A wall of fire outlined the stampede of people rushing toward the door Frank just passed through. “There’s not enough room in the stairwell,” he whimpered, slamming the door behind him, and turning the lock.
Ted’s thrill at getting the job soured when he learned just what his duty entailed. Perhaps he should have asked a follow-up question when he was told that he would feed the animals.
Tears rolled down the twin sisters faces as their home burned. “Justice,” Truth bemoaned to her sister, “there is no place in the world for us now.”
While the undertaker’s wife prepared dinner, her knife slipped, cutting deep into her hand. Her loving husband took her upstairs to tend her wound before returning to clean up the formaldehyde.
For seven weeks Ulyana sent her message through the cold, dark vacuum of space. Rescue came minutes after the last of her oxygen rattled out of her aching lungs.
The extreme heat of reentry allowed the egg-laden parasite to crack its chrysalis shell. Its wings dried fast enough in in the hot, dry Los Angeles air to allow it to lay the first of its thousand eggs before the hour was out.
Ryan thanked the waiter when he dropped off the check, but his delight in the meal withered when he read the bill. “Steak, potato, asparagus and wine – free . . . Antidote – $10,000.00.”
“Don’t answer the door, mommy,” Cassandra murmured in her sleep, her hand tightly clutching the sweat-soaked pillow. Mopping her daughter’s brow, June whispered, “Just rest, honey, the doctors will be here soon.”
His cell was larger than most in Hell. It had to be to fit all the heads that echoed his words.
Angry eyes watched jealously from the cracks in the walls and the darkness of the closet as Joy whispered her prayers. With the click of the lamp the things under the bed giggled.