Ditching the Demons

Extra Bits

Author's Note:

Congratulations if you actually read through to the end. You deserve a cookie. Or at least some extra story bits. And we'll get to that in a moment. But first, confession time.

Truth be told, I actually wrote this story several years ago and recently (after going through and doing a bit of editing) decided to post it here.

I know this isn't the greatest story ever, but that was never my intention. I didn't write the story to be literally appealing, or even cognitively correct. I wrote the story to make me happy. While writing it I had tons of fun. You wouldn't believe how many times I laughed at what the characters said, or congratulated myself on witty narration. I know that that I could do so much more to make it better, but  what I wrote made me happy and that's all that matters.

I do however, have a major rewrite of the story in the works, as well as ideas for sequels. But at the rate things are going, I don't see anything being completed (or even posted) any time soon. If you really want to know more, you can message me and ask any questions you may have. But in the meantime, below are some little random bits I have to offer.

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Extra 1

A little scene that never made it into the story. It shows why Berkham never showed up for lunch the day Myra was kidnapped.

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From deep under the dark and comforting quilt, Berkham could hear the muffled tone of the alarm going off on his watch. It beeped incessantly, piercing into his mind and rudely reminding him that it was time to wake up for the day. Allowing a lone arm to stretch its way out of the warm cocoon of blankets, he fumbled his hand around on the bedside table until it touched the cold metal of the Rolex. He grumbled loudly as his fingers traced over the buttons on the sides. It was early, he had only gotten two hours of sleep, and he couldn't remember how to turn off the cursed alarm.

The noise was so nerve wracking. It reminded him very much of the girl who gave  him the expensive watch. He could practically hear Edith's voice in it's high pitched tone. "Get up!" she said, "Get up, get up, get up!"

Ilum'ma! his mind cursed. That girl was so annoying sometimes. He should have never put down a birthday on Facebook.

Finally, the beeping stopped. His hand slumped and rested on the watch for a moment before returning under the covers. At least something good had come out of that fiasco of a birthday. Myra had given him her first hand-made (and his now favorite) quilt. Like the gift from her sister, the quilt reminded Berkham of its giver. It didn't matter what it looked like, although he was growing quite fond of that as well, what really counted was the feelings he got from it. What he felt was comfort.  And each time he wrapped the quilt around him, he could feel her thoughtfulness in every stitch.

A short time later he rolled over and stretched out across the bed allowing muscles to stretch and joints to pop. It was at this moment he noticed the light streaming in through his windows. It was not morning light. It was "you've waaaay over slept" light. He looked at the watch. It showed the time to be just after 2 PM.

"Urusu!"

"I think you should put down the apple and start looking like you're busy right now, Zak."  A man, about the same age as Zak himself strolled into the kitchen, baring a smug smirk, and a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Zak finished his bite and wiped the juice from his chin with an already stained sleeve.  "And why would I want to do that?" he asked. This other man was of lower rank in the household, and he should probably punish him for the obvious lack of respect. But like their house head, Zak was not very good when it came to discipline. Besides, if his demeanor was anything to go off of, this underling obviously had some information that he was not privy to.