I'm nearly finished with the series. I have about 30,000 words left (it'll be three books).
Here's an unedited snip.
The Death of Caesar Wells
"Five hundred years.
That’s how long it’s been since Manny kept me in his little torture chamber. Five hundred goddamn years.
I think I finished the last of these chronicles a hundred years ago. I haven’t put pen to paper since then. I imagine I’m the only person alive still using paper to write down anything, but that’s what I have right now. Ink and dead trees.
Caesar’s next stage is beginning and I guess that’s why I’m writing again. One of my assistants says the first writings improved my recovery by forty-five percent. Amazing how one would calculate that given they’re not inside my head.
I owe Caesar that, I guess. He keeps The Genesis out of my mind. I don’t know what they do while I’m sleeping; anything is possible, I suppose. Maybe they’re watching while I sleep. Maybe they see the same nightmares I do.
No one read my first papers: The Life of Caesar Wells.
The whole manuscript sits in a drawer untouched since I put the last word on it.
No one will read this either, especially given what’s coming: The Reckoning. Apt name, though I’m sure The Genesis doesn’t approve. No worries, they won’t have to deal with it for much longer; the people who named the coming atrocities will be dead.
I’m finding it hard to organize my thoughts, to be honest. Perhaps that’s just the rust falling off, though I wasn’t much of a writer to begin with.
The Life of Caesar Wells. That’s where we were.
The man that I knew, that I followed, well he dies when The Reckoning begins. So that seems like an apt name for this next part, no? The Death of Caesar Wells. I chronicled his life by living next to him. Now I’ll watch it all from this fortress, and I’ll survive it all because of this fortress. Both my captor and savior, which is to say, Caesar is my captor and savior.
I think about Jerry sometimes. A bastard if there ever was one, but he held conviction. Certainly more than Caesar. And … maybe Manny was right about him. Manny couldn’t accept that Caesar was chosen as savior. He didn’t think Caesar was the right choice.
Turned out, he wasn’t.
And what would Jerry say now, if he still lived?
Disappointment isn’t a strong enough word, but I’m not sure the English language contains one, for that matter.
What about the rest of us? I haven’t thought of them in so long that it truly seems like those people and places were different lives. I know I’m reminiscing here, but if I’m going to chronicle this, I need to remember everything correctly. Or, at least, I need to remember what I can.
Paige. The best of us.
Grace. The best of Caesar.
What if they were here to witness what their hero, what their goddamn savior, was about to do? They would, without doubt, disown him. Even his lover, Paige. And me? What will I do as I’m the only one still alive and watching?
I love Caesar. That hasn’t changed, and won’t if I live another thousand years.
I also hate him, though. I hate him for what he’s about to do.
I told you on the first page I wrote that you wouldn’t like how this ends. Now, I can only say I don’t know how it ends, but I know it’s going to get a lot worse before it can ever get better."