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One
The Scottish mage had caught an audience of the usual staff and patrons, and sat grimacing on a wooden chair placed near the edge of the establishment he’d entered from the alleyway.
“Let’s take a look at what we’ve got here,” murmured the tall, thin man as he and Denise eased off the mage’s jacket.
After a few moments, he straightened and said, “Doesn’t look broken, but let’s just do a little adjustment, eh Nick?” Continue reading
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The sign over the door read “Deliveries Only.” The Mage lifted his fist to pound, then cursed in pain; his arm refused to obey. Somehow, it’d broken, likely during that final, explosive spell he’d cast. Continue reading
Source: Rawpixel LTD/Flickr
The Scottish mage was used to waiting and recalling old exploits in the interim, but now his mind was filled with Joseph’s life memories, as well as his own more recent times as Shadowman, with Chuckie and Ducks; strangely, these memories seemed more satisfying to dwell on, than the shady shenanigans and shallow alliances he’d made in his prior existence. Continue reading
The tunnel shifted, the river of sewer water belched and dropped suddenly into a steaming waterfall, and the bioluminescence on the walls flared.
“Ruh-roh,” said Andrew as he let go of Joseph and swept the twins into his arms, herding them toward their mother, Bethany, and the gate that led to the relative safety of the mansion above. Continue reading
A sudden puff of air blew upward and over the banks of the underground river, carrying with it a sparkling confetti of brass plaque that smelled oddly like whisky and leather; that odd smell cut right through and sweetened the stink of the sewer, long after the shards had sunk into the tumbling, dark waters. Continue reading
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