I did a lot better yesterday than I thought I would. That whole, just-blazing-ahead really works sometimes, because it just gets me over the slump quickly without worrying about whether I'm making good decisions on the details or not. Between work and home, I got out over 2500 words yesterday alone. I'm glossing over potentially important details and whatnot to get there, but the plot is moving along (even if it's at a snails pace). I'm starting to feel like I'm coming out of the funky of the last couple of days.

Of course it's still garbage. And I want to post a excerpt, but scanning through it, I see that there's not a lot I actually want to share at this point. But, by selective cutting, I've come up with this week's tid-bit.

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Working Title: Twilight

Characters: 2 (+1 implied)

Dream Sequences: 1

Body Count: 5 

He kept running, his heart beating in his chest and he turned to see them almost upon him. 

       One was coming out of a small turn and came right at him.

       He fell to the ground and it glided over him, its feet kicking at him as if to make any contact with its prey.

       Suddenly he was armed. 

       He felt an axe or a hatchet in the dirt and he pulled it up as he rolled over on to his front to get up quicker. 

       A second one came at him from his left and he turned as he saw the movement from the corner of his eye. He jumped back as it came down, swinging his arm out and landing the axe in its midsection. He held on to the axe as it planted itself inside the thing and tried to pull him along with it. 

       Instead the axe tore into the creature and down before coming loose. The creature still made no noise, but it twisted and writhed in obvious pain before crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust that faded as it moved into forest.

       Another one came down, its mouth open, saliva dripping out like water, its wings curling to slow down, to envelope him. He swung the axe up and connected with its chin, tearing into it. The mouth slammed shut and a burst of black blood spurt out as if he had crushed a grape. 

       Again, he pulled at the axe as the creature’s momentum threatened to take it along with it as it passed. But this time the axe refused to come free, and as he pulled, the creature spiraled around him to the ground, forcing him to fall as well.

       He let go of the axe and quickly scrambled to his feet, hunched over, scanning for the others. He could hear them, their wings beating the air, but they were above somewhere hidden by the darkness.

       He turned back to the body on the ground and tried to pull the axe free from the thing’s face. The crash into the ground had driven it further into it’s head. 

       He stood up and placed a foot on it’s head and grasped the axe handle. As he did, the beating wings became furious and he yanked at the handle hard. 

       Suddenly, they were upon him. 

       Claw-like fingers on the ends of wings, dug into his shoulder and he turned his head to see one of them on his back. It was so close, he could see the small human-like face. 

It was a dead face with rivers of oozing flesh that was black and grey and in various states of slothing off. It has almost no nose left, a chunk of meaty flesh that clung to the arch between the eyes by a few strings of skin or bone. The eyes were black except for a dull red reflected shine in the pupils, but they too were rimmed with flesh that was dying. 

       The mouth opened, wider than it looked possible, exposing several rows of needle-like teeth and a black tongue that was jagged and misshapen.