The idea that bad luck happens when a black cat crosses your path is completely ridiculous. Maybe if the creature trips you up while you walk, but certainly not in any superstitious way. There are no gods or demons that control our destiny, and carrying a packet of salt to throw over your shoulder as a ward against bad luck is absurd.

Yes, yes, that kitten is adorable. No, I don't want to pet her.

However, didn't we pass a trashcan back there? I did take too many salt packets for my fries. I'll just toss out the extras.

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They called it co-dependent. They labelled it, the need to go from one relationship to another, to never be alone - they labelled it like it was bad. Like it wasn't what everyone did.

Alright, maybe - just maybe - she took it too far, maybe she was a little too reliant on whoever's hand was (by rights) hers at that moment. Maybe it wasn't what they had decided was healthy, but their healthy? They could keep their healthy.

Their healthy was not her healthy, and it wasn't what she wanted. They decided all of these things, using test after...

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The white sedan zipped down the city streets, passing cars frantically, horn honking. Inside, Mark Strickland sat behind the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped it. "You're gonna get us killed before we ever get there," Mary, Mark's wife, said calmly as she reached out and gently held Mark's hand, making him ease up on the hand control which regulated the gas pedal on the car. Her other hand rested lightly on her protruding stomach.

"Sorry," Mark said as he slowed the vehicle down. "I'm just anxious." His eyes lit up as he saw the hospital sign and quickly...

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It's here somewhere.

How did we lose it in the first place? I don't dare say it out loud, because they'll blame me.

We've been at this for hours and still we haven't found it.

I was told to put it someplace safe. Someplace it wouldn't be lost.

But I did. Well, maybe not technically, more like made it impossible to get to. How was I supposed to know they were going to pick this up and ship it out overseas as donations. I blame my crazy Aunt Ida, that woman has a bad habit of promising things to the...

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The light was bright. This made a change from the usual dreary greyness of the sky. I walked along the street whistling to myself, this was the first time I'd been outside in the sun for what felt like months. I could feel a light breeze caressing my face as I strolled into the local park, leaves rustling in the wind, some falling to the ground around me, dancing in sync with the music I was humming in my head. I smiled to myself as birds darted back and forth across the beautiful blue sky.

I found a nice spot...

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"Looking at things changes us so it is impossible to look at anything the same way twice," said Foley.
I did a double take and looked at him again. He had changed: something was sprouting from the top of his head and his eyelids appeared to be melting.
"Is this me or you this time?" I asked him.
He said nothing, but gestured upwards, extending a single finger to the sky above our heads. There was the moon, a milky smudge behind the racing clouds. Suddenly it came into full view and it had changed, too. The moon would never...

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Giving in wasn't an option. She - he'd not had time to ask her name - had wept, pleaded, then finally agreed. Shuddering, the way he'd imagined a suicide would cutting his own wrist, she'd - Hell, he should ask her name at least - placed the unpinned grenades one at a time behind his back.

The release levers successfully pinned between spine and the plastic that had separated driver from passengers, he felt their edges anew as he extended his arms to push against the bus's folding doors.

"Good girl. Get upstairs. When it's safe. When they're all gone....

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I didn't take her seriously. I mean everyone cheats. At least that's what I told myself. I can't imagine my face when she walked in. I remember her words, though. Or rather, her word.

"Mom!"

Everything else was blades and blood. The woman was like a ninja - I would have sworn there were two or three of her. It seems like everything from the past few months flashed before my eyes in seconds.

"We shouldn't," I had protested. "Rachel is...well, she deserves better. We really..."

Rachel's mom was unbelievably gorgeous. Being a yoga instructor hadn't hurt her physique one...

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Safura was stalking her victim. Through the cobbled streets, around the market barrows, past the gates of the jail and under the washing lines strung between the slum buildings of the poor. The bones of an ox; she already had these. The teeth of a hound; yes, these too. Now all she needed was a few drops of blood taken directly from the heart of an innocent child.
The little girl stopped to buy an apple at a stall. Safura waited in the shadows behind. Jane, the stall holder, gave the child a rosy fruit and smiled at her.
"It's...

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I've been following Soulscum for a while now. I don't know what he wants. I don't know why he's here. All I know is that he's left behind a string of broken storefronts and mass hysteria.

I had to do something about him.

He stopped to look through a window. "Maybe he's scoping the place out" I thought to myself. But he turned his head like he recognized something in there. That's when I realized where we were.

Soulscum was squatting right in front of my friend Tim's antique store. Lucy was inside trying to clean the place up a...

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