“The Vikings turned the catalyst of our time machine, into this?"

“You’re disgusting!” he yelled between heaves.

Myth blinked up at him in vivid purple and vermilion.

“I don’t remember much,” he said, pausing the game.

Mom blames Uncle for passing his love of schlock monster movies on to me.

“These imps, little or big?”

Cheyenne listened to the weak voice of the wounded enemy beside her.

“You’re positive?”

I keep my mistress on the fringe of the dying war.