Two Door Mulligan_Hide and Seek_Seshat_Never Let A Frying Pan Near Your Head
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Two Door Mulligan
Don’t you dare start me on Schrodinger's Cat or the Lady or the Tiger or Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.” because when you get right down to it, it’s all the same, isn’t it? Our lives are filled with choices and our fate is determined by which door we open or which road we choose to walk down. It all sounds nice and contrite to me, because when you are chasing a suspect of a triple homicide, all that crap flies out the window. My name is Detective Leland Branson Mulligan, but around my precinct, I am known as Two Door Mulligan. Some names are earned while some names are thrust upon the ...
Hide and Seek
Roslyn knew she shouldn’t have been in the Library of Atlantis after hours, and yet there she was, strolling down the hallowed halls of Atlantica’s most treasured archive, with nothing but lockpicks and her wits.Shadows flickered against the walls; their flames had burned low in the midnight hour. Enchanted to illuminated rather than burn, the firelight licked hungrily up the towering shelves as if they were Tantalus himself, yearning to devour. The Hellfire hearth in the centre of the library had been put out for the day as most of the scholars had gone home for the day, but a few still linge...
Seshat
PrologueBooks, a window to the world is a phrase that everyone must have heard at least once in their lifetime. I love books, they fascinate me. I couldn’t even imagine a world without them. Ranging from children’s books to magic scripts, I have read many of them. Part 1“Again?” The librarian frowned at me.“S-sorry,” I apologized.“This is your thirteenth time, The Goddess won’t be pleased you know,” she reminded me.“I-I know,” I agreed.“If you knew, why didn’t you return the book sooner?”“I was busy and I forgot to return them,” I said as I scratched my back.“Busy? With what?” She asked as s...
Never Let A Frying Pan Near Your Head
It’s a very good idea, to be sure. A very wise idea. One that I did not take into consideration as the cook of the house creeped toward me with the frying pan. She had not let me in; in fact she had been very much against it. But the owners of the house didn’t want to be fried themselves by Zeus, so they let me in. Thanks to them, I was in this terrible house. They let me in, but they wouldn’t let me out. Never, in a million years, would I have asked to come into this house if I actually knew what was inside. Like many others, I had been lured by the prospect of treasure, which was somethi...