Tales of the hunter institute- fiction
Nice cliff hanger and teaser.
@tiggy
Beware the attack cat
She shouldered the black hobo bag as she stepped off the train to somewhere called Kings Row. After being her constant companions for so long, the absence of her pistols was a bit unnerving, and she shrugged unconsciously trying to balance a weight that was no longer there. After the gloom of the train, the florescent lights of the station were a nigh-painful glare, and she squinted as she crossed to the ramp marked Street Level. She allowed herself to be jostled by the crowd, trying to learn again what it was like to blend in. She wasn't skilled at it by any means.
The crowd's proximity set off several warnings in her head, warnings that had been birthed and nurtured by a recent life running from pursuit, from law enforcement, and from close contact with other human beings. She may have dropped her pistols in the waters of the bay, but she was far from harmless. She frowned as she considered how close to painful death these people around her were; one breath, and she could slaughter a dozen. Kill children in front of their parents. Destroy a whole family. The feeling of that power of life and death over innocent bystanders used to bring her to near orgasmic joy.
Now it made her want to puke. Her gut wrenched for a second, and she darted toward a trash can, jostling a couple as she pushed past them. She stood over the receptacle, her face ashy, skin becoming clammy, a tremor to the nerves in her extremities. She grabbed the edges of the can, bending to minimize the danger to those around her. She closed her eyes, certain of what was coming, afraid she couldn't control it anymore.
Then she burped.
She stood still for a moment. The noise of the streets seemed to approach her, as if even they had retreated from her threat. She waited, her fingers still grasping the metal edge of the can, muscles in her arms trembling. Then, the trembling stopped. Her breathing relaxed. She smiled weakly. It hadn't happened. This time.
She straightened slowly, letting the blood return to her head, letting the dizziness subside. Her black leather trench coat, companion and emotional armor since the night she took it off Talon's body, now felt heavy, greasy, as if it retained the sins she had committed in its fabric. It didn't cover anything anymore; it was just dead. She shrugged out of it, careful to remove the shoulder rigs as well. It all went in the trash can. Let a wino find it, I don't give a damn anymore, she muttered.
She stared down at the garment for a moment, slowly becoming aware of its partner on her head. If the trench coat was her armor, the duster on her head had been her helm. It had hid her face from dozens of security cameras and eyewitnesses. Now it just made her hair itch. She reached up and yanked it from her head, shoving it down in the can along with the coat. She reached up with both hands, running her fingers through tangled hair, massaging her scalp. The night air began to seep through the thin newly exposed shirt she was wearing. It felt like being reborn.
************************************************** ******
A neon sign advertising a bar named Mac's shone down over the street as Jill stopped to double check the address of the motel she had booked for the night. She studied it carefully, looking to the nearest corner to confirm she was on the right street. Her gazing about was interrupted by the horizontal flight of a man, groaning as he sailed past her from the front door of the bar. He crashed to the asphalt, and began to stir. A small figure darted by her, stopping next to the man's head. A ponytail flopped as the figure jerked its head toward the man's, and the man screamed as he grasped his head with his hands. The figure took a step back, and launched a vicious kick into the man's ribs. The man screamed again, and curled into a ball protectively.
Stunned by the sight, Jill spoke to the short female, sure it was a child. Are you okay ?, she asked, a sweetness to her voice. The female stopped, muttering Yeah. But he's not !. Then she kicked the prone man again, her body moving to put more force behind the kick. Jill stopped slightly to the shorter female, who turned suddenly, revealing a bigger-than-average bust line for her size. This wasn't a girl, it was a short woman. The face that glared up at her would indicate pissed-off short woman.
The woman blew absently at a lock of hair dangling over her face. And just what the hell do you need ?, she growled. Jill was stunned at the fury of the woman's attack, left speechless. The woman glared up at Jill for along moment, then her face softened in realization. Oh ****..., she began, putting her hand to her lips, a small gasp escaping from behind, You're hear to see Michael Hunter, aren't ya ? Jill grinned, self-conscious at the mention of Hunter's name, and nodded. That's his place...the Hunter Institute, the small woman began, pointing at a multistory building in the distance. He might still be up. They say they all live there, him and the others.
Jill bit her lip, refusing to act like a schoolgirl with a crush. Mike !, she thought, gazing off at the building. She looked down at her rumpled clothing, ran fingers through her tousled hair. I can't see him like this... it'll wait until tomorrow. But thank you !, she smiled. The short woman did not smile back. She looked up at Jill, her blue eyes looking saddened somehow. Honey, when you do go see him... for the love of God, please be careful. She turned and walked back into the bar, leaving Jill alone in the street.
************************************************** ******
The little black dress hung neatly on a hanger. She would wear it when she saw him again for the first time; she wanted no hint of her past to cling to her, she would wear a dress, not mens clothing. She wanted to be Jillian again, letting Jill sink to a forgotten shame like the pistols had sunk into the bay. She brushed her hair, enjoying how it billowed out to frame her face. Then she saw it. Them, actually.
She had forgotten to shave her armpits.
Arms over her head, she frowned at her reflection. Some would call the detail stupid. After months apart, surely Hunter wouldn't care about some stubble. But I would, she thought. She strode back to the bathroom, wetting the razor she had used on her legs as she stood in front of the small mirror. She drew the razor across the skin, each hair falling away like a day on the road here, each stroke cutting away the memories of who she didn't want to be anymore. Finally, it was done. She smiled, and touched the tender skin.
Jill was Jillian again.
She's peeling off layers of herself like an onion.
I just hope she doesn't shed so much of her old self that she can't take care of herself if she has the need.
She's peeling off layers of herself like an onion.
I just hope she doesn't shed so much of her old self that she can't take care of herself if she has the need. |
I'm very interested in seeing how Hunter (and the rest of the gang) is going to react when she shows up.
"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q
I hate to think she's setting herself up for disappointment, but there it is...
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
The face was distorted, clownish in its moon-like appearance. First, one eye grew large in the view, until it almost filled the picture. Then a nose grew toward the camera, like a mountain emerging. The mouth gaped open, a beefy tongue lolling out. Finally, the face retreated, and a club-like fist entered the picture. Slowly, the middle finger began to come up.
“That's lovely, Junk. Outstanding command of the medium there.”, Max sighed over the intercom link. “Get your caveman self back up here and we'll call it a day. That's all the cameras up and functioning correctly. Thank God.” The bearded man rubbed at his eyes as he pushed back from the table. The surveillance cameras were the first of many measures he had suggested to Dr. Hunter to improve security at the Institute. From this location in his lab, he could follow a person through most of the building if he had to. And he hoped he would never have to.
The cameras whirred quietly. And watched everything.
************************************************** **
Jill's heels clacked on the sidewalk as she walked nervously toward the building that had been indicated to her as the Hunter Institute. After so long wearing boots, a pair of sensible heels felt like stilts to her. She had practiced all afternoon walking back and forth across the greasy, threadbare carpet in her hotel room until she was satisfied she wouldn't snap an ankle and end up writhing in a gutter on the way to see Hunter. She grinned self-consciously as she moved, the building now yards away in the late afternoon shadows.
************************************************** ****
With Jill on her way, the woman hiding in plain sight as Hunter's secretary, was nervous, but only from the neck up. She had seen where Max and that oaf that called himself Junk Chunker put up their surveillance cameras yesterday, and played the dumb female as she asked questions of the newest “guest” of the Institute. “How do they all run ? Do you control them ALL from your lab ? What happens if our power goes out ?” And the idiot had answered every question with a smile ! “Men...so simple,” she had thought to herself with a grin.
And she made her...modifications to his system as everyone slept. She had stifled a chuckle as she replaced the last power panel. Once the cameras were.... fixed, she secreted her gear in a corner of Hunter's office. “Office supplies,” she laughed out loud, catching herself as she listened for any indication someone had woke up; “Show can't start early without little Miss Jill as the star,” she thought. But the floor was silent.
She had dressed for success this morning. Underneath her sensible business attire was even more sensible ballistic protection, courtesy of her real employers. Her sources said Jill wasn't armed; “Where she gonna hide it in dat liddle dress ?” the clumsy sounding male voice on the phone had said a short time ago. But she wasn't stupid, despite what she had made Max believe.
No, he didn't remember her from their last meeting as “professionals”. But he would. And when he did, it would be horrifically too late. For everyone.“Max... you got soft, you fuzzy faced *******. And meanwhile, I got mean.”
************************************************** ***
Junk and Spider cuddled on the bed in their room. The day had gone by quickly, both of them busy helping Max work with Robbie in the Smart Armor. After what seemed like hours of repetitive exercises, Robbie had sighed comically, his exaggerated gesturing causing his “friend” Mr. Suggs to mimic him in pantomime. Max had looked at the data, then the couple, and finally Robbie and the stone golem. “That's enough excitement for one day,” he smiled. “Robbie, leave the armor on, but you and Suggs can go play in the courtyard. And you two.... just go. I don't wanna know what you two have planned.”, he smiled. He watched as the four left the lab, Robbie and Suggs going right, Junk and Spider to the left. The heavy steel door whooshed shut behind them, and Max was alone in the room.
He waited a few moments to make sure he wouldn't be disrupted, then the sound of keys tick-tacking whispered in the room. The monitor glowed again, and Max smiled. The Armor held one more surprise, and he was anxious to try it.
But tomorrow would come soon enough.
************************************************** ************************************************** *******
*laughs until I fall into snorting giggles* OMG Junk!!! 8D
YESH! MORE story has magically appeared! Da muses dey be working overtime I see.
@tiggy
Beware the attack cat
The door thudded shut behind Jill with an audible whuff as she entered the lobby of the Hunter Institute. She stopped to smooth her black dress, and let her eyes adjust to the gloom of the area. Unwilled, her gaze darted instinctively around the room until she saw the surveillance camera. She looked down at the dingy tile, cursing the mindset that would not let go, even as she stood in a strange place, defenseless in more than just lack of firepower. Her eyes studied her hands; once they would be occupied with twin .45 pistols. Now they just had imperfect, chipped fingernails. She wanted to be more than what she had become; she refused to quit trying to struggle her way back to normal. She refused to surrender to her past.
Biting her lip in determination, she met the unblinking eye of the camera, smiling and waving in hopes someone would see her. Someone did.
************************************************** ******
The Shooter prepared to greet Jill in a singular fashion. She withdrew the pistol from her purse, checking the action of the slide, checking the spring of the mag, unloading and reloading it with full metal jacketed bullets.
Anyone could kill by making a big hole in someone. The Shooter was better than that. She would greet Jill with a single shot through the heart, and she would do it less than eight feet away from that sullen ******* Hunter. She wanted him to see Jill die before his eyes, knowing there wasn't ******** he could do to save her. With any luck, Jill would be damn near dead before she hit the floor. Sure, the leggy ***** would bleed a little, but hey, can't make a masterpiece without smudging a little paint sometimes.
She slid the mag back into the gun like a sex act, and grinned to herself the same way.
************************************************** ******
Jill coughed once as she approached the elevator. The place was dusty; she wasn't sure what she had hoped for, really, but it wasn't this. She hadn't expected perfect- This is Mike after all, she mused to herself, but she had expected something a bit more professional, not so... One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest looking. The elevator bell dinged, the sound ricocheting off the wall and startling her. The doors opened on an empty car, and she stepped in.
The doors clunked shut, and the car began to move. The butterflies that had been just behind her on the walk here all collided with her gut at the same time, the nerves threatening to make her sick. She closed her eyes, and breathed deeply. Was this a really good idea ?', she mused nervously, and reached for guns that were no longer there. Her hands returned to her fluttering abdomen, clenching and unclenching each other in futile support.
************************************************** ******
Hunter was nervous. When Jill had looked up at the camera, her image went to a monitor over the main door to his office area, and Hunter glanced up at the polite beep it made to alert there was a contact. He recognized Jill immediately, and within seconds emotion began to cascade into his mind. The joy of seeing that face was crippled by the guilt of knowing he had been a ice-hearted ******* the last night he saw her. He would never get that back, never. She had disappeared from his world for months it seemed, and he had resigned himself to carrying the guilt of having failed yet another woman he cared for.
And she was headed up here now. The elevator would open, she would walk out, the second chance he in no way deserved would walk alongside her. Another chance.
The elevator stopped. A chime dinged, echoing down a hallway filled with his nervous energy.
************************************************** ******
Junk took Spider's hand as they walked out of their room, smiling. They had curled up on an old couch in their room, and without a word spoken, watched sunlight play off the surfaces of the walls and furniture as they cuddled. A few minutes ago, Hunter had yelled down the hall there was a visitor, and they needed to come meet her. He sounded excited (For a change, Spider had thought and smiled to herself), so they had lazily rose from the couch, walking toward the office to see what was so damn special.
************************************************** ******
Jill exited the elevator, standing still for a moment as her eyes darted left and right trying to figure which way she should head. Seeing nothing but a door marked STAIRS on her right, she turned left and walked toward the large door at the end. Her heels clacked on the linoleum as she moved toward the door. Her hands clenched again.
************************************************** ******
Hunter moved about the office, pacing like a caged animal. His feelings had swarmed him now, and he was being engulfed in WHAT NOW. He darted around the front area, picking at imaginary dust balls, crumpling papers and throwing them in the wastebasket. He straightened a chair, then again, looking very much like a bear batting about a ball. Finally, he crossed the room, throwing the door open to get a glance at Jill before he was face to face with her. He dashed back behind the desk, now standing at strange attention. He was focused.
He did not see who was behind him. And she was moving as well.
************************************************** ******
Their eyes met at a distance, and as if staged, nervous grins crossed their faces at the same time. Jill quickened her pace as she approached, but Hunter stood still. He wanted very much to move, but could not will himself to.
The Shooter had no such problem.
************************************************** ******
Jill crossed the threshold, her smile reaching her eyes, and her eyes meeting Hunter's. Dust specks in the air, disturbed by Hunter's frenzy, made for a poor-man's star field as they caught the light. Neither of them spoke, the moment framed in silence.
As was the Shooter's sidestep around Hunter.
The Shooter sneezed as she aimed the pistol and fired.
************************************************** ******
As she intended, the Shooter was able to shoot from less than ten feet away. As she intended, it was a clear shot, aimed at Jill's heart.
She had not intended to sneeze.
The barrel of her weapon, advanced as it was and designed for close-quarters work, was still just a tube. A tube that could only deliver a projectile where it was pointed as the projectile left the muzzle.
The bullet crashed into Jill's left breast, dragging fragments of little black dress with it as it plowed through soft tissue. It had only began its vertical tumble as it hit the muscles of her chest wall, the result being a fortunate detour as it passed through a rib, splintering the bone as it went. It crossed the space of her lung in a chaotic frenzy, ripping the tissue as it left. Her skin tore as the metal continued out. The bullet, still intact, shattered the window behind Jill, raining shards into the hallway before striking the opposite wall and stopping.
The Shooter shoved Hunter aside HEY BOSS ? I QUIT !, she shouted at him as she ran out the door.
************************************************** ************************
Jill stood for a long moment. She looked across the space at Hunter, and their eyes met. The blue was beautiful in the sunlight. Her facial features shifted, forming a quiet, confused Why? as her knees began to buckle. She slumped to the floor, landing with a whump.
Hunter remained rooted as the sound disappeared. His mind was overloaded. He gazed down at Jill, the sight of the pain coming over her finally jarring him. It had been less than two seconds as he lunged and dove, landing with his body draped over her to absorb a second shot that did not come. He looked into her eyes again.
Just as she breathed out.
His chest felt it first. The paralyzing mist from Jill's lungs hit him from point blank range. One breath could stop a man in his tracks.
Hunter got a lung and a half.
Even as her mind registered what had just happened, she could not speak. Her past came cascading forth from a treacherous physiology, and would kill the man she never got a chance to love.
The last thing Hunter saw was tears in Jill's perfect eyes.
The last thing Jill felt was Hunter's arms wrapping her in an embrace.
************************************************** ***********************
umm umm.... *cries*
@tiggy
Beware the attack cat
Hunter has the power to heal her wound, but he won't be able to, because he inhaled toxin from the woman he would try to save.
A circularly tragic situation.
Good thing Junk and Spider are there.
"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q
I read it the first time and thought of star crossed lovers dying in each other's arms. I said it then and I'll say it again: A twisted Romeo and Juliet - the classic tale of star crossed lovers, as only our Bamahulkers could tell it.
Wonderful. And I'll also say this: You'd better post again damn soon!
I read it the first time and thought of star crossed lovers dying in each other's arms. I said it then and I'll say it again: A twisted Romeo and Juliet - the classic tale of star crossed lovers, as only our Bamahulkers could tell it.
Wonderful. And I'll also say this: You'd better post again damn soon! |
/seconded
Pax
If you take time to help others, you help yourself grow.
If you take time to help yourself, you realize how far you have to go.
If you take time for chocolate . . . you've discovered the secret to a happy life !
GL & be safe in game & real life!
*hug*
Pax
It was a starless sky the lovers woke to. In fact, no light was visible. Each knew the other was there, and that was enough. “I've missed you,” the man's voice said.”It was your own fault,” the woman's voice replied, a smile in her voice.
************************************************** ******************************************
'MOVE IT JUNK ! WHAT THE **** HAPPENED ?!”, Spider yelled, screaming behind her and looking up the hall at the same. The gunshots and breaking glass had alerted the pair as they walked lazily toward Hunter's office. They weren't walking anymore. Spider got there first, slowing only to traverse the shards in the hall. She entered the office as her boyfriend crunched through the glass.
Jill's head arched backwards; even in shock, she was trying to keep her airway open. Her wheezing was the only sound in the room as she fought for breath, Hunter's bulk fighting against her weakening attempts. Spider looked down at the pair; she had seen trauma, she had seen death. And she knew when one was becoming the other. She freaked.
“JUNK, DAMMIT ! GET IN HERE !”, she screamed, panic entering her voice.
************************************************** ********************************************
Thunder rolled through the absolute blackness. Where there had been only silence, rumbling now crossed the air where the lovers lie. In a primal fashion, they looked about for the source, then realized it was all around them.
************************************************** ***********************
Spider grabbed at Hunter and tried to pull him off Jill. “HUNTER, WAKE THE **** UP !,” she shouted, stress and adrenaline making the normally tomboyish voice start to break. She got handfuls of his shirt and threw her bulk backwards, to no avail. Junk shrugged past her, and pulled with one massive fist. The pair rolled slightly, and he could see Hunter's hands locked behind Jill's waist. “They're stuck,” he grumbled. “UNSTICK THEM ! “, Spider shot back, her eyes beginning to tear, her hands beginning to flap about randomly as the panic started to consume her. Junk reached down with both hands, and pulled up on Hunter. The bodies rose several inches from the ground, but remained locked together.
“He won't let her go,” Junk said flatly.
************************************************** ****************
He felt something pulling, trying to get the woman away from him. He tightened his embrace, locked his fingers together behind her, and pulled her into him. Nothing would take her away. Not again.
************************************************** ****************
“PICK 'EM UP ! GET 'EM OFF THE GROUND ! C'MON, SHE'S STILL ALIVE ! C'MON ! “ Junk rolled the couple, and with a bear-like roar, slung them like a huge sack of concrete over his shoulder. He was starting out the door, when Spider saw The Shooter waiting on the elevator. She hadn't even bothered to holster her pistol.
“***** !”, Spider screamed down the hall at the woman, and lashed out with her power. The battering ram of energy blazed down the empty hall, slamming into the unprepared Shooter as she turned to face Spider. The assassin went tumbling toward the door marked STAIRS.
The young mutant turned back to her own lover as she considered what she needed to do. “Junk, honey... I can hold her off, but I can't do that and get Hunter and that lady to help. You're gonna have to leave with them.” She looked down the hall at the only two exits from the floor, and momentarily panicked.
Sweat beaded on her forehead as her mind redlined thinking of what happened next.
Then she grinned . There was one other way out of here. And that ***** couldn't get to it.
“Junk, bust the wall. “ she growled.
“What ?” he grunted back, shifting the weight on his shoulder.
“Bust...the sheet-rock...go up the ******* stairs... and get them out of here !”, she snapped back.
He looked back at the tenacious young woman, and saw a fury in her eyes that made him believe in her. And it still wasn't quite enough to overcome his instinct to protect her at all costs.
The Shooter stirred on the floor, regaining her feet slowly.
“Gotta do it NOW, Junk ! NOW ! “, Spider yelled at him, flaring her hands in front of her. The force field spread just in time to catch the first shot.
“Junk, Hunter and that woman WILL die if they don't get help. Get up those stairs. There is a phone..”
A second shot slammed into the invisible wall she had made. She winced at the impact.
“Directions are next to the phone.” She paused, looking up at her boyfriend, love softening her gaze for a moment. “Honey, you gotta go. I can do this, but you gotta trust me.” She gestured at the couple on his shoulder. “They're trusting you and they don't even know it. Don't let them down.”
He bit his lip. He was trying not to let Spider see him welling up. He grunted, shifted the dead weight on his shoulder, and threw one hand toward the wall. A large statue appeared with a smell of ozone, and boomed into the wall. A huge hole appeared in the sheet rock, and Junk started toward the opening.
“I'll be back for you.” he said softly, the deep voice softening with emotion.
“Counting on it,” she smiled as another bullet hit the barrier. “Love You, Junk Man”
“Love You, Spider Babe”, he rumbled, and started plodding up the stairs.
************************************************** ***************
The phone was plain and black except for one feature; it only had a single button in the center of the case. As if the designer had anticipated the finder's puzzlement; the first direction on the sheet next to the phone was “Push the Button.”
Squatting slightly, Junk puffed air from his lips to blow sweat away from his eyes, and pushed the button. Almost immediately, the phone rang. He picked up the receiver to hear Clifford Simms' voice at the other end.
“Who is this and what happened ?”, the old man barked. “Uh... this is Junk, Mr. Simms. Doc and a woman visitor been shot by the secretary, and now Spider's pissed her off to give me some time to get Doc and the lady outta here.”
There was a momentary silence, then Simms spoke again, softer now. “Okay son, I want you to listen. I got a call to make. You're in that room so I gotta guess you can't get to the elevator. This is what I want you to do. Make another hole, Junk... blow that damn window out, and a big chunk of the wall with it. Help's coming. Gotta go. ” The line went silent, and the big man was suddenly quite scared.
With a exhaled breath like an agitated ox, Junk set the pair down on the floor. His muscles immediately reacted to the released weight by trying to relax. Junk looked at the confines of the room, then tiredly at the sunlight coming through the window. He squatted in front of the unconscious pair, because he knew he was about to make a very big mess. He closed his eyes, and thrust his hands in front of him.
A wino in the alley two floors down looked up just in time to see a small car body explode from a window, raining bricks and mortar down before it crashed to the roof across the wide alley.
************************************************** ****************
There had a sensation of violent movement for a few minutes, then they had come to a rest. The darkness was still absolute, but judging by the deafening thunder, they must be in the midst of a terrifying storm.
And yet, they did not feel fear. Somewhere in the ether about them, there was tangible hope.
************************************************** ****************
Junk had dragged the bodies to the edge of the hole in the wall. He himself sat slumped, his booted feet dangled into empty air two stories off the pavement. His chin was on his chest. He was near exhaustion. The long minutes he had been resting seemed to be letting the adrenaline fall from him like water going down a drain. He heard a large vehicle pulling up down below, and opened his eyes.
A large ambulance, unlike any he had seen before, was rolling to a stop. Except for the size, it was unremarkable; plain white, no insignia. Once it stopped, he saw the old man spring from the passenger side.
“SEND 'EM DOWN, JUNK ! MOVE IT ! GONNA BE OKAY, BUT YOU GOTTA GET THEM DOWN HERE !” Simms yelled up as a uniformed man removed a large stretcher from the back end of the vehicle.
Junk looked back to the couple, then back to Simms. “HIT THE STRETCHER, JUNK ! MOVE 'EM NOW !”, the farmer yelled back to the youth, as if he could see the confusion from down there. Then Junk understood.
He focused on the stretcher, and hoped this would work. He pivoted at his waist, and moved his hands over Hunter and Jill. Then, he set his gaze back on the stretcher, and snapped his arms back in its direction. There was a whisper of air, and a barely perceptible metallic clank as the bodies disappeared and reappeared almost immediately on the stretcher below.Junk smiled imperceptibly, and fell on his back on the gritty floor behind him.
The uniformed man was joined by another, and the two of them wrestled the stretcher back into the vehicle.
************************************************** ****************
There had been the sensation of flight, but only for the length of half a breath, then a brief jarring. The thunder was subsiding, almost gone now.
A peaceful quiet wrapped them like a blanket, and he felt like he had kept a promise.
************************************************** ****************
“Where's Spider ?”, Simms yelled back up.
Junk inhaled sharply, yanked his legs back from the abyss, and struggled to his feet in a panicked jumble.
The sound of gunshots was getting closer down in the hall.
In all of this, I can't help but wonder what Robbie's doing...
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
Interesting...
"Goodbye, Jean-Luc. I'm gonna miss you... you had such potential. But then again, all good things must come to an end..." -- Q