The Weekend Writing Warriors blog hop is a weekly event in which writers are invited to share eight sentences from one of their works for other writers, readers and random bloggers to read, critique and comment on. Visit their site by clicking on the button below for a list of other participating writers and share the love! Today’s 8 comes from Pool, my current work-in-progress, in which I get back to my B-movie horror roots and write about monsters who live underground…and die there.
Grief, like evil, had no place among the Hodel clan any longer. Pool nurtured his, but the distress it caused his people could not be ignored any more than the fact that Echo was dead and death meant bad meat. He fought that as long as he could, but grief makes some men want to cleave to familiar rituals—as true for his people as for any human—and in the end, he surrendered.
It hurt to stand. It hurt to sling his arm around her unresisting bulk and pull her along with him. It hurt to make his way down the tunnels to the Pit, so much so that he had to stop several times and wait until the pains subsided. Not all his hurts were physical, but this could not be fathomed and Pool was in no mood for riddles. He ignored his aching chest and hot stomach and dragged Echo away.