The TypeWriter

Section XIII

He never left his house either. He usually had the painter stop buy and pick up the book covers, and he'd ring up a friend to take his work to the publisher

Cucurucho served as a doctor for him and he'd stop by at the start and end of a week

He also found himself playing the role of a therapist at times and now a newly added detective

He found it slightly amusing but had to hurry to his next client so he could visit a certain someone to get his lenses checked.

-

Bad sat at the typewriter until the hour of the horse arrived when he heard the first letter click down

It was followed by a few more as words formed onto the stained page, "Have you awoken yet?"

It was at a pause for a few seconds before Bad realized it was his turn to respond, he shakily hovered his finger over the keys and began to type a response, "Yes. I have."

Once more the clacking of keys by someone unknown rang throughout the lonely, empty, quiet room, "Good. Sorry you went berserk. It was partly my fault."

Bad was confused for a moment before replying, "How so?"

There was a bit of a pause before the clacking arose again, "Well, for starters, I usually place a locking spell on your door. Which I forgot to do. Then, after five or ten minutes you enter a hypnotic trance and you were forced out of it when Dapper came in. Being ripped out from that state messes with your mind so you started attacking, it was terrifying to watch"

Bad was throughouly confused now, how did this person even watch or see anything?

He was unsure of how to respond, then the clacking arose once more, "No need to reply I know what you're thinking. You needn't worry yourself over how or when I can see you, it's only during our sessions of which I can contact and see you."

Bad had to think a bit before he gave his reply, "You still didn't answer how. Who even are you?"

There was a long and silent pause, the silence made Bads sensitive ears ring loudly

"It really messed you up huh. If you look around your room to the only open window, you'll see how I see you."

Bad stopped reading as they were still typing and took this time to look at the window

It was horrifying

Right in the window was a large eye
   There was some space above some the things that blocked the other windows and Bad could barely see other eyes behind them.

Bad turned back to the typewriter terrified, "As for who I am. Well, I'm you really."