Previously...
He decided on the direct approach and exited the motel room with both pistols raised, marching steadily towards the car. A coffee truck was parked at the corner and the driver shouted at the sight of an armed man in the street, as the sedan doors opened and three more armed men appeared, wearing the latest datacore clubwear, sleek and shiny like their computer-modded SMGs.
And then a kid on a skateboard suddenly skidded to a stop between Max and the triggermen. Everything paused and the kid shouted, “Sufrir mi furia justiciera!” Suddenly the gunmen collapsed, shaking, blood running from their eyes and ears.
“Morning Darius,” Max said, holstering Joy and Pain. “That's new.”
Darius smiled. “I was getting tired of Latin, so I started learning Spanish.”
“Cool. Any idea who?” He gestured at the defeated mooks.
“The Manticore Crew. One of the new Legend gangs. They hired a freelance sorceress, which is probably how they tracked you down. But I had a vision during my morning prayer, tipping me off.”
Max nodded. “Well then, coffee's on me.”
20140708
Defrag: Black Magick
Previously...
A few minutes passed. Nothing changed in the city. Someone was on the balcony of the apartment to the left, one storey up. It looked like they were talking on a cell phone.
Something made a shattering sound from the kitchen. Max dashed inside to the bedside table, scrambling for his gun. There was no gun.
Why would you own a gun?
Max ran into the kitchen. It was empty.
Why would there be someone here?
Max sighed. He sat down on the couch, flipped open the laptop. Typed.
Your love is a pareidolia.
There was a loud sound outside, a huge sound. Max dashed back onto the balcony. He was starting to feel dizzy. There were explosions in the city. The figure on the other balcony was pointing into the sky, shouting something.
Max watched the explosions getting closer, screams and sirens rising like a choir.
A few minutes passed. Nothing changed in the city. Someone was on the balcony of the apartment to the left, one storey up. It looked like they were talking on a cell phone.
Something made a shattering sound from the kitchen. Max dashed inside to the bedside table, scrambling for his gun. There was no gun.
Why would you own a gun?
Max ran into the kitchen. It was empty.
Why would there be someone here?
Max sighed. He sat down on the couch, flipped open the laptop. Typed.
Your love is a pareidolia.
There was a loud sound outside, a huge sound. Max dashed back onto the balcony. He was starting to feel dizzy. There were explosions in the city. The figure on the other balcony was pointing into the sky, shouting something.
Max watched the explosions getting closer, screams and sirens rising like a choir.
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