The Viking Journal

So This is Real?

As much as we tried to pretend that the book didn't exist, we couldn't ignore it. I really didn't want to find out what our town was hiding. This was scaring the shit out of my over worked brain. I'm a firm believer in practically anything mythical or from the past. I rarely lived in the present. But this whole thing with the library in a book it shouldn't be in, was way to realistic for me. I liked my myths and legends to stay on the page, where it belonged. Griffon, however scared or freaked out he was, wanted to find out more. And being the loveable friend I am, I wasn't letting him do it by himself.

So here we were, sitting in my room reading all the books we had on Viking mythology.

“This isn't even for my story any more,” I groan.

“You could incorporate it couldn't you?”

“And get negative points for it? No thank you.”

“The story you have now is pushing the limits. Why not break them?”

“Sounds like fun, but I'm the teachers pet remember?”

“Sorry.”

We continued in silence. That was happening a lot at the moment. Yes, we could be in silence around each other and have it feel comfortable. But these new silences felt like one of us was meant to say something. Just as I was about to speak up, a bird flew into my window. Myself and Griffon jumped. I looked at the window and nearly threw up. The bird had quite literally smashed against my window. His guts and brains were displayed on the clear surface.

“That's gross,” Griffon stated.

“That bird must have been going incredibly fast to splatter on my window.”

“Really fast or it was already dead.”

“If it was already dead how did it get up to my window?”

Griffon charged to his feet and looked, past the bird, out the window.

“Because somebody threw it.”

I went to stand next to Griffon.

Down on the street, we could see a man dressed in all black, leaning against a tree in an almost careless manner. Almost careless, as he was staring directly at us. Even as we made eye contact, he kept looking.

“Grif this is terrifying.”

“Why the hell is someone throwing dead birds at you?”

“Does it look like I have the answer to that?”

“We should talk to him.”

“No we shouldn't.”

I turned away from the window and sat back down with the books. My eyes jumped around each page of the open books and I saw an occurring pattern.

“Grif?”

“What?”

“There's birds in these books.”

Griffon turned, crouched and looked over my shoulder. His hand rested on my lower back to support himself.

“Jesus. What is wrong with this town.”

“And why is it always us?”

“This dude is definitely stalking you.”

“But why?” my voice rose a tone.

“Maybe Miss set him onto you for being a smart ass in English?”

“I'm serious Griffon.”

“Well what did you do the entire time I was gone?”

“Wait for you to come back.”

“Besides that.”

“Nothing.”

“You didn't do anything while I was gone?”

“No. What was I meant to do?”

“I don't know. Find a hobby? I started going to the gym.”

“I didn't want to do anything without you.”

“Is that why you wrote me in your story? You missed me that much?”

“My world stopped spinning when you left.”

We were both dead serious.

In one fluid movement, Griffon spun me around to face him. His look was so full of longing and possessiveness that I couldn't look away. His passionate eyes flicked to my lips and back up to my eyes. As he started to lean forward, my window exploded with a shower of dead birds. They fell onto us as hard as hail stones. The last thing I saw was Griffon pulling his arms around to shield me.

Then everything went black.