One of These Doomsdays, Chapter Nine

Gretel thought they should keep going. Felix wanted to stay. They argued in hushed whispers upstairs while Bree stayed in her basement sanctuary.

“She’s nuts,” said Gretel.

“Didn’t you say we’re all nuts?” he replied.

“Yes, but she’s a special kind of nuts. She’s going to kill us if we stick around. I was worried about you killing me, and you’re stable. But she’s strange. And I don’t trust her.”

“You’re saying you trust me then?”

She didn’t answer that question. “This lady is out of her head, and if you think I’m going to stick around, waiting for her to stab me in my sleep, then you’re more nuts than she is.”

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Set Dressing (exerpt)

“Do you ever notice in those stories that some hero will come across the monster’s lair or a castle of death or whatever, and there’s usually a pile of corpses to indicate he’s in a dangerous place?

“Where do you think those corpses come from? They’re the bones of everyone who quested before but failed. Every sad sack who thought he was the hero of the journey, but actually was merely a nameless dumbass who got himself killed. Everybody wants to be a legend. Most people end up as set dressing.”

-Helen and Troy’s Epic Road Quest

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One of These Doomsdays, Chapter Eight

She was short and plump with long blonde hair held back in an off-center scrunchy. Her ponytail jutted to the right. The gasmask completely covered her face and made her voice sound electric.

“Who the hell are you?”

She adjusted the bag of groceries in her left hand while keeping her gun pointed at them. Felix held up his hands. Gretel kept hers on her hips.

“I’m Felix. This is Gretel.”

“Are you zombies?”

“Do we look like fucking zombies?” asked Gretel.

“Don’t know. Not really sure what zombies look like. Hadn’t seen any until today.”

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Legends (short fiction)

Korak the Bold woke with an arrow sticking through his head. He suspected something was wrong immediately. The goddess of death walked among the corpses, collecting souls and stuffing them in her bag. From one angle, she appeared as a seductive young woman. From another, a withered old crone. And from just the right viewpoint, she looked like both at once.

“Oh, hello. I was wondering when you’d wake.” She gathered a small gray soul into her hand and studied it with her hollow eyes. “This one’s hardly worth my time.”
Korak surveyed the dead piled around him in the pass. Two dozen soldiers. All killed by his hand as he bought precious time for his retreating unit.

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