((quick post for now))
Om had a little skip in his step this morning as he scurried off to Rot's room, the prized sample carefully stored in his belly. He was happy because Key would be okay now. Om really liked Key, she didn't give the awesome-fly-around-the-room-hugs like Angel but she still was a really nice person to hug.
Rot was in a less pleased mood, however. He still had not reattached his right arm (still harder than it looks doing it by oneself) but at least he had washed off the spatters of black. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into space. The Nails... they were getting stronger, more determined. Those rotting, iron-toothed beasts were almost desperate. Their goal was obvious: power. They had set sights on Key, no doubt hoping that by consuming her flesh they would gain her magic. Rot doubted Siana was sent by them, their quarry was of no use dead.
Since Key was proving a harder target to reach, they would settle for Rot. That blasted scarecrow leader of theirs would love nothing more than to personally rip the cursed horns right off Rot's head and absorb the demonic power that may or may not dwell within. Much as he would love to be rid of the damned things, there was no telling what would happen if they were simply pulled out of his head.
At least Om came bearing good news and the sample. With the bear's help the arm was reattached and the crude antidote was ready. Now to get to wherever it was Michael was keeping Key...