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He was a fisherman and a liar, which is pretty

  • He was a fisherman and a liar, which is pretty redundant. But he also looked like a soldier from the civil war. He had that kind of boyish face with serial killer eyes and

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  • a horse with a musket holster, dressed in Confederate garb. He tricked it into fishing with him by saying there were oats in boats (not a lie, but misleading). One night, a storm

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  • blew in off the coast, picked up our supply of oats 'n scattered 'em all around. I guess that's how the oats got in our boats. You never can tell. As the mounted soldier stepped in

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  • Area 51, he donned his cloak and dagger. He put on his mask as well. I knew this was not Halloween so this was even more nightmarish. What the hell?

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  • He unzipped the corpse bag revealing a slim smooth grey skinned body with a largish head and overlong fingers. I watched in horror as he poised his dagger over the sternum

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  • . "Are you sure you're doing the right thing?" I asked. "Remember what happened in Roswell." He didn't answer, silently making a neat incision through the creature' s abdomen.

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  • Having cut the mysterious creature open, my companion reached into its abdomen & pulled out a rabbit, then a string of colored silk handkerchiefs, two doves, and a xenomorph. Shit.

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  • She offered me the handkerchiefs, but they were covered in the creatures blood and as I wiped my sweating brow the thickening blood left a smear across my foregead...

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  • She stared at the smudge, decided to lick her finger and rub the blood off. That was the first time an outside had touched me.

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  • On the inside we both felt like outsiders, and blood was the life. "Welcome to my world," I whispered as wolves howled around us.. Her world went dark.

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