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Chapter 17: Drake's secret"Yeah-buh-wha?" Ratchet gabbled. "But she's a...you're a..."
"Adopted, naturally. And before one of you says something like, 'That can't be true!" or "You're kidding!" I must regretfully say that it is true. It all started many years ago. You see, when I took up the reins of Guardian, I was very young, barely in my twenties. My wings had only just fledged enough for me to be considered an adult when my father and older brother died in an accident. By the ancient laws of inheritance, as the middle hatched child, I was in charge. To say I wasn't keen was an understatement. I would have been quite content to live my life in the temple. I was always the studious type, and the Guardianship calls for those of a more....adventurous nature. But I had no choice. I wasn't leading, I was being pushed. And I had inherited a mess.
"The more incarnations the Kaos Entity had, the more it learnt, and the more cunning it got. It was increasing the damage to the Balance, and getting harder to kill. Ther
Into the spiders web: part 2Sargasso. 0845 hours.
Wind rustled the trees. In the sticky warmth of the swamp, insects chirped and whined. And slogging through it all...
"This is foul."
The lead Cragmite was not happy. He was shorter than the others, so mud at waist height for them was chest height for him, and he was finding it hard going.Ratchet wasn't having a good time either. Drake and Jasmine could fly above the mire, but he didn't have that luxury. He didn't complain, however. Considering where they were going, this was nothing...
Gradually the swamp thinned and the trees grew in closer. Before long they stood on solid ground.
"Thank god." grumbled the squad leader, a captain by the name of Breznan. "I hate swamps. Lombax, how far are we?"
"I have a name, you know. And we're about a kilometre away, give or take."
"Stay quiet, then. There could be patrols around."
At his signal, the Cragmites fanned out and began to move forward, weapons primed. For the first few hundred metres, ther
may as well buy another packcollapse, and breathe into the carpet:
sunday mornings are not
for falling apart, but damn
the amphorics, this
is not an atmosphere.
you fell in love like you always
wish you didn't, made all their
smiles replaceable, interchangeable,
fell asleep with shadows and kept
drinking, just letting yourself sleep
with blue pills
and tried not to scream.
(keep this image in your head:
fire and nectarines, a sudden jerk
of realization, inspiration
breaking your neck and leaving you forever
breaking bones is not so different
from breaking hearts - it's all about
the leverage, the angle, the mode
(and at least it wasn't personal;
it can color in your own guilt
for starting lines and never ending
The Panic Room (A Supernatural One-Shot)“Dean…? Dean?”
The name felt like lead on Sam’s tongue, so thick and heavy that he wasn’t sure if the syllable had actually made it past his lips.
The only reason he was aware of something cutting into his neck was the trail of red that was marking a small pathway against the stark fabric of his shirt. The dark suit and tie that usually accompanied the white-collared look were missing, but he couldn’t remember why.
His brother’s name seemed to drop soundlessly into the dark space before him. Everything felt heavy. Dull. Maybe he was dreaming.
But dreams shouldn’t smell of dust and abandonment. They shouldn’t be framed by cobwebs and wallpaper so aged that their floral design has faded into funeral bouquets. They shouldn’t have flickering candlelight and robed figures looking down on you.
No, dreams shouldn’t be like that.
But Winchesters don’t have dreams. They have nightmares. Sam smile
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