Chapter 8The hole was already there, so I leapt through it, no fear of the three-story drop, no fear of anything, really. I felt indestructible, powerful, super-human. Though I realized the term wasn’t quite suitable, all things considered. Heck, even my prick, the beast, was larger, firmer, bouncing along as I sped down the alleyway, opting for backyards rather than the sidewalk, leaping over fences as if they were nothing more than shoe boxes.
But still the pull was there. Steven was gone, the eyes blotted out of my head, but I was charging up Twin Peaks, nonetheless. Only now I realized why: instinct. It was something about that place that made me feel like I belonged. Or at least needed to be. Call it a gut-feeling. Like I was the positive pole, he the negative, opposites attracting.
