Corey's POV

After seeing Gregor in the lobby when I showed up to my therapy lesson (which was about Gregor, mostly), I was horrified. I knew that he didn't mean to hurt me, and that the floor did the most damage, but still! Just seeing him, mercilessly slaughtering, torturing Lucas's limp body, it was too much for me. I was afraid he would get angry again, and that he would hurt me. Especially after calling him a freak. So I ran out of the building, skipping my lesson. I made a left, and went into the alley between Mel's Hotdogs and Target, thinking I would take a shortcut home. But there were people there.

There were of three of them, in total. They had really odd, medieval clothing, and they all had swords and daggers hanging from their waistline. But it wasn't the clothes I was focused on. They had beautiful, purple eyes, but were deathly pale. Like Voldemort, in a way. But what was really creepy, was that you could see the veins sticking out of their skin. It was more repulsive than scary, to be honest.

"Crap!" I yelled. I tried to turn around, but one of the figures was in my way. "What do you want?" I asked. "I have money, here take my watch! It's antique!" It wasn't, but they (probably) didn't know that.

"We do not want anything," one said. "Just promise us you will not tell a single soul of this experience, undertsood?"

"Got it! I promise!" I hurriedly shook my head up and down. Probably not the best idea since my skull had been recently injured, but I endured the headache that followed. "I'll just make my leave then! Heh heh . . ."

"Wait one moment." Another person spoke. "We have tracked the warrior to this town. Do you happen to know any warriors?"

Warrior? That was new. "Uh . . . no?"

"Useless." He said. Rude.

"Wait." The final person said. This voice was kinder, gentler. And the man speaking looked so as well. "Anastas, he retired from his warrior position, perhaps this child knows him by his birth name?"

"That is quite a possibility, Mareth." Anastas said. These people had very odd names. Where were they from? And who was this warrior they kept referring to? "Very well. Have you, by any chance, ever came across someone by the name of, Gregor Spearman?"

3rd-Person Gregor

Sunday. Tomorrow Gregor would have to go back to school, a week behind, and a total outcast. Not that he wasn't already so, but just more of one now. His father had taken Lizzie back home from the doctor yesterday, saying that it was just a strong fever. Lizzie was on the coach right now, and Gregor was in the kitchen, making a peanutbutter sandwich for her.

"Hey Gregor." Lizzie called from the other room, a slight rasp to her voice.

"Yeah?" Gregor said, walking in, PB&J in hand. He gave it to her.

"Thank you."

"Welcome."

"So. Uh." She mumbled.

"Whats on your mind." Gregor asked.

"Fine. Well, can . . . can I tell you something." Lizzie seemed oddly sad.

"Of course." Gregor said, concerned. Just like Boots, Gregor cared deeply for his sister. Even though they rarely spoke, or even saw each other anymore, Lizzie was still one of Gregors favorite people.

"Well yesterday, some stuff happened." This was sudden.

"Like, what?"

"I sorta discovered something . . ." Why was Lizzie being so vague?

"Tell me." Gregor said.

"I-I uh . . . Well I don't actually have . . . I mean, what I'm trying to say is that — instead of . . . GAH!" Lizzie yelled, slamming her fist into the soft leather of the sofa.

"Whoa! Hey, hey it's okay. You can tell me what's on your mind." Gregor sat down next to Lizzie. "It's fine. You can talk to me. About anything."

"Look. It's . . ." Lizzie took a deep breath and sighed. There was a slight tremor in her shoulders. "I got a bad grade."

Gregor was surprised. Lizzie never did bad in school, but it was also weird that she would make such a big deal out of this. "Well hey, that's alright. Are you scared of telling Mom, or Dad?"

Lizzie hesitated. "Yeah, a bit."

"Ok then, well, whenever you're ready, you can tell them, and I'll be right there, holding your hand."

"Thanks Gregor. That means a lot to me." Lizzie gave a small smile.

"No problem, Liz." The smile grew, as Gregor ruffled her hair, standing up.

"Hey!" Lizzie laughed. Gregor didn't, but then thought back to what Uncle Mike said, and allowed himself a small grin. "You're smiling?!" Lizzie gasped, astonished. "I didn't know such a thing was possible."

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Gregor said softly. "You want me to get that plate for you?" Gregor asked, changing the subject.

"Uh, yeah sure. Thanks!" She said.

"No problem." Gregor responded, taking the plastic plate from Lizzie's hands, all traces of the PB&J gone. "Wow. You really devoured that, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Lizzie smiled. "I shouldn't though." She darkened at this last thought.

"Why not? You okay?"

"Uh — yeah, it's nothing." She said.

"Okay." Gregor said, slightly suspicious. Well, actually, really suspicious. She obviously was not telling him something.

Gregor left the living room, and entered the surprisingly spacious kitchen. It wasn't the best kitchen/dining room, but it definitely wasn't the worst. Just a fridge, stove, two ovens, and a sink and dishwasher. There was also a round, wooden table in the corner, and a pretty nice bar. All with granite counters. There was also a pantry next to the fridge, and some relatively good lighting. Gregor threw the plastic plate into the trashcan, and then sat at the counter, thinking.

Gregor was contemplating something. His uncle had asked him to laugh more, but . . . Gregor didn't necessarily want to. He allowed himself to smile at his sister, but that was all he was willing to do. Was he? His uncle had so kindly offered his house and barn to Gregors family, which was also his, to be honest, and he hadn't even asked anything of them! Not to help with taxes, not to work the barn, nothing! The least Gregor could do was open up. But what was the most he could do?

And that's when inspiration struck.

Gregor stood in his Uncle's barn, teeming with horses, goats, and hay. The chickens and pigs each had their own separate holding pens. Why Gregor's uncle had so many animals (and how he could afford them) was beyond him, but what Gregor did know, was that someone had to take care of them. He had already gathered the eggs in the chicken coop, and fed the pigs, now all that was left was to . . . do something . . ? Gregor decided that the first order of business was to water the mules, no need to feed since they all had hay. But how? There was a hose behind the house, and some buckets with it. Maybe Gregor could fill the buckets, place them in the pens, wait for the animals to empty them, and then repeat! Switching to different pens each time, of course. Gregor set to work right away.

At first it was pretty easy, the animals were quite calm. But near the end though, there was just this one horse. And it was huge! Gregor very slowly entered the pen, and the horse immediately turned and looked at him straight in the eyes. A giant, the horse was pure muscle, and pitch black, with a strip of white on its front right leg, and the top of its back. It's eyes were a luxurious green, filled with intelliegience, and a ruthlessness that almost surpassed Gregor's. Gregor set the water bucket down, and moving at a snails pace, pushed it towards the horse. It watched him the whole time. After a minute or so, the horse dipped its head into the water and started drinking, eyes still on Gregor. Gregor took a small step back towards the door, and the horse's head rose. They locked eyes, and you could cut the tension with a knife. The horse seemed to sizing Gregor up. Judging him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the horse snorted, almost as if it was granting Gregor permission to leave (and it probably was), and then went back to its water. With all the other horses and goats, Gregor had waited for it to finish drinking, and then he would take the bucket back, refill it, and then use it again. This time, though, Gregor simply let the beast have it.

As Gregor left the pen, he breathed a sigh of relief. Even though the horse was probably just looking at Gregor, it seemed to be trying to communicate with him. Odd. Anyway, Gregor want back to giving all the other animals water, and was going to let them all out for a walk, too, but then he noticed it was almost sunset. This was taking longer than expected. Gregor decided he would walk the animals tomorrow. Although, he wasn't really sure what to do the towering black one. And also, where was Uncle Mike? Gregor thought for sure he would cross paths with him throughout the barn, but maybe not.

"I wonder how fast that horse could go at a full-speed-gallop." Gregor wondered aloud. Gallop. Even though the horse probably already had a name like Thunder, or McQuene, Gregor was going to call him Gallop.

"Hear that, bud?" Gregor said, looking at the Gallop over the wood fence. Gallop stopped drinking. "Your new name's Gallop."

Gallop snorted.

"Alright then. Night, Gallop."

"What do you think you're doing?" A voice asked. Gregor turned his head as he shoved the barn doors shut. His eyes narrowed to slits as he looked at the figure, the sun directly behind them.

"Uncle Mike?" Gregor said.

"Well I sure hope so." He said. "I'm wearing his underwear, after all." Uncle Mike chuckled at his own joke. Gregor just gave an awkward smile, cringing more than anything. "Ah." Uncle Mike exhaled. "I see you decided to try smiling."

"I guess so. What do you mean, 'what am I doing?'" Gregor asked.

"Well I just thought you might be one of the few family members, other than your Pop, to actually start helping. But unlike your Dado, I thought that you were only helping because you thought that if you did this, you wouldn't have to grant the one thing I asked of you, and start smiling more."

That was actually, the exact reason! Wait. His uncle had said, "Thought." Did he not anymore? Gregor decided to go along with this theory.

"And you don't anymore?" He asked.

"Oh no." Uncle Mike said. "I still have very firm suspicions. But since you just obviously grinned just to appease me, they have been dimmed."

"Okay." Gregor said, hesitantly. "I was just watering the horses and goats, and I was about to go get some dinner. Originally I was going to walk them but—"

"No need. I walk all the mules in the morning. And feed them then, too."

"So was I not supposed to water them?" Gregor asked.

"It's not necessary, but it doesn't hurt. I should probably let them drink more, to be honest. Especially Jessie. All the other animals I walk, but her, I ride! I mean, she's colossal!" Uncle Mike exclaimed.

"Wait." Gregor started. "Is Jessie entirely black, with some white on his front right leg and back?" Gregor asked.

"You know it!" Uncle Mike said. "Although, Jessie's a girl."

"Really?" Gregor thought for sure it was a male.

"Yeah."

"Huh." Gregor said. "I called her Gallop."

"Gallop." Uncle Mike seemed to be mulling this over. "I like that. Jessie will always be Jessie to me, but it might be interesting to hear you calling her Gallop.

"Maybe." Gregor said.

"Oh by the way, how did you water all the animals, anyway?" Uncle Mike asked.

"I just filled some buckets with water, and then alternated hydrating the animals with them."

"How so."

"I just went into their pens, and sat there until they finished drinking, and then I refilled the bucket, and repeated."

"Rinse, wash, repeat." Uncle Mike muttered. "Wait, you went into Jessie's —or I guess Gallop's —stall, and didn't get trampled? Uncle Mike asked, astonished.

"Yeah, and?" Gregor said, a little blank-faced.

"Amazing." Uncle Mike gasped. Apparently Uncle Mike thought this was the most incredulous thing in the world.

"Why?" Gregor asked, curious, and a bit freaked.

"Well, I'm just saying, the first few times I approached Jess, or Gallop, she totally ran into me. One time I had to visit my chiropractor because she hurt my back so bad, and I found out that she had broken a rib!" Uncle Mike said, smiling. "Total honesty, I actually laughed pretty hard. My chiropractor — Tim, I think his name was — probably thought I was insane!"

"What happened to him?" Gregor asked.

"Tim? Oh nothing. He just moved to Georgia. I think Blueridge."

"Interesting."

"So." Uncle Mike said.

"So?" Gregor responded.

"Nothing. Uh, you should get some rest."

"Okay." Gregor said slowly. He looked around, and saw that it was indeed a bit dark. Gregor brought his wrist to his face, and read the time on his watch. "Wow. 10:33."

"We must've been speaking for a while." Uncle Mike said. "Let's go inside. Lest the mosquitoes suck all the blood outta us!" Uncle Mike joked.

"Let's." Gregor agreed, suddenly much more aware of the buzzing in the air. It was interesting, how if you weren't thinking of something, you would hardly notice it.

"Hey, Greg!" Uncle Mike yelled, already halfway to the porch. "You coming or what?"

"Right." Gregor said to himself. He quickly jogged up to Uncle Mike.

"What're you thinking about, anyway?" He asked.

"Oh, nothing." Gregor said. "Nothing at all . . ." He spoke softly during this last part. Uncle Mike didn't seem to hear.

"Well. Here we are kiddo." Uncle Mike said as they walked up the front steps of the porch. Where was here, exactly? It was just the door. "Dinnertime. The worst meal of the day."

Gregor raised his eyebrows.

"Well, you see," Uncle Mike began, answering Gregor's silent question, "breakfast is the best meal. There's toast, eggs, waffles, pancakes. Lunch is second-best. During Lunch you can get hotdogs, burgers, sandwiches, chips! And finally, there's dinner. Which is where we're at. Dinner is the worst, because of the obvious reasons. All you're allowed to eat are salads, steaks, chicken, pork, barbecue. It's awful! And don't even get me started on the appetizers!" Uncle Mike finally finished.

"That was very unnecessary and unreasonable information." Gregor said.

"Maybe, but it's how I think. It's sorta like the beginning of the day starts out amazing, but then it all goes to garbage." Uncle Mike said.

They were both silent for a moment, standing on the porch.

"What about dessert?" Gregor finally said.

"Huh?"

"Well, dessert is part of dinner. Once you finish the trash set in front of you, you're finally granted the good stuff." Gregor said.

"Wow. I've never thought of it like that." Uncle Mike went quiet.

"Yeah. So it's like you said." Gregor said. For some reason, he felt really open with Uncle Mike, and was surprisingly not as reserved with him. "The beginning of the day is great, or whatever, then everything flops, until the absolute end, when everything is ten times better than it originally was."

"Hmm. That's true." Uncle Mike said. He turned towards Gregor. "You know, you're a pretty smart kid, Greg."

"Thanks, I guess." Gregor suddenly felt slightly self conscious. Although he didn't show it, Gregor hated it when people talked about him, even in good ways, and especially hated talking about himself to other people.

"No really, I mean it." Uncle Mike said. "You're a pretty cool kid, but you hide behind this weird veil or whatever. With my natural charisma and laid back attitude," he joked at this part, "I've never really had trouble talking to people, or getting them to talk to me. Even you! But I've seen you with other people before. When your with me, or your sisters, your pretty fine, but if not, you get all reserved, and depressed! You need to get out there, and live your life! Properly." Before Gregor could respond Uncle Mike opened the door and went inside.

Gregor stood there for a minute or two, thinking about what Uncle Mike had said.

"I could try," he said quietly to himself, "but no promises."

Cha-Ching! Chapter Six, complete! (level up!) This chapter was mainly just dedicated to getting some insight on Uncle Mike, and how his and Gregors relationship is evolving. I know in Chapter four or three or whatever, I said that this chapter would be his first day at school, but I really, really wanted to do a Corey POV. So I promise the next chapter will be Gregors first school day. And also, a shoutout (and answer) to Koipbuiop (my very favorite reviewer), last chapter was when I first had Uncle Mike speak, or introduce him. But I have talked about him in past chapters, although I might've accidentally called him Uncle Tom in chapter two or three . . . I should fix that . . . whatever. There's some background stuff on Uncle Mike in Chapter One, and he's mentioned in Chapter Four. And finally, I don't think I've talked about Gregors Echolocation yet. So, I have a question. When should I introduce the echolocation? Should it be in the next chapter, the next few?

Last chapter I totally forgot to do my whole "Cya'll" routine! I'm so out of it. Anyway, because of my failure of forgetting to say "Cya," I will say Cya twice in this chapter. So—

Cya'll meh peeps! And Cya, at that!

Rotting Hood, out!