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Keyr - New Short?
I step out of the shower and into the cold air of the dingy little bathroom, wrinkling my nose in disgust.
Dirty towels and clothes are everywhere, and I angrily scoop up my bag and stalk down the hall to my basement room in the huge training facility.
My room is an old storage room that's been mostly cleared out, save for around 20 boxes piled along one wall and a heap of old quilts that I use to keep warm in the winter.
"It's so cold in here," I mutter to no-one in particular as I drop my towel on the bed and search for my clean clothes in the old vanity dresser they gave me to use. The drawers squeak in protest as I open them, and I make a mental note to sneak some oil out of the Captain's room next time I go upstairs.
As I tug on some underwear and wrap my shaggy black hair in my towel, someone knocks on my door. I finish setting up my stolen speaker system and hit play, attempting to drown out the knocks that I'm almost certain will bring either punishment or a request to train ag
The Family: Part 2
Chapter two- Aaron
Mykel woke me up that morning my dumping a bucket of rainwater over my face.
"Mykel! What the fuck is this!"
I sat up, guitar raised, ready to smack something. Or someone.
Mykel sat beside me, laughing. "Good mooooorning, Q-ey!" he sang, only slightly out of key.
I blinked. "Morning, Myk. Ung. What time is it?" My voice was deep and scratchy.
He smiled. "Four in the morning, my dear. Four AM."
Sitting up, I looked sideways at him. Or rather, at the direction of his voice. Pushing wet hair out of my eyes, I muttered some choice words and asked, "Why on earth did you wake me up so early?"
Mykel's tone was suddenly dark and serious, and though I couldn't see his face, I knew it was grave. "We need to move. Now," was all he said.
I didn't give it another thought but grabbed my guitar, backpack, and guns and slipped out the front door. Soon enough, Myk was right behind me.
We silently set our stuff in the back of my beater white truck, him in the driver's seat and me curl
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More