Exton

The Unformed Plane - Day Five.

Okay, fuck this shit. I'm tired, I'm sore, my feet hurt and anyone with any sense is staying well downwind of me. The fucking monster, whatever it is, shows every sign of leading us in circles for forty days and forty nights - or until we drop from exhaustion, whichever comes first.

Thank the Powers for Drai. I swear, I think he's part bloodhound - he'll come upon some spot that looks no different than eleventy billion other spots we've been and say, without a flicker of hesitation, "It came through here." And off he'll go with me following in his wake like a septuagenarian with lumbago in pursuit of God knows what.

I thought I was pissed at this thing before, friends and neighbors, but now - remember Bruce Willis, in the first Die Hard? "I'm gonna fuckin' kill ya, I'm gonna fuckin' cook ya, and I'm gonna fucking eat ya!"

I'm just about at that point....

And what the hell is Drai made of, anyway? He still looks fresh as a fucking daisy and I feel like hammered shit. More than once I've looked into those goddamn mists and considered visualizing a Taco Bell - but with my luck, the fucking tacos would try to eat me.

You lousy motherfucker... When I get my hands on you....

Gods, I'm tired....