Good evening readers. As you might know, I'm working on another "horror" collection called "Destroying the Summit". Although this next collection will consist of poetry, there will also be a narration before and after each poem.
That way, the context of each poem will tell a coherent story- closing the books on the Wilson Pike character. Well,at least for the time being. I'm not certain of a release date for this book, but I will provide frequent updates about the progress.
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Pike and Beckett stared at the Highland Building. They knew Marshall Drake was eagerly awaiting their arrival. The facility was guarded by mechanical hounds, but Pike was able to sneak by without being detected. Having been a resident of the Capital for several years, the Warrior understood the importance of remaining hidden from what lurked within the shadows of the failing city.
Beckett admired the Warrior, but perhaps this relied entirely on his fascination. For Beckett, he felt it was nothing less than a miracle he had survived this long. As night grew closer, the pairing knew they soon had to make a move- they had to find a way inside.
"Pike, we're just sitting here. What the hell are we supposed to do?" This from Beckett.
"We'll know in good time", he lamented while drawing from his cigarette, "just trust that gut feeling".
"How am I supposed to trust a 'gut feeling', if I don't know what to do?"
"From what I remember, someone will take the trash in the next few minutes. My friend, when this happens... We need to take this person out. Then we can get inside."
"What about surveillance?" Beckett was puzzled.
"I've got that covered. The cameras for this building are actually in those mechanical dogs- back there." This from Pike, as he pointed towards the entrance to the Highland Building.
"Is that a fucking joke?" Beckett chuckled, then grew concerned.
"Yeah. It was a joke. This isn't going to be as easy as I thought." Pike responded, wiping the sweat from under his eyes.
Pike equipped the binoculars he had stolen from the GCP, and maximized his focus on the right-wing exit of the building which created Toxin 45. Astounded, Pike realized the sole security camera was within sight. Reaching for his pistol, Wilson Pike eliminated the security camera seconds before the maintenance worker made their way through the door. Thankfully, Pike's weapons were equipped with silencers. Now, just one problem remained at hand.
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