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Grim Wolf
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The Very Best
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The blade slashed. The terrible figure, the nightmare creature with blade in hand, the gang member hunting him through apartment corridors, resolved itself into a woman, resolved itself into a small frail girl falling to the floor with the back of her clothes cut open, a wound oozing blood. And Alex stared, and his eyes were wide, and his mouth was open and

Not a hero never a hero oh God oh God oh God oh-

Gunshot. Pain.

His head exploded just and he pitched backwards. Fire in his brain, his thoughts colliding wildly in his head. Was this what it was, to be shot in the brain? Did it shatter the think skein of your consciousness and leave your mind fracturing and fragmenting as your face burned?

Is this what he deserved, for killing that nameless girl?

If this is dying, it takes an awfully long time.

It did, didn't it? But he could feel the hot blood. He could taste it, flowing down his face. His thoughts were still whirling, but he could see the dingy roof. He could see...

Fire atop his head. Fire where he'd been shot. He wasn't dead. How? How wasn't he dead? Didn't he deserve to die, for what he'd done? Didn't he? Didn't...

He'd been shot. Someone had shot him. Someone had tried to kill him. Someone had tried to remove Alexander David Tarquin from the face of the earth.

His head burned. Because he'd been shot.

He saw the man standing over the girl he'd cut down. He saw the man holding the smoking gun. He saw the man who would have been his killer. Who might still be his killer.

But he wasn't dead yet. He would not die yet.

He had landed at the end of the aisle. He rolled to one side, the crown of his head burning, out of the aisle. The fire in his head seemed to fill his veins, black out everything but this: the man who had tried to kill him was still holding the gun.

He charged into the neighboring aisle, raced down until he found the right rack, pivoted and hammered into it with one shoulder. It rattled: a another blow, and it tilted: finally, it went tumbling over, towards the man with the gun, towards the woman he'd cut down.
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V6 Players

Tara Behzad: "They don't get to decide how I die."

Lizzie Luz: "I don't want to go."

Alex Tarquin: "No more masks."

V5 Players


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