Mister Johnson’s Cats

“Hello, Sir.”

Jacobs stepped back as Hendrick walked up to the glass coffin. The older soldier placed his own calloused palm against the glass and closed his eyes.


“Been busy in the labs?” Jacobs has told you what we have to do with your pet? Hendrick frowned, concentrating on the dual conversation.

There never was an alternative. In order to keep him safe, I will need him close, until I have to send him far away. The General sounded weary.

“Ah well, lab rats will always be curious.” Hendrick smirked. But Sir, we’ve always come back.

More’s the pity.


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About azhwi

An editing student, graduated Feb 2012. An avid fan of video games, fanfiction, anime, writing, and the serial comma.
This entry was posted in Man-Made Wings, Post-Trauma, Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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