Havok Publishing

Sarah Rodecker

The Glowing Purple Eyes of Doom

Halfway down 22nd Avenue, a linebacker wannabe nearly knocked me over. I twisted around him, threaded between a mother and daughter, and sidestepped a yapping fur ball. All the while, my focus never left the woman.
She stood with her back against a storefront wall, staring at me with purple eyes. Yep. Purple.

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Memories from the Past

This town is weird. Everywhere I go feels… familiar. The coffee house on Alexander Street. The library on Main. Even the dingy auto shop on the outskirts of town seems like I’ve lived here my whole life.
Only, that isn’t possible. Is it?
You see, I’m not sure where I came from.

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