Post Number . . . uh . . .

Whoa. What has it been, two days? Four days? *random person whispers in ear*
WHAT?! IT'S BEEN NINE FREAKING DAYS?!
My sincerest apologies. I haven't posted in nine days. But with those nine days, guiltily, I've been addicted to the my new game Skyrim. Yeah, I'm a nerd. But aren't we all? Sometimes the inner nerd has to shine.
Anyways, I got my tooth pulled for the first time today. It was just a little tooth (heh xD). It was the first time I've ever had a shot in my mouth. Yes, my teeth are fairly healthy. I've never had a filling before *knocks on wood*
ANYWAYS, I'm going to give you a snippet for today and then go play Skyrim. I'm so sorry xD IT'S AMAZING! But I'm sorry :P
ANY. WAYS. Here it is!

Harry glanced at the lock on his cell, his gaze sharp. He could feel his unnatural fangs grind chillingly against each other as he tensed his jaw, his hands shaking to smash something. He felt like he needed to destroy, destroy, destroy.

   But most of all, he needed to bite, bite, bite.

   It was only a lock. Didn’t the scientists realize what they had made? What he was? Harry wasn’t human anymore. He was more than that. He was a creature in the body of one, a powerful, vicious creature. He couldn’t be controlled – couldn’t be tamed. He was an animal, and animals couldn’t be locked in a cage.

   Harry stood up from the bed he sat on. His black eyes flittered over every detail, every bar in his cell as he analyzed every chip and dent, every tiny detail he could find. The bars were strong. But so was he.

   But this wasn’t a test of strength, no, it was a test of cunningness and knowledge. It was easy to figure out the lock – a key lock, something Harry could easily break.

   Harry grabbed the mattress on his bed. His nails, which had grown into sharp, lethal claws that made his fingers hurt, and flung it off. It smashed into the wall with a thud, and fell to the ground at the back of his cell. Harry looked at the metal bed frame and grinned from ear to ear.

   He reached down and pulled at the thin bed frame. His muscles flexed as he pulled, grunting with effort as his long nails scraped along the black metal. He tugged, and the spring came free, bending off the frame. Harry smiled to himself and looked at it, curled in his hands.

   Harry heard it before he saw it.                               

   Thoughts suddenly flooded his mind, but they weren’t normal. They weren’t his. It was someone else’s, aside from all the others in the same room as him. He had learned how to tune out others if he wanted, but Harry knew different thoughts when he heard them. They were a mix of images and words, feelings that Harry could feel in his mind. Though it was hard for him to feel anything but anger.

   Harry’s head snapped to the side just as he heard the pressing of buttons far away. He could hear things so far away so easily, as if he were listening to music in headphones. Harry could hardly remember what it had been like to be a normal person – just that he was weaker.

   Harry dropped the spring and grabbed the mattress again, slamming it down onto the bed frame and sitting down. He grabbed the twisted piece of metal and stuffed it under him as the door at the end of the hall opened up.

   As if sound broken through a barrier, Harry heard the thoughts of the person walking through. He saw them in his head, imagining them without control. He opened up his mind a little more, feeling more vulnerable but a lot more secret.

   It was a man, Harry realized, a ‘coat. The thoughts intensified as the ‘coat neared his cell.

   Harry, since being able to read minds again, had figured out that a lot of people had general thinking patterns. Some would think in images, some in words, plenty in both, and every thought would connect to another, and another, and another, just like a chain. Harry had time to study this chain and grow used to it. It was like a long line of images and words that Harry ran down, seeing every one as it flashed by.

   This ‘coat thought in images and words, like many people. For Harry, it was like watching a movie, seeing images flash, hearing voices. Some people even thought kind of like movies, as if they’d seen too many.

   A picture flashed in Harry’s head – a girl with blonde hair and a triangular face. She had a bright pink streak down her bangs, and mildly-tanned skin. Before Harry could see anymore, the picture was replaced by words, a mess of them, like they were cut and pasted from different kinds of novels.

   The words echoed in his head. She came back. She found the subjects.

   Suddenly another picture flashed in Harry’s mind – a picture of three kids – two of which who looked extremely familiar. A girl, with long auburn hair. A boy, with dark black hair and icy blue eyes. And another boy he didn’t recognize. He had blonde hair and a certain playful look in his eyes.

   The picture was gone as fast as it had entered, but Harry had caught enough to see the big picture: they all had wings.

   The ‘coat skittered by like a bug, walking quickly as if he were about to break into a run. He never did, but as he passed Harry’s cell, Harry felt his emotions inside his mind. It was like a rope pulling tighter and tighter with each step the ‘coat took, and Harry recognized it instantly. Stress.

   The ‘coat disappeared, and Harry grabbed the spring from under himself and got up, stepping to the lock. He straightened the spring and stuck it in the lock, wriggling it. He heard a click, and it was unlocked.

   Harry had been in the cell for three days. However long it had taken the ‘coats to turn him into the creature he was, he didn’t know. It could’ve been hours, days, weeks. He remembered being taken away from his cell, remembered the ticking of a clock thick in his mind, and then he remembered waking up here in the cell, changed. He liked the new Harry better. He was stronger, faster, smarter, and everything about him screamed monstrous and deadly. Harry loved it.

   Harry slid the cell door open quietly and stepped out into the hall. The faintest feeling overcame him, a feeling of freedom. He could run.

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This was part of a relatively large and very important chapter in the book. The Virals escape the Institute, bringing our post-apocalyptic plot into our book. GAH!! I'm so excited ^^

Now, it IS the weekend so I may or may not be doing something, but I probably will write at some point in time. I'll definitely be playing Skyrim, however. I promise I'll write. I'm not obsessed (well, not really).