Short Story

“ Well, I tricked him into following me deep the catacombs of the palazzo and buried him alive and ever since then , I regret it.”

“Funny Johnny, you know what I mean. I need an escort, I don’t foresee any issues getting to General Lane, but I’m expecting trouble heading toward Fredericks from there.”

“I want you to come along with me because every time the killers leave someone alive long enough just for us to ask them a question. That’s why I want you to come along and try to save their life. Do you want to come or not?”

"Yes, I do!" Dad shouts back. I barge into the room to see mom with blood coming from her temple and nose, along with sprinkled on her delicate features. He raises his hand just as I push him away from mom. His eyes turn into an icy glare and his face flushes red with rage. Dad pushes past me as he pins mom to the floor and raises his fist but pauses.

She surveyed her kingdom. A kingdom of concrete and grey, but as far as she was concerned it might as well have been made of gold. The shine of the windows towering up above were her diamonds, and the taxis driving by were her limousines. Her black raw denim jeans, fitted t-shirt, and sneakers were her ball gown and crystal shoes. She has a quality about her that anybody who crossed her path could see. Her blue eyes reflect the silver city and her smile could make you feel warm on even the coldest of New York winter mornings.

“They comes and goes. A good number are connected with the theaters, yes. This is the West End, after all. Theatrical people never stay long anywhere, mind, but I gets my share. They comes and they goes.”

“Well then, are you going to keep talking about Kanohal or are you going to give me your location?” Sabra asked.

“Mr. Tartt? Mr. Tartt?” A security guard asked stepping into the storage closet looking for me. I finished typing the email that was being sent to Kasten VanMeter, a detective that I thought could reveal the suspicious activities happening here at Mount Massive Asylum. I stood straight up, closed my laptop, and walked to the entrance of the room where I was met by the security guard. “Where have you been? They called for you 5 minutes ago.” He asked in an irritated manner. I ignored his question and walked down a long cold hallway to where I was requested. As I entered, the doors slid apart making a whooshing sound. Several men in Hazmat suits glanced at me and then went back to work. I walked in hastily and sat down at my desk.

Roman slumps into the bedframe, retching out a sigh that carries through the room. I remain still by the door, ever so slightly tense with anticipation. My eyes flick to the walls and the tables. There are cigarettes haphazardly scattered across the coffee table by the window. Godammit.

I shoot up from my bed in the middle of the dark in a cold sweat, my eyes adjust slowly as I rub them in the darkness. I glance beside me at a familiar silhouette, it's none other than Thomas and I note his arm carefully constructed around my waist. In the few years I've known him I've realized this nervous tick about him, like a child, he finds the need to cling onto something in order to sleep. There have been moments in the night where I've found him cradling me like a beloved toy in his arms possessively but in the morning he's always gone and he leaves no evidence of his actions.

"William watched Abigail for a moment, noticing her stiff nature. " Abigail, " He said with his tone shaking slightly. William knew something was wrong Abigail was not her usual self.

He continued to talk with no expression on his face, “She was my everything. No one understood me like her. When everyone turned their backs on me, she was there.”

Philip, Kent, Mason, Captain Chez, his five fishermen, the three retired policemen, and many other volunteers went to the bar. Where they met another five fishermen, army personnel, the owner of the bar, bar’s cook, and two scientists from the pier’s museum. The five fishermen who came from sporting goods brought with them boxes of fishing nets, strong ropes, fishing harpoon and metal baseball bats.

A content smile was an immediate reaction to the quip directed at him as he readily turned heel and followed after his roommate, but skillful digits made sure to click the lock in a swift movement as a precaution that would hopefully ensure no intruders were there to greet them upon returning home. Lifting a delicate, well-sculpted brow, he didn’t bother to suppress the slightly startled laughter that slipped passed his lips at the response to his casual inquiry. Keeping his gaze steady, yet light-hearted Rhys removed the obstructive candy he treasured with a resounding pop and dangled it loosely between two firm fingers out of reflex. “Guess the cats out of the bag.” A teasing tone made the comment an off-handed one, and the glinting

Jared sat next to Jensen during dinner picking at his food. There was so much he wanted to say but didn’t know how to start.