Book 3 Special Edition Art (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

Hi all!

Okay, here's another chance to influence history! For this chapter, you get two choices to pick from. Which scene shall be immortalized in special edition history? (note: this isn't the whole scene, both of them are very long)

Tink Battling Enchanted Furniture on Mike's Back

“That’s one way to do it.” He knelt down and let Tink crawl on his back, her legs passing through the loops in his arms. “Ready?”

“Giddyup!” Tink slipped her goggles into place and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. MIke held out his club then opened the door and ran.

The moment he passed in between a lamp with a boxing glove on top and a coffee table, the whole room activated in a chain reaction. Furniture threw itself forward, some of the bigger pieces overlapping with each other and getting tangled up.

The lamp bent over and launched itself like a spear. The boxing glove hit Mike in the face, knocking his head to the side. Tink grabbed the lamp and tossed it to the ground as Mike stepped onto the coffee table. It tried to hop beneath him, and he jumped off of that and onto an angry mini-fridge that was spilling old cans of diet cola everytime it opened its door.

“It’s like the swapmeet from hell.” He jumped on top of a dresser, the drawers opening and closing beneath him. It tried to tip over, but it was too close to one of the pillars and bounced back. Mike used the shift in direction to leap down onto an ottoman. It jumped up and down, but he was too heavy for it. A coffee table turned on its side and rolled toward him. He knocked it aside with the club, causing it to crash into the mini-fridge.

A tea set leapt off of a nearby end table. The pot smashed into the wall behind him and he swung his club, smashing one of the teacups before it could hit him in the face.

“Sorry Chip.” He stomped on another one and kicked over a table lamp. Most of what was in here was junk, but now he faced the strangely stitched couch.

The upper cushions curled like a giant lip, revealing the rows of knives that had been stuck into the cushions.

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Cecilia Crossing Over

The scream never came. Instead, she sang. Rings of light emanated from her body in every direction, passing through the walls and flashing when they passed through a spirit, freezing them in the air. The rings stabilized, wobbling slightly in time with her song.

It was both very beautiful and so sad at the same time. Mike was filled with sadness he had never felt before, tears streaming down his face. The spirits tried to flee, but the rings collapsed inward, drawing them toward the banshee. In the ethereal light, she had never looked more beautiful, her body floating three feet off the ground. She continued her song, grabbing the spirits out of the air and absorbing their light into her body. The room frosted over, ice creeping along the walls toward his bare skin. The light was so bright that he had to squint through his tears. Other voices joined hers, the melody washing over him. He was paralyzed in grief.

“Slan leat,” she said. The space behind her had opened up, bright light blinding him. He could just make out the sparkling blue waters of a large body of water behind her with a glass boat on the shores. He wanted to follow, to see where the boat would take him. His resistance crumbling, he stood, ready to give chase. Butterflies made of light flew across the pristine sand, their wings beating a tune of their own in the still air. He took a step forward, then another.

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Okay, I think you have a very tough decision ahead of you! We've really been challenging Kat so far, so why stop now? Pick wisely!