And so it continued. Xavier could not remember a time when he had been so productive. Short stories, poems, dramas, two novels two and he didn't feel tired. Xavier once heard athletes talk about "the zone"; he knew he was hard into the zone. His hands almost worked without him. Xavier was sure that he had dozed off once or twice in the time while typing and had woken up putting on the finishing touches to a piece. Amazing.

Xavier was on his third novel when he heard a knock on his door. He looked up, and for the first time realized how much of a mess the room was. Piles and piles of papers were strewn over his bead, his table, the floor. The knock came again, and Xavier cursed himself while he picked up the papers. He opened the door, and it was Melissa. She shrankback when she saw him, and wrinkled her nose.

"Good lord, Xa. . .Shakespeare. Where have you been?" She pushed her way in past Xavier and turned around in the center of the room. "Apparantly writing, though I don't know how you could do that for a whole week."

"What are you talking about?" Xavier muttered. His mouth felt suddenly dry, and for the first time in his life, he honestly wished Melinda would go away. Go away, and leave him to his writing.

"Xavier, haven't you kept track of the time." Melinda said, slipping for the first time. "It's been a week since you bolted out of Mr. Lee's antique store with that bottle in your hands. I had to hitch a ride froma friend. That didn't bother me, but when you started missing all of your classes."

"So?" Xavier said hotly. "I can miss a few classes if I want. Who are you to say what I can or can't do. Besides, I found a cure for my writer's block." The look on Melinda's face said he couldn't have done better had he slapped her. Xavier tried to calm himself.

"Xavier? What has gotten into you." Her hands reached up to his head, "you look. . .terrible." She pulled a mirror out of her purse and held it up to Xavier. Xavier felt an odd impulse to make the sign of the cross like all the heroes did when they met a vampire or an undead. Nearly all of the muscles in his face had vanished. Xavier never was an active man, but he now looked even less than a shadow of himself. His skin looked clammy and felt even colder. His high cheekbones bored holes into his face weakly covered by his now-pallid skin. Xavier also smelt something terrible and was afraid that it was himswel. Once as a boy, Xavier had gone down to the peat bogs and smelt years of rotting and decomposing. That had nothing on what he smelt just now."What's happening?" he said aloud. Melinda looked upat him, then over to the jar. Her jaw firmed."It's that damned thing." She said, starting towards it. Xavier blocked her.

"What are you doing, Melinda?" he asked. She pushed at him.

"I'm gonna get rid of that thing," she told him. Xavier's blood pulsed, and he pushed her away. "Let me go," she demanded. "Don't you see what that thing is doing to you? Xavier, listen to me. I can't explain it, but I know that thing is hurting you. Just trust me."

"I can't get rid of it just yet," he told her, "Look, we'll go for a walk and that'll clear me up. Just trust me, Melinda." She looked up at him with doubtful eyes. He hurried on. "I'll put it up for a few days, Melinda. I promise." To suit his words, he grabbed the jar and stuffed it in the drawer below the sink.

"Let's go," Melinda told him. "I think that you ought to see a few things." She handed Xavier a typed note. "Mr. Lee told me to give this to you." Xavier looked at it more closely.

Hope you are enjoying my little conversation piece. Remember the price; I will finish the collection shortly.

Back to Part 2 | On to Part 4 | Email me! | Go to Tripod | Back to the Lonely Hearts Club