George met me at the foot of the stairs.What are you planning? I asked as we turned towards the grand ballroom.Just a small demonstration for the public good, he said. I'm so sorry. You're apologizing...
Get up, dear. We do not let our enemies win. We claw their hearts out and devour them.
Ghastek stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping coffee from a white mug that read, Graveyard Shift: We do it in the dark.
Good night, Preceptor. He nodded, turned without a word, and strode down the hallway. He'd walked her to the door. That was almost... sweet.
Her imagination painted Georgie twenty years later, sitting in leg irons before some Broken psychiatrist. Well, you see, it all started with bubbles...
Honey, we can fill this place with what we know and you don’t.
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