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the highland heist chapter 11
The massive Macgregor clan partied like there was no tomorrow. They expressed joy beyond all compare to celebrate the impending wedding of the youngest and only daughter of lord Macgregor. Sitting at the end of the large wooden Slaigh and Teagan smiled as they watched their family party. The couple for a majority of the time just sat there enjoying the bliss of the moment as they held each other's hands comfortingly.
After about an hour of silence between the two and the slow music began to play Slaigh turned, "So me lady can I have this dance?" he asked as he stood from his table.
"Oh Slaigh ye know the answer to that!" she cooed as she grabbed his massive hand with her smaller one.
Grinning at her Slaigh then led her to the dance floor once again for a slow dance. Once there they embraced each other and began to slowly glide across the floor. Neither was aware of the world around for several moments. But neither Teagan nor Slaigh noticed a new figure approaching
The highland heist chapter 10
Slaigh stood facing a large open field, glancing every so often at his competition to his left and right. Smirking Slaigh then looked at the ground examining the large log he was getting ready to throw. His only thought was of how easy this challenge was going to be.
After several of the other competitors had attempted to throw their logs it was Slaigh's turn. Grabbing the large piece of wood he glanced over his shoulder only once to glare at the face of Eric McGuffin. Snarling Slaigh then steadied his feet, reared back to herl the log, and then let it fly.
It was a marvelous sight to watch the massive piece of tree fly through the air, landing far beyond where the other logs had landed. Gasping for breath the large raccoon chuckled as the realization of him winning finally struck. Turning to face the crowd the master thief grin only grew as he saw McGuffin's face wide eyed and confused. Once he had his fill of rubbing his rivals nose in it, Slaigh then turned to locate his love Teagan
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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