5.6K words written today! Yes! YES!!! Here is the daily excerpt.
CORNERS. Draft 1. Chapter 34. The Dead Counsel.
“When you have to figure out death, the best thing to do is to talk to Death itself, right? Right.” The words gave her courage. She knew this wasn’t real. She knew the Red Death must’ve been yet another nice fellow just doing his job in an Edgar Allan Poe’s book, but thinking this didn’t make her less afraid.
“Hello, uh, Red Death?” She said and took a step forward.
The Red Death didn’t move.
“Hi, my name is Bells. I hate to be so forward, and I know you’re not supposed to, but I really need your help. You see—”
The crowd of guests halted in the doorway, surveying their dead host and the Red Death standing above him and a strange looking girl in jeans and a hoodie talking to what was supposed to be the plague itself.
“Err—” Bells looked them over. “I’m so sorry to interrupt the flow of the story on your page, but do you mind waiting a bit behind the doors while I have a word with the Red Death here?”
They stared at her, then at the Red Death, then at her again.
“Okay, this completely unacceptable.” The dead Prince rose from the floor, the dagger still in his hand, and glared at Bells. “What do you think you’re doing, young lady, barging into our book uninvited? Do you know how much distress you and your friends have caused us last time? It took us hours to recover, hours!”
The crowd murmured their agreement.
The Red Death stood still.
“We were in a very bad shape afterwards, and we had to perform for the readers. We don’t get a break here, you know?”
“I understand that.” Said Bells. “I’m sorry about that. Sounds like you need a vacation?”
“Ah!” The Prince theatrically dipped his head back and slapped his forehead. “I can’t deal with this right now. I can’t! I can’t!” And he stormed out of the room.
“Dear Red Death. I need you to come with me to another story. If you wouldn’t mind? I need you to look at something and give me advice.”
The Red Death flipped back the hood and took off the mask. Underneath it a pale young man with a curled up nose and freckled face stammered, “I...I...I’m not going anywhere. No-no. The...the...the last time I went, they...they...beat me up. And for what, I’m asking?” He stood straight, looking very offended. “What did I do? I’m not doing nothing. I’m doing my job. Do you think it’s pleasant kill...kill...killing people off like flies? Not at all. I get nightmares from this.”
“Oh God.” Bells sighed. “I promise it won’t be anything like that. I don’t know what books you went to before, but this is a story I wrote, and it’s very simple, really. There is just this pond, some trees around the pond, and ducks, and we feed them bread.” She reached out for Red Death’s hand, and he jumped away from her like she was made of liquid fire.