Jasper Jones: A Narrative Fiction

The temptress Jones had sent hadn’t worked and the blood Clement had provided was just enough to put Underhill in the right state of mind. With a clear train of thought Neyvan decided they would leave the next morning, before the sun could rise. He had set up bear traps around the tree line where Jones would normally survey him and he had disguised them well. Everything was in order, the carriage held all of their belongings besides clothes to hold them over until they left. He had booked his schedule for patients, to not raise any suspicions.
Everything rested on Underhill. It all depended on whether or not he could contain himself, and he did most everything in his power to try and remain as human as possible. Juggling his time between children,

Putting the violin in the case and set it by the door, where most of his things were, to make quick escape if necessary. Surely Jones and his men had not rid the forest of all the animals and Clement was for certain he could find at least one small creature to help his father. Creeping through the house he peeked into his father’s room and found him lying face down in his bed, sleeping. Jenna was resting on the couch. He took up the shot gun over the fireplace mantle and the rifle as well. He wanted to be well prepared. Slipping into his boots and thick coat he left the house through the back door in his room and headed for the

To pass the time he went into the kitchen and pulled out the empty wine bottles from the back of the cupboards and readied them, along with large syringes that his father used to cleanly pull blood from his victims. The table he had used to drain large amounts at one time was already taken apart and packed, to not raise any suspicions. With his ear to the door he listened carefully and heard that his father was not yet finished. Placing the bottles by the door, he checked the through cracks of the curtains and was pleased to see that no Jones was lurking in the