№5|Eyes Of Prophecy

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№5|Eyes Of Prophecy
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“Kirkland, I don't know if your deaf, stupid, or both, but when I said to befriend Medusa, what part did you not understand?!” The cloaked woman in the hologram hollered.

“You try befriending a snake girl! She’s weird!” Kirkland scolded, sitting in the broom closet. 

“I don't care! We need her. She has what we’re looking for! Just get your job done.” the hooded woman scolded, ending the call.

“Damn her and her stupid cult.” Kirkland growled, coming out of the broom closet. 

“Everything alright?” Vanessa questioned, looking at him suspiciously. 

“Perfect. Have you seen Medusa?” He asked.

“Yes, but I’m not telling you. After yesterday she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Vanessa replied. Kirkland rolled his eyes. 

“I saw her fawning over that stupid alpha of yours. I don't know why, though. I’m better than him.” Kirkland scoffed.

“Wow,” Vanessa nodded slowly, “what will it take for you to see that my brother belongs with Medusa?”

“What will it take for you to stop seeing that human boy?” Kirkland smirked slyly. 

“Wh-what?” Vanessa stuttered.

“Don't act dumb, Vanessa, I know all about Malakai. How dare you sink as low to date a human.” Kirkland hissed.

“He’s not like the other humans, Kirkland.” Vanessa sighed, shaking her head, “he’s understanding and caring, and-”

“A liar, a cheater, and a baker! Should I go on? I can list other horrible qualities of your mortal if you want.” Kirkland chuckled darkly, “get in my way, and the mortal gets it. Alright?”

Vanessa clenched her fist as Kirkland walked off. One he was far enough away, Vanessa punched the wall, leaving a noticeable indentation in it.

Barron entered Medusa’s room to see she was typing her notes onto her computer. It had been a couple of months since Medusa began her study, and she couldn't be happier. Barron came up behind her, attempting to scare her, but Medusa noticed his presence. “You can't scare me, Barron.” Medusa chuckled, looking at his reflection in the computer screen.

Barron laid his head on her shoulder, looking over it to read the notes, “...wolves have differentiating hunting patterns. Depending on the pack, the pattern arranges from extreme to mild.”

“Sounds good?” Medusa asked. 

“Perfect.” Barron smiled, “now let's go walk around some. I heard Lawrence can make a mean chocolate cake-” he stopped when Medusa let out a belting scream.

“Get out! Get out! Get out of my head!” Medusa fell to the floor, curling herself up into a ball.

Give us what we want!

“I don't know what you want!”

You know, Medusa. Deep down you know what we desire…

WereologyOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora