At sunset, our squad took the rebel bunker, shouting, "Death to the free traders! Death to the free believers!"
Y[or]r!k ad-hoced into their network and sliced the autoturrets. La Mujer Terrible offered up her left thumb, summoning the [REDACTED] to crush the pillbox's polycrete dome. I chewed a Diazepam and steadied the Barrett. No target priority in the fading light. Kill them all.
From the ruin, a sobbing voice rose: "Utinam dirumperes caelos et descenderes!"
And a voice from everywhere answered, "H̷͖̄Ö̴͈Ẅ̷̲́ ̷̩́P̶̱̀Ŕ̴̮E̶̳͝C̵͚̚I̵̊ͅO̸͈̓Ư̵͓S̴͕̒ ̸̪̑T̴̰́Ó̷̠ ̶̜̈́M̵̼̓E̴̪̒ ̸͇̃Ä̶̰́Ṟ̵̐E̵̜͛ ̸͎̓Ỳ̷̫O̸͈̍Ṷ̴̎R̴͕̃ ̶̬͑D̸͎͠E̸͚͘Ã̵͎T̸̤͛H̷̳͐S̵̗͗."
The sun went.
An unseen eye opened.
And it fixed upon us.
Saturday, December 13, 2025
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1 comment:
Creeeeeepy! As usual, Loren, your writing inspires me to up my own writing game and hopefully reach somewhere near your level. Merry Christmas, my friend!
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