"No shit! Why do you think we've kept you locked away in here?" The man grabbed Evan by the collar and dragged him back to his mat on the floor. "I don't care if you die or not, but Isis thinks you might be important, so I would appreciate it if you would just lie here and wait like a good boy." He emphasized the last two words with another pair of kicks.
Evan sputtered and coughed as he clutched at his ribs. "Stop. I'll stay put. I didn't know," he said.
"Stupid ass." The man walked to the door and opened it wide. "Don't expect any more food today. You've screwed that up for yourself." The man left the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
Related articles
- Battling the headstrong ... (jo1979.wordpress.com)
- Writing with a dash of fear (writeaubreywrite.wordpress.com)
- Time Is the Enemy (faymoore.wordpress.com)
- Write! Right? Right! (greyspacethoughts.wordpress.com)
- Filter? Yeah, right. (adparrish.wordpress.com)

Three miles away a solitary man in an environmentally secure suit of mimetic armor viewed the destruction with detachment. The scope attached to his rail gun was linked directly to his cybernetic implants, so his view could not have been clearer if he had been standing amidst the carnage. Somewhere in the back of his mind he took note of the people bouncing across the ground or blacking out in the lobby, but he did not bother to count the dead; they were inconsequential and his ocular implant noted each death with a cheerful pinging sound that only he could hear. 














