Amylia sighed out of boredom. Her netscan visor projected thousands of glowing green data bytes every second like raindrops on her skin. She hid in a corner of the corporate network and watched it all stream by, one useless message after another.
“Bring me my grimoire,” the old warlock said.
“Right away, master,” replied the demon. “What spell shall we cast?”
“A powerful curse. Something truly wicked.”
Because I love old stories and their evolution through time, I want to flip back the calendar pages to the days of the Wild West and pre-statehood Oklahoma to look at the origins of the Western genre.
I turned the corner and there it was ─ the same moss-covered statue I’ve passed at least four times now. Just laughing at me. It knows I’m lost. I’ve refused to let this maze get the best of me, but I feel like I’ve been trying to escape for years. I’m almost ready to give up.
I didn’t trust my partner, but I didn’t have a choice. In an effort to reduce misconduct, we all had to have one. I tried everything to get him reassigned, but Captain Brown said I needed to learn to work with him. No going back to the old ways.
Gail hid in the supply closet with a kettle of hot water. She could hear Mr. Abernathy approaching and calling her name.