**This takes place after chapter one of The Roundhead and before chapter two**
He looks up, across the table, into his friends eyes, who waits with anticipation for his response, and he hands his tablet back.
“Well? What do you think, scary as hell wasn’t it?”
“No,” he says as he leans back in the booth. “It’s lame, I could write a better story than that and I can’t write.”
“What? Are you for real? It was intense, didn’t you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when it first showed up?”
“What? Toby, are you serious? Lines like ‘appearing and disappearing, like a poorly animated cartoon.’ Were so sub-par, actually, it was worse than sub-par, in fact, I won’t even rate it, that’s how bad it was.”
“You’re so full of shit Sawyer, I saw your eyes, you felt it dude.”
“You wish, it was trash, this guy is a total looser, and his story sucks.”
“Whatever, over six million likes and still climbing says different,” Toby says as he swings the tablet back around and places it in front of Sawyer. “Read the comments, everyone loves it, it’s a hit, this guy’s probably going to make a shit load of cash from it, it’ll probably be a movie before the end of the year, and then, you’ll think differently!”
“No I won’t, it’s shit, and I’ll prove it!” he says as he pulls out his phone and quickly opens up his Facebook app, flicking through the latest post of his news feed until he finds a link to the page that’s been shared by one of his friends and presses the share button, adding the message, ‘Does anyone else agree with me that this is a crap story?’ And presses the post button, he looks up at Toby, smiling. “There, we’ll see how many people agree with me!”
Toby laughs, “You’re a dick!”
“So are you,” he says as he gets up from the table.
“What, you going home to cry?”
“No fucktard, I’m going for a piss,” he says as he walks to the back of the café and into the male toilets, he stands in front of the cubical, whistling to himself, before he shakes off and turns around to wash his hands. There, standing a few feet away, looking directly at him, is a young girl, her eyes look like black pools of nothingness and her skin pale, and grey. He feels a small charge of electricity pulsate along the hairs of his arms, and a cold chill run down his back.
“Think you took a wrong turn honey, the girls is that way,” he says pointing towards the door.
“From the words you read its call is heard, burned on your soul now is its word, through the sins of the man and his whispered words, comes the best, comes the demon, on the wings of birds, it wants nothing more but to feed on us all, so be weary, be worried, for it heard your call, you know it, you feel it, so say it with me, say The Roundhead, The Roundhead, The Roundhead and see.” And then she disappears. He feels whatever was left in his bladder, run down his leg as the lights in the small room flicker and explode, leaving him standing in darkness. His mouth drops open, as he stares at his reflection in a mirror above the sink in front of him, he feels the urge to run, to scream, but nothing works, all he can do is watch, as it’s massive, hulking form slowly leans over him, and he feels its putrid, hot breath, on the back of his neck.
FEAR KNOWS YOUR NAME
All artwork by Yazgar, check his stuff out when you can!