“What if we put a bullet right in the back of your head? You’re running, what’s going to stop us? Blam, and you’re dead, all your stupid followers are dead.”
“We? Us?” She picked up her pace to a casual speed walk. “What’s this we?” she called over her shoulder. “Last I checked, Abby, you don’t have a gun. So you mean what if I tell these nice SWAT people to shoot you in the back? Don’t you?”
Talking to Evil Abby was surprisingly — or perhaps not at all surprisingly — like talking to herself in the mirror. The voice might’ve not been in her head, but it was still nasty and negative.
“Coward! Turn and face me!” Continue reading