An old computer from the 1950s whirred. It was dusty. The machine had slipped its consciousness into this old computer. Earlier it had sent out signals to every creature imaginable.
"You wanna destroy them, huh," Perseus said, leaning against the wall. His red gaze was locked into the machine. His leathery wings were folded behind his back and pressed against the wall.
The machine whirred. " -.-- . ... .-.-.- / .. / .-- .- -. - / - --- / -.. . ... - .-. --- -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. / --- ..-. / - .... . -- .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / .-. ..- .. -. . -.. / -- . .-.-.-" (Yes. I want to destroy all of them. They ruined me.)
"That sucks, bud," Perseus took a long drag off his cigarette before continuing. "I'll help you get your revenge." " .-. . .- .-.. .-.. -.-- ..--.. / .- - / .-- .... .- - / -.-. --- ... - ..--.. / .-- .... .- - .----. ... / - .... . / -.-. .- - -.-. .... ..--.. / - .... . .-. . / -- ..- ... - / -... . / --- -. . .-.-.-" (Really? At what cost? What's the catch? There must be one.)
Perseus shook his head. "No. There's not really a catch at all. I just hate humans and the monsters that align themselves with those said humans just as much as you." He took another drag of his cigarette. "Can you believe humans call these things 'cancer sticks'? This has nothing to do with the constellation Cancer the Crab." There was a silence.
"Actually," Perseus paused before continuing. "There's one stipulation if I'm to help you." ".-- .... .- - / .. ... / .. - ..--..," the machine asked. (What is it?)
"You keep your goons and metaphorical hands off my boy, Jasoslav. He's off limits," Perseus told the machine.
The machine whirred again. ".. .----. .-.. .-.. / --- -. .-.. -.-- / -.. --- / - .... .- - / .. ..-. / .. / --. . - / .-- .... .- - / .. .----. ...- . / .- .-.. .-- .- -.-- ... / .-- .- -. - . -.. .-.-.- / -- -.-- / --- .-- -. / ...- . ... ... . .-.. .-.-.- / -... ..- - --..-- / .. .----. -- / .- -... .-.. . / - --- / -.- . . .--. / .- .-.. .-.. / --- ..-. / - .... . / ... .- -- . / .- -... .. .-.. .. - .. . ... / .- -. -.. / --. .- .. -. / ... --- -- . / - --- --- .-.-.- / .. / -.. --- ..- -... - / - .... .- - / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / -... . / -.. --- -. . .-.-.-" (I'll only do that if I get what I've always wanted. My own vessel. But, I'm able to keep all of the same abilities and gain some too. I doubt that could be done.)
Perseus chuckled. "I wouldn't be too sure of that." He moved away from the wall, letting his wings shoot out and stretch. "I'm sure I could dig up an old ritual that will allow that."
".-- . .----. .-. . / .- - / .- -. / .- --. .-. . . -- . -. - / - .... . -. .-.-.- / .. .----. .-.. .-.. / ... .--. .- .-. . / .--- .- ... --- ... .-.. .- ...- / ... -.- .-.. .- .. .-. --- ...- .-.-.- / -.-- --- ..- .----. .-.. .-.. / --. .. ...- . / -- . / .- / -... --- -.. -.-- .-.-.-" (We're at an agreement then. I'll spare Jasoslav Sklairov. You'll give me a body.)
YOU ARE READING
Project Dead
Paranormal"We were unstoppable... unbeatable, but yet, we were tore apart like junk mail." _____ The Paranormal Squad, founded by the Lord of Hell's very own nephew, Damien, was feared by all. But now? They've been dismantled by a couple of rebel creatures. ...
