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At this time of year, the beach is deserted.

  • At this time of year, the beach is deserted. There is little sound, save for the crashing waves and the brittle leaves of trees blowing in the wind. Unexpectedly, I hear footsteps.
  • Despite the soft, inaudible sand; this blissful silence heightens my listening, and the footsteps echo as they approach closer and closer.
  • I reach out, and discover that my weapons have gone from my grip. Beginning to grow a little panicked, I search fruitlessly for something that I can use as a makeshift weapon.
  • My fingers scrabble uselessly along the ground, coming up empty. Just as I was about to give up hope, my fingers closed around something hard and round, though I wasn't sure what
  • It turned out to be a cafeteria cookie from work that had gotten out of my pocket, those cookies are the deadliest weapon know to man. I knew what I had to do.
  • I hurled the thing with deadly precision across the room and it struck the skull of my nemesis. Blood shot from the wound like an uncapped fire hydrant.
  • It was over. At last, it was over. The world was finally safe from this creature, thanks to me. The bloody pile before me would move no more; destroy no more. I breathed a si
  • -ckening bouquet bubbling from the bloody body. My lungs burned like a billion red hot needles poking my alveoli! The agony! I LIKED the agony! I shoved my face into the mutilated
  • chocolate-covered fire ants. It was painfully delicious, a sickly sweet but short end to one of the strangest nights of my life.

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