Entwined part 3.

Well, what an amazing few days. I'm sorry for not posting yesterday, but I got caught up with various things including the birthday of my good friend Dave, culminating in possibly the best night out I've had in a long while, but today I promise you I'm back on form. I however have given up Facebook for a week to help a friend with her dissertation research, so I'm still pondering how I'm gonna advertise now... I'll figure something out. But for now, it's back to Entwined.

The police had already cordoned off the area by the cafe. This worked in my favour, because it meant there were no crowds when I went to investigate the crime scene myself. The first thing I did was check the street light. "I can't see anything out of the ordinary here Dec, but yer man up here was definitely like us." My brother always had an odd way with words. 'Like us'? I knew all he meant was that this faceless gunman was an Entwined, but he was probably also overwhelmed with whatever spirit had bound to him, which would explain the disfiguration. I couldn't help but think my brother felt somewhat similar about us. Just how much of a monster were we by comparison?

I climbed the street lamp and perched atop it myself, gaining the same view the killer had, assuming that they used the same sort of visual spectrum as a regular person. Sensory abilities, similar to my brother's, weren't uncommon in Entwined. I could see the whole street, see anything I wanted to, or anyone. I looked over to where the bodies fell. It was Shane who noticed it first, pointing my attention to one of the cobbles on the street. I jumped down and walked over, sending a message to my contact Eddie in the morgue. Eddie was a creepy guy, but if there was one thing he knew, it was death. There was a hole in the cobble, causing cracks to form over the surace. It took me a few minutes to fish out the substance that was lodged in the hole with my penknife; I'd assumed it was the bullet from the gun. I was wrong. What I held in my hand wasn't a bullet at all, it was a bone. It looked almost like a fingertip, but elongated, filed to a point and threaded like a drillbit. Whatever this faceless freak was, he certainly wasn't a gunman...


So, now I'm gonna try and figure out how to advertise this blog again without logging into Facebook... Hmm.

Adios for now,
Craiggy.