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Weekly Contest #68
Angie’s hiding something.Or, maybe that’s not quite right. Too definitive, it suggests she’s succeeding. And she isn’t - not in any way that matters. She keeps shifting her gaze, and her nails are drumming out the theme to Beverly Hills Cop on the table, and she’s already started speaking and cut herself off three times.I doubt it's anything serious. Angie has a tendency to work herself up into a panic over any small thing, and then face any serious problem head on and stone faced. No one I’d rather have at my side in a crisis - she can be a...
Weekly Contest #67
He wouldn’t be my first kill. My hand rests on my thigh. Running my thumb up and down over the fabric I can just feel the bone hilt of the dagger sheathed beneath it, cool against my skin. Neat notches are carved into the base, each a life cut short. No. Definitely not my first kill. Not a hard kill, either. One arm around his shoulder to reel him in, keep him still. The other reaching across his front, pulling back to drag my blade across his throat, before both hand and knife disappear into the overlong sleeves of my gown. One smooth...
Weekly Contest #66
“It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat.” He said it just before I left, the two of us sat in the dark, side by side and pinkies locked. “It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat.” Just that, a single sentence cutting through the night’s silence. An acknowledgement of a sort, the closest thing to a goodbye the two of us would allow ourselves. Of course, I didn’t understand what he’d meant at the time. Too weighed down by the thoughts of what I was about to do, with the uncertainty of my future, of the risk...
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