talien
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Player of Hell: Part 3 – Welcome to My Home
A motley parade followed behind the blood-drained graduate student holding out an MP3-player before him: a mystic with a leather patch and two agents armed with a supersoaker and a fire extinguisher.
The MP3 player led Mays through a very bad part of town, but nobody crossed their path. If the denizens of New York City were interested in harassing them, they thought better of it.
Mays pointed at a pile of old boxes behind a locked gate. "She's down there."
Caprice took two tools out of one of his pockets and fiddled with the lock for a moment. It sprung open.
Hammer shoved the boxes inside, which revealed two heavy metal doors. He wrenched the doors open. Steps yawned into the darkness below.
Caprice pushed Mays ahead of him towards.
"Wait, I don't want to go inside!" wailed Mays.
"Don't be such a baby," said Caprice. "We may have trouble finding her down there."
Hammer put his flashlight headgear on and scanned the area.
The room they entered was decorated as a strangely incongruous but tastefully decorated living room. Alcoves all around them were filled with what appeared to be valuable works of art. On the far end of the room was a broken gate, hanging off its hinges.
"She turned to mist, right?" Caprice asked Archive.
"Yes. She could be anywhere."
"Then we have to draw her out." Caprice waved Mays over. "Come here."
Mays edged over to Caprice. "What now?"
"Give me your hand."
"Why?" asked Mays, his voice rising.
Caprice sighed. "Just give me your hand!"
Mays put his hand out. Lightning quick, Caprice slashed his palm with a knife.
"AHHH!" screamed Mays, clutching his dripping hand. "You cut me!"
Hammer rubbed his forehead. "Hot Pants …"
Stumbling away from Caprice, Mays wailed and plunged into the dark gate on the other side of the room.
"What?" asked Caprice. "We have to lure her out!"
Then he ran after Mays.
A motley parade followed behind the blood-drained graduate student holding out an MP3-player before him: a mystic with a leather patch and two agents armed with a supersoaker and a fire extinguisher.
The MP3 player led Mays through a very bad part of town, but nobody crossed their path. If the denizens of New York City were interested in harassing them, they thought better of it.
Mays pointed at a pile of old boxes behind a locked gate. "She's down there."
Caprice took two tools out of one of his pockets and fiddled with the lock for a moment. It sprung open.
Hammer shoved the boxes inside, which revealed two heavy metal doors. He wrenched the doors open. Steps yawned into the darkness below.
Caprice pushed Mays ahead of him towards.
"Wait, I don't want to go inside!" wailed Mays.
"Don't be such a baby," said Caprice. "We may have trouble finding her down there."
Hammer put his flashlight headgear on and scanned the area.
The room they entered was decorated as a strangely incongruous but tastefully decorated living room. Alcoves all around them were filled with what appeared to be valuable works of art. On the far end of the room was a broken gate, hanging off its hinges.
"She turned to mist, right?" Caprice asked Archive.
"Yes. She could be anywhere."
"Then we have to draw her out." Caprice waved Mays over. "Come here."
Mays edged over to Caprice. "What now?"
"Give me your hand."
"Why?" asked Mays, his voice rising.
Caprice sighed. "Just give me your hand!"
Mays put his hand out. Lightning quick, Caprice slashed his palm with a knife.
"AHHH!" screamed Mays, clutching his dripping hand. "You cut me!"
Hammer rubbed his forehead. "Hot Pants …"
Stumbling away from Caprice, Mays wailed and plunged into the dark gate on the other side of the room.
"What?" asked Caprice. "We have to lure her out!"
Then he ran after Mays.