You might think by the lateness off this post that I don't like deadlines but the truth is I love deadlines! It's that whooshing noise they make as they fly by.




That's a quote from Douglas Adams if you're interested.




Anyway I'm going to start a little differently this week, rather than just cracking on with the story I'm first going to direct you to Neil Gaiman's 8 Rules of Writing, as he was the primary influence in this story.

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/09/28/neil-gaiman-8-rules-of-writing/







Anywhooooo, now you've read that I shall continue.




Now I think about it its probably more likely I was thrown on the floor of a cell in solitary confinement, as that's where I woke up. I could hear the disant sounds of yelling prisoners, don't know what they where yelling about, probably football, it's what blokes normally yell about when they're in a large group. I don't, I've always preferred solo activities myself. Sorry that's irrelevant, point is, I'm quite a long way from the cells of general population. It was a very dull room, with cold grey walls that stare back at me and a large, imposing, black iron door. The only other thing is a glorified bucket I'm to use as a toilet and a wooden bench with a mattress on it for my bed. Nothing really of note so I take to thinking about how I got here, the faces of all the people who led me here and how selfish and self obsessed people are. I then chuckled to myself at the irony of that remark. I was sitting in a cell selfishly self obsessing about how people being selfish and self obsessed had got me there just in case you missed the irony.

Sorry, underestimating your intelligence again there. That, if I'm honest to myself, is how I actually got here, making the mistake that many intelligent people make, assuming that everyone else is stupid. Oddly, a broken nose, a migraine and the 7 foot square cell I found myself in didn't teach me the error of my ways on that front like they should have. I pull out the deck of cards I swiped from the giant when I knocked him to the ground, and sit and play solitaire. I finish my first game in 3 minutes (I told you I preferred solo activities) so restart, shuffling the cards for a solid fifteen minutes before I do. Truth is, I don't know what to tell you this moment in my life, it's not overly interesting, all I really did was play cards and have brief chats to the guard who brought me my meals three times a day. This being solitary it was another 3 days before I saw anyone who wasn't the guard, so I'll just jump to there.

I was awoken by the yells of a man being dragged down the corridor. He was doing it loudly, which annoyed me at the time because the clock in the corridor said it was in the morning, but more importantly, it annoyed me because I really like my sleep. Only time I'm not getting annoyed at something.

“No, please, you can't lock me in there!” His voice was croakey, he must've been yelling for a while.

“The governor doesn't want you riling up the other prisoners, and you're yelling is doing just that.” The guard clearly doesn't care

“But it's coming for me!”

“oh yeah, the man made of smoke is coming to kill you.”

I got up from the bed and walked to the door. This was either a lead or a nutjob. Either way I was garunteed an interesting conversation. The door of the other mans cell slammed shut but he continued to talk to the guard, despite how indifferent the guard seemed.

“No he wasn't mde of smoke, he came into the room as smoke then turned into a man when he was in my cell. He started to suffocate me, but when my celly turned on the light he'd disapeared. Please if you leave me in here he's gonna kill me!”

The guard had clearly gone. The potential nutter just didn't realise it.

“I'm pretty sure he's gone dude”. I called out from my cell.

“I don't blame him, I think I sound crazy.” There was a clear note of defeat in his voice.

“Don't knock crazy, crazy is Ringo Star being a household name whilst John Bonham is resigned to the realms of pub quiz answers.” I heard him laugh. Good. People are easier to interrogate if they think you're on their side. I continued on. “So this smoke...thing, when it tried to kill you did you notice anything else? Drop in temperature? Strange sounds?”

“Not that I can think of, why?”

“Just asking?”

“Who just asks questions like that?”

“I do!”

“It's an odd thing to ask”

“What can I say, I'm an odd guy. I'm in here because I stopped to gloat. Should've learnt not to do that at my age, so this monster?”

"Is that what we're calling it?"  He replied in an offhand manner.

Yeah. That's definitly what we're going to call it.