I'm dead. Really dead. Not in the "there'll be a twist at the end and I'll be saved" kind of way. Just dead.

I suppose you want to know what happened. It was Geoff. In the bedroom with a vase. Not a very imaginitive death, really. But there you go. I went from a person to a statistic in the blink of an eye.

Dying is an odd sensation. Like when you're really drunk or hungover and the room spins when you sit up. It's just like that. I watched as he ran around wiping up the blood, hiding the...

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I saw it then, I see it now but somehow the access or more the feeling of ownership yes the feeling of ownership over the feeling has changed morphed become murky like I am seeing a man who was me thinking the thought but not remembering the thought myself

Orton stretched his arms and yawn smiled for a slight moment and then he pounced

Like the idea was implanted?

He stretched out this last word let it dangle in the dry air of the back office

Jim blinked, stared, coughed

Yes, yes just like just like that an implanted idea...

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I didn't take her seriously. I mean everyone cheats. At least that's what I told myself. I can't imagine my face when she walked in. I remember her words, though. Or rather, her word.

"Mom!"

Everything else was blades and blood. The woman was like a ninja - I would have sworn there were two or three of her. It seems like everything from the past few months flashed before my eyes in seconds.

"We shouldn't," I had protested. "Rachel is...well, she deserves better. We really..."

Rachel's mom was unbelievably gorgeous. Being a yoga instructor hadn't hurt her physique one...

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In the darkened room, the bishop waited, staring out of the window into the dying sun. In the half-light, the Gothic buildings of the Old Town appeared as if bathed in blood. They would be soon.

The princess would come. Oh she might have sworn an oath of loyalty to her brother but in the end words were meaningless. Actions were what really counted. And in a kingdom where son could kill father, could sister not kill brother also?

She had already proved her ability. It was well known that she was one of the most able poisoners in the...

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She by Raerae

I jumped. Yes, I jumped into this fiery ring with full knowledge of what I was doing. I couldn't help myself. She was a wonder to behold. It didn't matter that she was married. It didn't matter that she had children. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Her hair was the most wonderful shade of honey-blond. Her eyes were liquid pools of green fire. Our passion knew no bounds. We lived in a world made just for us. But like all things, our world had an end. She was married. She had children. They were beautiful...

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They crouched to peer beneath the stairs.
The twins had a knack for being in places they really shouldn't and this was no exception.
But really, this time it wasn't their fault.
They were identical in every way. Hair. Voice. Eyes. Mannerisms. Everything.
The two of them together, one would have never outdone the other. They were too nice for that. But if a situation required them to take on different roles, then you know that something is terribly wrong.
The one on the left had tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice would shake now when she talked. She...

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If money was the root of all evil, then wine must surely be a close second.

Jasper gazed through the rosy depths of the wine glass in his hand, observing the scene beyond with quiet detachment. Wine had always mellowed him, left him with a feeling a pleasurable distance from his surroundings, as though nothing that happened would effect him at all. He remembered his girlfriend's anger at his apparent coldness when she informed him of her condition, the way she had yelled and screamed and beat her fists against him as he silently took in her news, analysed the...

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One hundred and eighty thousand pounds. Sterling. Sitting on her dresser, in tight little wads of cash. One hundred and eighty thousand pounds is a lot of money. Hell, before today, one thousand was the absolute maximum I had seen in any one place at one time, and that was in the hands of Stu, the dealer, and he was just flashing it around to show off. One hundred eighty thousand? It damn near crowded everything else off the dresser. And she was just, what, going to leave it there?

"Where's this from?" I asked.

"You know where it's from."...

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The Ministry of Health had issued a flash across every network in the country. You knew it by the sudden crimson blur in your peripheral vision when nearly every screen within three hundred miles was showing the same thing. Such things could cause the closest thing to a standstill in a city of twelve million people.

"Mario, could you turn up the volume?"

"Sure, Jose," he replied.

"... at least fifty thousand have already been affected, with thousands more potentially affected. We strongly recommend wearing a breathing mask or handkerchief as an alternative, to prevent the spread of this endemic."...

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"What is this?" I ask, my voice becoming more and more hysterical with every word I say.
"It's your life." Jordan says. My life? My life is printed in front of me. It's not possible! I know what my life'll be like. I like to swim, I'll be a swimmer. But this book says otherwise.
"The Dramatic and Unfortunate Life of Mary Sue Crawson." I read out loud. "My life is supposed to be perfect. This story says I'll be a representative of a rebellion. I'll lead the world to destroy the government. I'll... I'll... get shot." This can't happen!...

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