May 17, 2007
As Drognan stood before the enclave, he heard the whispers behind him. “He is old,” the voices said. “He is ready to die.” Even as an infant born into the Deadhorn Tribe, Drognan heard the whispers. “He is dead,” said his father. And the rune of Death was etched into Drognan’s flesh, and Drognan, stillborn, [...]
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November 21, 2002
Most people simply thought he was a poor old man losing his mind to some mental disease. The cops certainly did, keeping their eye on him whenever he crossed the road to his favorite pizza parlor. Every day, as though programmed into his simple mind, the old man would walk down South St. at 2pm, [...]
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