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Cry of the Wendigo

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The Wendigio is a supernatural, cannibal creature of Native American folklore, said to prowl the deep Canadian and Alaskan forests. In the southern United States, its counterpart, the legendary Rougaroo, combs the swamps for victims. On the western plains, it is known as the Camp Eater, devouring whole villages and tribes. All three possess incredible strength and speed, and the hunger of a werewolf. There is no escape for those who run afoul of such a beast.

This tale takes place in the frozen Alaskan wasteland, where an Aleut tribe has always known such monsters exist. They stand ready to kill anyone tainted by the curse.

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The unfortunate young girl’s name was Akkilokipok; in the Aleut language this meant soft snow. And when Soft Snow became pregnant, she swore she had been with no man.

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The Three Dolls

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Maaaammy” “Maaaammy” “Maaaammy”...the woman jolted awake and noticed the sun was going down. Three days before Halloween. The car rumbled on… more and more bone-bare trees appeared as they entered a deep forest landscape. As her little girl slept in the back of the car, Jane Wilson struggled to keep awake, casting the odd glance towards Andrew, her husband, his glasses flashing as he stared ahead, driving the car.

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The Pill

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I say to him “I thought you liked orange juice with the bits in it” and he says “No I like orange juice without the bits in it” and as it’s only been 45 minutes since he told me he bumped into Kate last night and she looked “pretty sexy…like some kind of, you know, hostess”, I take his glass of orange juice (with the bits in it) and I throw it across the room so it hits the corner of his wooden bed frame and smashes across the floor. I’m glad the little pieces of glass fly in all kinds of directions so I can only hope that he tramples on a chunk. I leave his stupid shared house, full of arrogant pigs, and I storm home to think about what I can do next.

I sit on my bed to gather my furious thoughts and then I hear an annoying, high pitched, buzzing sound coming from my dvd player. I consider throwing it out the window but it’s too heavy and I don’t want to make a mess. I pull the plug out and in a state of exaggerated rage I carry it to a charity shop. The sweaty and slightly overweight guy in the charity shop says “Thanks for your donation” and I go home, change my bed sheets and feel much better for 3 minutes. Then I think about smashing up everything in my kitchen but again, I don’t want to make a mess.

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Whizbang the Magnificent

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Whizbang the magnificent, he had added 'the magnificent' himself, had finally done it. After years of searching and studying he had discovered a spell that would transform him into the most powerful wizard that ever existed.

Now Whizbang was not, at present, a great wizard. He had some control over weather, and he was quite adept at handling lightning, but he dreamed of being WHIZBANG THE ALL-POWERFUL! He already had business cards printed, with bold lettering.

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Last one in the office

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From the 27th floor window, through glasses he hadn't cleaned since the morning, Greg tried to see what was destroying Queens and Brooklyn. He and Becky were the last ones in the Manhattan office. It was Friday at 4 pm, when no one at Five Borough Press stuck around, especially in Sales, where potential clients weren't there to schmooze. From what they could see, smoke extended from Long Island City to the Manhattan Bridge in what resembled a still tornado. Helicopters flew back and forth along the East River. Below, sirens overlapped and howls of panic joined the already noisy November wind.

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Rule Number Two

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“Look, you can work me over as much as you like, but you won’t get what you’re lookin for. I run a tight business and I have rules. Rule number one, I never lay eyes on the employer. Rule number two, I don’t quit until the job’s done. Period. That’s the way I run my shop. If I end up strapped to a chair, getting tuned up by some cheap suits, I can’t rat. Bein a rat’s bad for business.” I said. I needed to kill some time; create some space to think. My hands were bound behind me so tight I couldn’t feel anything from the elbow down. Tony’s boys had worked me over pretty good and I couldn’t see out of my left eye.

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The Oldest Woman in the World

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Carlo left his office around eight-thiry in the evening. His wife had told him that she'd be late home because of a work dinner, so he stopped off for a pizza at the Chinese takeaway just downstairs from his flat. As soon as he opened the flat door, he smelt a strange odour like something had gone off- not too strong, but annoying. He turned on the lights, put his pizza down on the kitchen table and checked the fridge. Apart from a carton of milk that went off yesterday which didn't smell yet, he couldn't find anything worthy of emitting such a sharp stink.

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The Point

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"Two hours," Kyle said.

I nodded.

"Two hours and that kid hasn't shut up for one minute.

Ray, let's just blow him away as soon as he comes out of the bathroom, we'll tell Jesse and Jay it was an accident."

"We can't do that.  Now just relax.  It won't be long."

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The Owl's Lullaby

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It was an early morning in the beginning of summer when sunrise gently lit surrounding areas. Leo Benecke paused for a brief moment. He bent down on one knee and touched a fresh grass laden with morning due - a moist kiss of the receding night. The landscape did not change in a hundred miles, but that did not make it any less stunning he felt.

Far in the front, rolling hills were ascending into the sky. Down in the valley a dense cedar forest stood like an impregnable maze. A lifting fog was slowly revealing the Rus River clad with sandy grass on its banks. Let me swim there tonight, Leo thought.

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"Are You A Robot?"

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The wind sighed through the fruit-laden branches that hung over the park bench, sending the apples swaying like dancers in a ballet. The sky stretched overhead, blue and clear and cloudless, but for John Smith, it didn't seem a sunny day.

John sat on the green park bench by the side of the paved walking trail that wound through the park, leaning against the back. His eyes were closed and his head tilted back, the patterns of light and dark cast by the tree twisting across his face. A lady jogged by with earbuds and a stroller, oblivious to the tall man on the bench. He was happy there to sit and watch, or rather, listen, to the world spin around him.

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