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May 5, 2008

Sealyon: The Monday After

As she sticks her gun in her waistband, he grabs her. The doorway was in her blind spot; she never realized he was there. He's slow, but strong.

Fuck.

He's slow enough that she has time to notice him: he seems pretty fresh, and for a moment he actually looks at her. Weird. They don't look at you, they just chew. Arms pinned to her sides; if he'll shift just for a better grip, she could get the gun.

C'mon, you dumb shit, go for my head.

He does, grabs fistfuls of her hair…

What? Did he just say something?

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