"Strategic A.I. networked to an army of unquestioning drone bombers. Yes, this is peace in our time... the peace of the grave."
Jane's arm spasmed, ripping loose from her shoulder. Thrashing, it snapped a lamprey's mouth where it was formerly attached.
Confident in his victory, the minotaur lifted the scrawny gladiator over his head. It was then that he found out the kid was a were-elephant.
With a only short knife in hand, the Pict woman met the legionaries with fury. None of her infant son's killers survived her wrath.
He opened the tent flap, letting in the sounds of the river and wild. Lifting her blanket, he welcomed her naked embrace.
A headdress of feathers and bone adorned the orc queen, and her fearsome warriors kneeled in respect to the wizened old matron.
Copyright © 2017 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.