The doors to the tavern began shuddering. Knock. Knock. Knock knock. Knock.
Tim heard whispering coming from the other side of the door and moved closer to hear. Pressing his ear up against the wood grain, he listened...
"Yes I'm sure. That was the password."
"Do you think Ol' Joe heard?"...
A smile crossed over Tam's face at the sound of Wyllt walking in. His teeth gleamed bright in the eyes of the barkeep.
"Right here, man." Tam spoke aloud, gesturing with his arm to take a seat beside him. He stood from his bar stool and walked over to the entrance of the tavern, then closed...
The next day Tam was released from the medical ward. It was bright outside with the fresh chill of Autumn in the wind. Leaves fell from giant oaks in colorful burgundy around him.
"Krag, Krag you'round?" He heard a voice off somewhere, possibly close by. Is that Wyllt?
Tam tightened the...
Smoke everywhere…
The smell of burning flesh, the air full of screams.
The clean and purified smell of the medical district in the cathedral filled Tam’s nostril as he took a deep breath. His wounds were minor, but the nurses made it clear he needed to rest another day before he could leave...
Finally, it was night...
Grant pulled deep on the lit cigarette between his lips, letting out a long billow of smoke to encompass the gas light he stood under. His black trench coat swayed as he took a step from the sidewalk onto the blacktop, tossing the finished cig onto the ground before...