Bubba wasn’t his real name, but he doubted Filch was the thief’s real name anymore than Chief was the boss’. You don’t disclose your identity when people consider your job deceptive. Intent on the monitor, Bubba watched it stutter and go blank, and Chief scrambled to pack their equipment. Filch had two minutes to get out before they’d leave without him. They’d spent weeks prepping for this operation. The risk was high, but bragging rights for having a flying sleigh…
Georgie glanced at Dad in his favorite Christmas sweater stringing colorful lights across the front of the house. This used to be Georgie’s favorite holiday, too, until all the kids laughed at her during lunch today. “Santa’s not real,” Georgie said. Dad arched an eyebrow. “Says who?” “The kids at school said Santa’s for babies.” “Well, I believe in Santa.” Georgie rolled her eyes. “You’re thirty, Dad.” “Sure, but every year I get what I ask for.” “You ask for…
Alice roamed the abandoned mansion, ignoring cobwebs and creaky floors. Wind fluttered through a cracked window, the curtain billowing in the breeze. She watched a dark, bruised cloud cover the harvest moon before heading downstairs. Voices still haunt her, creeping into dreams that wake her and send her scurrying for cover. Years of experience taught her how to hide amongst the shadows, move unseen through the oversized house. In the living room, she watched the newcomer try the light switch,…
The detective scrutinized the clue on the table before flicking his gaze to Linus. Middle-aged paunch hung over his waistband, hairline receding, stained fingers played a nervous staccato on his thigh as Linus tried to ignore the lifeless body in the nearby chair. “Any visitors?” the detective asked. “No one visits the old bat.” “Tea?” the Detective pointed at a mug. Linus nodded, eyes twitching. “There’s tobacco leaves floating amongst the dregs.” “I added ginger!” “Yes, to mask the tobacco….