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Weekly Contest #366
Part I: The JudgeThe mahogany gavel lay cold in my palm. From high on the bench, I looked down at the defence table, where a sixteen-year-old boy sat swallowed by an oversized suit, staring at his trembling hands as though they belonged to someone else.The state was asking for three years in a juvenile detention facility. Housebreaking, with intent to commit a crime. One foolish night, and the kind of mistake that can harden around a boy until it becomes his whole life.At the podium, the prosecutor adjusted his tie. His voice carried cleanly...
Weekly Contest #364
Detective Miller watched the room collapse in on itself.Clack, clack-clack, clack.That sound again.Every time Miller heard it, the world made a mistake.The walls moved first, sliding inward with a slow, patient scrape. Then the ceiling lowered, descending by degrees as if something above the room laid a hand against it and pressed down.The door had vanished too. In its place was a sheet of steel fused seamlessly with the wall. Miller blinked, and the steel became dark wood. Another blink, and the wood split into old red brick. The room ...
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