Most students went home for the holidays, but not us boys at the Reformatory School for Troubled Young Monsters. We had to stay and face the longest, hardest exam of the whole year. That’s what we got for being little criminals.
The morning of the exam, I went to the library,
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“Can you help me?”
Charles blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He was proud to be among the skeptics who placed fairies into the same category as little green men, ghosts, and the Man in the Moon.
Yet there she was, collapsed on the ground in the middle of the rose garden
Pure, icy silence surrounded the cavern as Kai beheld her. She didn’t say a word. No intake of breath, no movement. Her eyes were the last link of life—two swirling, black pupils attached to a young girl’s body of solid ice. But in those eyes, oh, within those eyes the entire galaxy
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The Colt revolver’s song echoed through the barren terrain as gun smoke mixed with heavy snowfall. Marshal Roland Chadwick holstered his firearm, grimaced, and spat, watching bloody saliva crystalize and disappear into the white earth. The image reminded him of a disfigured candy cane. After all, it was Christmas Eve.
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Before I give you my full report, let me clear something up: I really do have a trillion faces. Please don’t ask to see them or we’ll be here all night.
I’m aware I only show four faces on my website: one, me, Derek Organ, Private Investigator;
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A glowing array of dashboard lights illuminated the cockpit. Halpin summoned the viewscreen, swinging the decaying majesty of the dying star into sharp focus. Withered and blue, it shuddered in its death-throes, belching red rings of cosmic flame into the inky void.
“Hello at last.”
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