Wolfcatcher. I don't know how they found me. I thought I was being careful after last time.

   I was lucky to see them before they arrived. I managed to slip out the bathroom window before they shotgunned the down - no more messing around, no more taking me alive.

   I ran. They followed.
   (You know when you watch those horror movies where the young, blonde victim is running and the killer is doing a slow walk, yet always seems to catch up to her? It felt like that. It felt like I was running so fast, but they could follow me anywhere with a slowly, steady walk.)

   I found a movie theater and decided to hide in dark anonymity. One ticket for whatever.

   Still, they followed. They swept from row to row, looking for me in the dark, only illuminated by the screen. When the screen went bright, I could see their faces: Voss, with his double chin, and Wolfcatcher, with his eerie grin.

   I slipped away and hid in the bathroom. They strolled in two minutes later.

   "Do you ever get that feeling, Mr. Wolfcatcher?" Voss asked.

   "What feeling, Mr. Voss?" Wolfcatcher said.

   "That feeling of singing, Mr. Wolfcatcher?"

   "Can't say that I have. Can't hold a tune worth a damn, you know."

   "Ah, well, I love me a good song. 'Tis sweet to roam when morning's light resounds across the deep. And the crystal song of the woodbine bright hushes the rocks to sleep." As he sang, they opened all the stalls one by one, taking their time, looking around. "And the blood-red moon in the blaze of noon is bathed in a crumbling dew..." They were getting closer and closer. "And the wolf rings out with a glittering snout..." They reached the last stall and carefully pulled out daggers from their jackets. ", to-whit, to-whoo!"

   As they stared in the stall that only contained my jacket, I slipped out of the utility closet and ran as fast as I could.