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Blood stained the neck of her shirt, in the outline of a bib.The girl wiped her jaw with her forearm, and it came away red." ... what the fuck did you...do, Matt?" she whispered. If there was anything left in her, she would've heaved again.'I murdered Henry Larson, owner of the synthetic Simons, as per our contract, dear.'"Yeah, I can see that. What did you do to me?"'Tch, ' said the AI. 'No lasting damage.'"Matt..."'Fine, fine, if you insist on explanation.' Sounded like a sullen teen, rolling. Those going in knew they were fucked going in with no higher court to complain to. Once the facts were out and the pastor received his inspiration from the Holy Spirit (God pronouncing sentence) those who had to serve under the terms of the sentence had two choices--serve or be excommunicated (cast into Hell while still alive--doomed). Rightness, wrongness, justice or injustice had nothing to do with it, so who does one complain to and about what.In their world, having given their lives over to. Taking the other side of my unzipped jeans in my right hand, I slowly spread my slacks apart, giving him a tantalizing view of my panties. His eyes were getting larger the further I pulled my pants apart. Slowly, I swayed my ass from side to side as I began to push them down, then hesitated when I reached mid thigh. Taking tiny steps I turned around so that now my back was towards him. Glancing back over my right shoulder at him, I wiggled my ass as I continued removing my jeans. Releasing my. I took the towels and dropped them over the bodies and canisters. I then soaked them down with the alcohol and made a tail with one sheet that went to the counter.Taking the old fashioned clock, I taped a dozen of the big matches together. But first, I took one match and taped it to the ringer. I then set the clock and stood the box up. Placing the clock down, I set the match against the striker and let the clock go off. On the first ring, the match lit. I blew it out. I reset the alarm for six.
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His small eyes were bloodshot and rheumy."Bet y'don't," he said, pulling a long pistol from the back of his belt. We were so close together he could n...t really point the thing at me, and it was easy to grab his arm and twist his wrist until he dropped the gun to the table."Let's go outside, Rafe," I suggested, putting on my best smile and squeezing his wrist before I let him go."Shit-kicker," he sprayed in my direction as I turned away. I heard him pick up the weapon, pivoted back and hit him. It just seemed like something was on your mind." He said, and stood up straight. "You haven't forgotten who I am have you? I mean, it wasn't that long ago that we graduated high school." He said, and Clare stared at him a little more.Clare looked over at the young man's name tag. "Kenny." Clare simply said. "I'm sorry. It's one of those days." She said. She remembered who he was, a quiet boy that was in her class. She never talked to him much, only when they would do some sort of assignment. More

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