Greg Vs Raid 9-38

It was weird how news anchors had a certain look to them.  At least the white guys. Maybe it was just the way the newscaster voice required you to speak when you delivered the news to cut out any trace of accent, and it eventually made your jaw and face shape change to kind of…

Grief 7.2 – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – Greg Veder’s eyes blinked open the second a ray of sunlight poked through his well-covered window. Hm.  He lay there for a moment, a frown tugging at his lips as he glanced down at the Eidolon comforter beneath…

  Mob 5.6 – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –​ April 17, 2011 3:28 PM It was an explosion on a scale unlike any Brockton Bay had ever seen before. Not for its sheer destructive power, of course. With no actual combustible or thermic component to it,…

Grief 7.20 The doorbell rang again, the chime crisp and routine, a familiar intrusion into the steady hum of conversation from the living room. Susan smoothed her hands down the fabric of her blouse, exhaled, and opened the door. Another mother, another carefully wrapped package in pastel-colored paper, another child standing half-hidden behind her. The…

Shink. The blade sank in, all six inches embedding deep into the space under his ribs. Sophia’s physical weight was a car crash more than a tackle, all the force of a cinderblock dropped from a third-floor window as her newfound manic strength was enough to take him entirely off his feet. All the air…

Cutscene – Introspections III – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – The corridor stretched before him, pristine white walls and gleaming glass partitions painting a picture of clinical efficiency that bordered on the futuristic. Each step of his white Oxfords echoed softly on the polished floor as…