Running with a guilty heart that singles out some never ending fight of good and evil, a young sister dares to find the monster that shares her blood.
Three long months since it happened. A body count has begun and peaked. The monster roams, seeking the drug of old, tearing through anything and anyone to get it. Want is a thing of the past. There is only need.
And as the winter wanes the white drug becomes stronger. Ash takes over for snow, and death waits out the end to this horror story.
With the blood and kin of her past up against her, the young sister will be damned before she is dead.
Hope is raw and uncaring in this middling bizarro novella of the Catalyst and Progeny, the Laughing Maggot.
I am an author that tends to write unconventional works of fiction that aim for challenging those who read them. Though they could use a more-so professional touch to them, my books strive to go beyond the norm of contemporary literature.
I've referred to what I do as avant-garde, or anti-novels. My prose and plots are experimental, so if you do not wish to take a chance with me, so shall it be.
But if you will...come with me?