Norman X Ray Novels & Stories

Diana said again whilst demonstrating her hand. "I really feel like puking." She groaned out with her eyes closed. __~ Mr Norman paced round his room with a glass of wine in his hand. He slugged down every content in the glass cup at once and dropped it on the table. He sat down and poured in yet another quantity from the bottle. He brought out the reason he has been pacing around from his back pocket and stared into it. Since he came back from the hospital with the woman's picture, he hasn't been himself.

‘Let’s get this done. Inside, the church aisles were a fusion of fading sunlight and deep shadows. Behind the alter rose a huge stained glass window depicting a Benedictine monk—St. Norman himself— etched in thick strips of lead and sitting at a table where a piece of parchment lay propped up against a small lectern. St. Norman had his pink, almost opaque, face turned towards the congregation, his smile rapturous; one hand in the air and the other with an extended finger pointing to the blank pages. His robes and the parchment were constructed of yellow glass, and in the background was a sunset of the deepest red. ‘The window faces west,’ Elmo observed. ‘Ready to catch the evening sun.’

Exactly the kind of thing that could shatter an alliance. “Norman,” I began cautiously, “you know how important Moon Pack is to us. I’ve already spoken to my third son—he’s studying medicine. He could help when he returns. You should not trust just anyone.” That’s when I noticed it—a worn canvas bag on Norman’s bedside table. A relic from another world. One that didn’t belong in this high-rise hospital suite filled with polished chrome and sterile wealth. Norman followed my gaze. Then he looked up and met my eyes.

Unknown "Thank goodness you are awake, Xena," Norman spoke as he held Xena's hands. She squinted her eyes as she adjusted to the light. "What happened, Norman?" Xena asked as she tried to sit up but was held back by Norman. "Please Xena, don't stress yourself," Norman said as he caressed her fingers. "That doesn't answer my question," she snapped, her voice laced with fear. "You took an overdose of drugs," he explained.

she asked, her voice a little too quick, a little too loud. Norman's eyes darted away from her, his body going rigid. He reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, his hands shaking slightly, a silent confession that he was hiding something. He knew his dirty games. He knew that he couldn’t just visit an old associate like that, especially a man who could be a threat. It was an unspoken rule in his world. Never visit a suspect.

Norman sighed, shaking his head. “I need to drink some beer,” he mumbled. “No!” We all shouted at the same time, and he flinched. Even Dexter shouted no. “What is wrong with you all?” He asked, stunned. “You can’t drink beer, for obvious reasons,” I replied, grabbing the towels. “I’m cancer-free now. I’m perfectly okay,” he exclaimed. “It doesn’t matter,” Dexter said, taking the towel. “Why do you care?” Norman asked, rolling his eyes.

Low and unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be and nothing more important than the syllables of my name. I looked up. Norman stood at the hallway entrance in his white coat, a tablet in one hand, looking exactly the way he always looked — composed, professional, and completely unfair. His brown eyes found mine immediately, and something shifted in his expression, just barely. A flicker. Gone before I could name it. He held the door open. “Come on back.” The examination room was small and too bright and smelled like rubber gloves and cold air. Norman closed the door behind us and set his tablet on the counter, scanning whatever notes the receptionist had pulled up.

Klaus asked with obvious bewilderment. "Five. It's better to be safe, so we'll be ready for when you have to make them," Norman explained. ". But Dr. Rohn said that if I start to feel symptoms, we should go for blood tests." "We'll do that too. But in the meantime, we'll have these just in case. Besides, Norman turned to see the Omega in a halt: "Stop contradicting me, a puppy; don't think I haven't noticed; you've been making fun of me," he said with grace and mock indignation.

He made up his mind. He crouched and smiled at Norman who was scared shitless for his life. “Now, if I spare you, that won’t be fair to them, would it?” As Xander pointed his knife to the girls, Norman knew that it was a lost battle. Then he heard Xander’s calm but chilly voice in his ear. “I’m sure they begged you to spare them, didn’t they?” Xander didn’t let him turn his head back. He killed Norman as he knelt before him, looking at those he had killed.