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Mitel: A Short Story

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Two men stand in a room. One man’s face is shrouded in darkness, and a large hat crowns his head while a trenchcoat hides his body’s form. The other man is short, stout, and ratlike in his face. His beady eyes dart around the dark room, as though searching for an escape. “Do we have a deal?” A deep, rich voice rings out from the man in the trenchcoat. The short man rubs his hands nervously, and does not respond. “Mitus.” The man with the trenchcoat is more firm now, speaking with an edge of a threat. A beadlet of sweat rolls down Mitus’s forehead as he clutches his hands together so tightly they turn a pale white. Finally, he speaks. “Y-yes, Mitel.” Mitus’s voice is high and squeaky, fitting his ratlike face nicely. Mitel’s face is still

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