Pareto brings it on himself, see. He comes home from work early with a grin on his mug and romance on his mind. He doesn’t question why his beloved Delilah isn’t downstairs ready to receive her sweet amore.

"You have done well," she laughs, her tone mocking. "None before have reached my inner sanctum." Torgo, muscular limbs gleaming with sweat and blood, grips his axe in shaking fists.

Roy pushed the welding mask off his face. Despite the winter chill, rivulets of sweat streamed down his bald head. Wiping a filthy, gloved hand across his face, he stepped away from the bunker door. He

Quick fingers adjusting the nozzle on his hose, Roy took a backward leap. The weapons on his back stole his balance, making his heel barely clip a concrete stair. His weight dropped, leg flinging out before

A single bulb flickered in the tunnel's ceiling. Its twitching, dirty light painted the walls yellow. Cold air wafted in from outside, lessening the bleached-out stink of altered genetics. Crossbow thrust

Brakes shrieked. The van rolled to a halt. Beside Roy, Dave lurched forward, smacking his face into the dash with a loud thump. He moaned from the impact. In his peripheral vision, Roy watched the tuft

"He's waking up!" The voice stammered somewhere at the uinverse's edge. Roy's mind locked onto the sound, used it as a rope to drag himself back to consciousness. Other noises filtered through,

Not a short man by any definition, Roy guessed the mutant had a clear four feet on him. Corded muscles strained the creature's tanned skin, twisting like ropes in forearms almost as wide around as the

Roy's boots skidded on frost and gravel. Loose pebbles skittered down the verge and left craters in the snow bank. Pulling the crossbow into his chest, he leapt the twisted steel carcass of a crashed