Welcome back, friends and followers, for another Weekend Writing Warriors & Sunday Snippets sampling from Famine. The second read-thru is complete and now the notes and fixes need to go in, then it's off to the editor. In the meantime, random scene selection came up with this horrific moment. Bartholomew (the aesir, for those of you unfamiliar with this story) was visiting a brothel when one of the prostitutes was attacked by a patron.
Another scream accompanied the percussion of feet upon the stairs, and Bartholomew barreled through the wooden door like it was made of twigs.
There was Kelly. Her pale breasts were bloody. There was a serrated knife. There was a man with white hair and empty eyes.
The aesir loathed the ones with empty eyes. He inhaled the woman’s fear and exhaled rage.
Without a word, the man produced a second knife from his waistband and lunged at Bartholomew.
Ugh, I hate that guy, and this scene makes me sad. Sometimes writers are the cruelest people.