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Shadowdarke--- Hunters: Quarry Hunted
by J. Darksong
"Concentrate! You are letting your attention wander!"
His harsh voice jarred my attention, and I bent my mind back to the task at
hand. My Master--- it was still strange to think of him that way, even in the 'venerable
old teacher' type of way, despite that he looked only two to three years older than
myself, anyway--- sat down across from me, legs crossed, palms up on his thighs. His
eyes were closed, like my own, and his forehead was creased in deep concentration. After
a moment or two, he sighed, and shook his head, breaking the position to come to his feet.
"That's enough for now," he said wearily. "Janice, you have to learn to concentrate
completely on whatever task you are performing whenever you use your Talent. It is very
easy to lose touch with reality if you let your attention waver. You make mistakes." He
ran fingers through his mousy brown hair, straightening it. "But when you make mistakes
with the River," he said ominously, "they will be deadly. One misstep will be your last.
Remember that."
I sighed deeply, shaking my own head to clear it, and likewise came to my feet.
For three days and nights now he had been teaching me more about my Gift, my heritage.
I had discovered that I was Kinspawn, a hybrid of a normal human and one of the mysterious
creatures known as Ancients. My mixed heritage was responsible for my so-called Gift, my
psychic talent to mentally 'Tag' a person I came into contact to, and later to zero in
on that person's aura, track that person literally from anywhere in the world and know
instantly where he or she was. I had always considered it somewhat of a useless, trivial
thing, a parlor trick. I mean, growing up in this modern age, with shows on the TV about
Unsolved Mysteries, UFO's, Bigfoot, Stonehenge, and the like, people as a whole are
skeptical about Psychic ability. Even with the Gift, I had scarcely believed it myself.
But all that changed when I met the Organization...
After completing my four years in the army and finding, to my dismay, that the job
market wasn't so kind to an ex M.P. without a high school diploma, I came into contact with
an association known only to a secret few as The Organization. A privately funded multi-
national group, it sought out people with real psychic ability, and recruited them for
special endeavors, some of which were not entirely legal, others of which were anything
BUT legal. Or moral, for that matter. Of course, faced with the choice of a life on the
street, or a chance to use my military training and my useless parlor trick of a Gift
and be paid big bucks, I joined. Soon after, I learned that the sword had another edge
to it: that the Organization prided itself on secrecy, success, and perfection. Failure
was not an option, and no one who screwed up an operation lived to fail again. Also,
employees of the Organization were employees for life; the only retirement 'package' came
in a wooden box and six feet of dirt. I wasn't exactly happy with my life, but it was
better than the alternative, and it had many perks. How else could a scuffy-looking,
underdeveloped, almost sexless thing of a woman get any respect without the money and
influence of the Organization? It wasn't much of a life, but it WAS life, and there
was nothing I could do about it.
That is, until I met Jonothan Darke.
A chance encounter on an airplane, forty-thousand feet in the air... I was part of
a team tracking a target of the Organization, a rich little nimrod named Oscar Bentworth.
We were supposed to abduct him, using whatever force was necessary, and bring him back to
headquarters, where he would be ransomed for a million dollars. While he was being held,
he would go through vigorous brainwashing, so that when returned, he would be loyal to
the Organization, and provide it with funds from his many many resources. My job was to
keep track of him, while the others did the actual kidnapping.
My seat mate had other ideas.
I had attempted to silence him, putting him to sleep with a technique my superiors
had taught me, using my Gift to force anyone I touched to sleep. It worked, or so I
thought. Making physical contact with Mr. Darke allowed him to probe ME instead, to
read my mind, tap into my brain, and read my intentions within the blink of an eye. He
clouded my mind, and enslaved me, reshaping both my mind AND my body to his desires.
He had sensed my Gift, my own useless little Talent, and decided that I could be useful
to him. When he left the plane, I went with him, leaving behind my former life for a new
exciting one. To cover our departure, he used him powers to make the other agents think
the Target had vanished, and we slipped out in the confusion. A brilliant plan, but one
that bothered me. It had almost been too easy...
"Woolgathering?" Jonathan�s face slipped into view. I smiled slightly.
"Why bother to ask? You know my thoughts almost before I do."
"Not entirely," he said, taking out his pipe, and lighting it up. "We ARE linked now,
of course, and I can enter your mind with but a thought. But, it is tedious, simply plowing
inside your head to know what you are thinking, sifting through all the random thoughts
to get at what I wish to know." He puffed a perfect smoke ring. "Besides, its rude to
simply barge in, uninvited."
I laughed. This man was so full of paradoxes, it boggled the mind. He had pretty
much violated me, remade me from the ground up, into his vision of a dream, and yet he
felt it rude to pick my brain for what he wanted to know. "How did I do this time?" I
asked.
"Not too bad. You just need to concentrate more. For such a strange and unique
Gift, your actual Talent is a lot stronger than I had first believed. Your bloodline must
be a long stronger than it appears." He lifted his glass, and almost without noticing it,
I was refilling his glass with champagne, the bottle having magically leaped into my
hands without my notice. I gasped a bit, as I looked down at what I was doing. His
usually neutral face held the hint of an amused grin.
It was very unsettling. I never knew when he was using some special ability to
move things with his mind, or simply clouding my mind, and my memory so I wouldn't see
HIM moving things... or whether it was ME doing the moving unconsciously without realizing
it. Despite my rudimentary training in the Organization, I was still very new to all of
this.
Rather than ask the question, I let it pass. Instead, I asked, "So, when are we
heading out of here? I mean, I like the digs. Its the first time I have actually stayed
in the penthouse of a hotel before, particularly the Adams Mark. But, you were awful
anxious to find this young lady friend of yours," I replied, stuffing aside the slight
envy and resentment at the idea of my Master seeking out another woman. Part of the
feeling came from my inability to help him find her, as he had hoped I would be able
to. Arriving in the suburbs, Darke brought me to a small grassy knoll where a couple
of moss covered graves sat. This was the place he had been seeking, the last confirmed
spot where the woman he sought had been. When I asked why she would visit a grave
more than a hundred years old, he merely smiled wistfully.
"Its where things all started, you know," he had said softly. "Both for her, and
for me. A long time ago we stood at this very spot and talked about the future, about
our hopes and dreams and desires. It was a long time ago, and we have both changed
much since then, but this is the place where it started. Somehow, I knew she would
visit this place before she left. I had hoped to beat her here, perhaps catch up with
her, but... anyway, its in the past. We have the present to contend with, and the future
to think about."
I had then used my Gift to see if I could track her, to see if I could pinpoint
her location from the aura of her presence around the area. I had a perfect image of
her, a complete memory of her body's dimensions, from my link with Darke's mind, but
it wasn't enough. I had never met her in person, I had never Tagged her, and my Gift
couldn't find her. I think I was more devastated by my inability to help him, that he
was.
Darke sat there for a moment or two, smoking his pipe. The smell of tobacco smoke,
which always used to annoy me, drifted over to me. It smell oddly of crushed fruit leaves
or something, with an earthy, wild tang to it. "I suppose we had best be leaving tomorrow
morning," he said at last. "You're right, its useless to stay here since we know she
has already gone. Checking in with the Colonel hasn't turned up anything positive, either,
but at least he and his team was able to give me a general direction." He sighed. "It's
been a while since I have been to merry olde England. It should be an interesting trip.
At least I know for sure that the reception won't be so hostile now that Frederick is
absent." I frowned, not knowing what one person missing had to do with our reception
abroad, but again, I let it pass. "In the meantime," he said, slipping his arm around
me, "I think we should take advantage of these opulent surroundings, and expend a
little stored energy."
I smiled wickedly, feeling my pussy quiver in delight. This was something else I
had to get used to. Before his Touch had healed my body, reshaping me into the picture
of a wet dream, I had had very little experience with sex. Now, I couldn't get enough
of it. Being in his presence made me continuously wet and aroused. Even more, his training
and teaching me in respect to my Gifts had opened a direct route between my pussy and
the rest of my body. Accessing what he called the Great River tapped into his sexuality,
and using his Gift requires him to burn off the excess through vigorous mind-blowing sex.
Of course, I couldn't access it yet, didn't know if I even COULD, I was only now learning
how to sense it, but nevertheless, I found using my Talents supercharged my libido like
nothing I could imagine. I crawled over the bed, next to him, glad once again that we
practiced with my Gift totally naked. As my body grazed his, I felt a small spark, like
static electricity, leaping from his skin to mine. His body was like a battery, one
overcharged, past capacity, and ready to be used. As his thick shaft slid into my warm
wet folds, I bit my lip to suppress the guttural moan of pleasure welling up inside me.
Yes! I thought giddily to myself. He was the battery, his hard cock was his energy,
and I was going to drain it dry!
I felt his hands caressing my naked body, crawling lazily along my skin, tracing
random circles up and down heated flesh. My blossoming psychic powers weren't needed to
tell me he was using his own, using his Touch to excite me beyond mere human sensation.
My back arched, driving him in deeper, and as he thrust back into me, my lips found
lips, completing the circuit. I felt hot, warmer than any 120 degree day in history.
Molten heat rippled off his body, turning my sweat to steam, baking me inside and out,
as I continued to thrash and writhe against him, still miraculously impaled upon his
mighty rod.
At the same time, my mind was opening up to him, like a blooming flower, folding
itself open to receive the gentle rain of pleasure seeping down. Words and images
began to filter into me, molding me, shaping me, turning me into whatever he wished
me to be. Once I had been frightened, concerned. Now, I no longer cared. I was too far
gone in the pleasure of existing to serve him to be worried. I knew I was babbling
like an idiot now, overcome with indescribable pleasures, but I retained enough frame
of mind to at least THINK the words. Please, let it begin now! Please! Can't stand it
much longer... need to cum... need release sooo badly! PLEASE!!
*Then CUM for me, my dear.*
I heard his answer in my head, a match to the powderkeg of my passion. It began
immediately, a small orgasm, followed moments later by another small one, building
slowly up to an even bigger one, and a deeper, larger one after that. Around the fifth,
I felt my mind shatter, unable to deal with the sensations anymore. Then, for a time, I
no longer existed, just the physical shell, a life-sized automation, responding on
instinct to the ongoing sexual frenzy. My body continued to writhe and buck wildly
in pleasure, providing Darke with pleasure as well. Finally, at the eighteenth climax,
my Master came, groaning loudly, and firing his load deep within me. Released from the
never-ending cycle of climaxing, I promptly lost consciousness.
Jackal watched through binoculars from a suite across from the penthouse. He licked
his lips as he watched the proceedings, a little envious. He had monitored the two for
the past three days, scanning their thoughts from afar with his own Talents. Or rather,
tried to. Bloodhound had always been an open book to him before, and he could usually
tell what she was thinking before she could, but recently, thanks to the tutelage of
her new Master, her mind had become much more formidable. He could now only read her with
great difficulty, and only at times when her mind was unguarded, like when she was asleep,
or like now, when in the throes of strenuous sexual activity.
The man, on the other hand, was a stone wall. Jackal couldn't read him at all, at
any time, not even asleep.
Still, through time and patience, he had managed to piece together a picture of
what was going on. The man had recruited Bloodhound to help him find a woman, some
lady named, 'Jeanette'. He was powerful, stronger than any other psychic the Organization
had on payroll, and apparently he had no small means of supporting his search, yet he
was unable to find this one woman. Bloodhound had been recruited to help in his search.
He had others looking for this mysterious 'Jeanette' as well. Someone he contacted by
phone. Someone he referred to as the 'Colonel'. In Jackal's way of thinking, all this
spelled only one thing: the Organization had competition.
Somewhere out there, another company, or corporation, or group, was using psychically
gifted people for their own financial benefit. Perhaps they were a legitimate business,
or perhaps they were like the Organization. It didn't matter. Once the Owner heard his
report, She would order him to capture Bloodhound and the man, and bring them in for
questioning. Or, barring that, he would be ordered to simply eliminate them both. Jackal
smiled to himself at the thought, polishing his bowie knife. He really hoped he would
get the second option. Killing Hyena and Panther had been little sport.
He hoped that this Mr. Darke would be more of a challenge.
"Are you okay?"
My eyes fluttered open, and I gasped, glancing around the room, trying to remember
where I was. Curtains. Walls. Face. Bed. Man. Champagne. Shaking my woolen head a bit as
it all came back to me, I glanced up into the anxious eyes of my Master. "Yeah," I
croaked with a hoarse voice. "I'm okay." He handed me a glass of water and I sipped it
slowly. Feeling returned as the water slid down my parched throat, and I glanced down
at my body to make sure it was all there. Yep, ten toes, two bare feet, two long, slender
and shapely legs, one very sore, but OH, VERY FULFILLED, pussy, two breasts. Everything
was just as it should be.
Jonothan chuckled at my sigh of relief. "I forget sometimes how fragile you are."
I shot him a dirty look, which he completely ignored. "Still, I am glad you are awake.
Your body is a little worse for wear, but you'll recover in a few hours. Your mind,
however, shut down under the onslaught. I had to perform a MindHealing to wake you up."
"A MindHealing?" I perked up, suddenly nervous. "Am I going to be okay?"
"Yes, yes, you are fine," he said candidly. "In laymen's terms, you just suffered
from sensory burnout. I fed you too much pleasure too fast and too hard. What worried me
was that I discovered some tinkering inside your brain, other than my own. Someone
has been inside your mind, altering your mind in subtle, but definite ways. Memory blocks
as well, repressing events in your past. I fixed the damage, and you should now be able to
recall what was done to you. Think back, Janice. Do you remember someone putting you in
a trance before me?"
"No, of course not," I said, frowning. "No one has messed with my mi--" My breath
caught in my throat as an image came to me, so vivid, and so unexpectedly, it seems as if
for a second I was there, in the image, instead of in the hotel penthouse. Me, the
way I used to be, lying flat on a metal platform, strapped down, while several men in
white coats poked and prodded me, a shadowy figure in the background, watching the
proceedings with mixed interest. Then, I was back in the hotel, sitting on the bed, my
knees pulled up to my chin, shuddering. "Oh, my God," I whispered softly. "It was the
Organization. They brainwashed me into allegiance. Back during that week of so-called
recruitment. Why... why am I just now realizing this? I mean, I watched them do it to
other new recruits, and to the people we kidnapped for ransom. Why did it never click
until now that they once did the same to me?"
"Simple. They didn't want you to realize it. They placed a block in your mind to
keep you from associating the brainwashing process with yourself. Most likely, everyone
that works in the Organization has gone through a similiar 'recruitment', except perhaps
for that shadowy figure in the background of your mind, the one directing the show."
Jonathan frowns, sitting down next to me. "I wish I knew who it was. The more I learn
about your former job, the more it bothers me. I suspect one of my brethren is behind it
all, somehow, somewhere."
All of this resonated with a growing feeling of dread within me. For the past few
days, ever since walking away and following Darke, I had felt the strange sensation of
doom stalking us, coming up slowly behind us. Watching. Listening. Probing at us from the
shadows. Without knowing why, I closed my eyes and concentrated, Tagging my Master. I
glanced up at him, but he was still lost in thought, not having noticed. Closing my eyes
again, I sent out my awareness, in the new, more efficient way he had been teaching me.
There he was, in my mind's eye, a glowing dark flame sitting on the bed. I smiled to
myself. Now, no matter what the future held, I would be able to find him again. Then,
I frowned, as another familiar aura drew within range. A person I had tagged before
was close by, very close, and coming closer. Turning, I focused on the signature, trying
to discern who it was. Suddenly, to my horror, I recognized him.
"Master!" I shouted, breaking him out of his introspection. "We're about to have
company. The dangerous, unwanted kind!" At that exact moment, the door flew open, and
Jackal walked in. I reached for the dresser, and my handgun inside, but the pump action
of his rifle stopped me cold.
"Uh uh uh, Bloodhound," he said in a low thick voice. "You know better than that.
Up with the hands, girl. And raise them nice and slow." He gazed hungrily at me, licking
his lips. "Not that you have anywhere to hide a weapon on your birthday suit," he added.
"As for you, Mr. X, Mr. Unknown, no sudden moves. If I don't get you with the first shot,
I'll certainly get your new girlfriend here, and you'll take the second round." I watched
angrily as Darke complied, raising his arms slowly over his head.
"Okay, you found me, Jackal," I said, hoping to turn his attention back to me. "You
can call off the macho bullshit. I'll go back with you if you let him go free. He's
nothing, nobody, just some guy I met on the street---"
The sight of Jackal drawing a bead on my head silenced any further lies. "Bloodhound,
if you want me to blow your FUCKING head clean off, keep talking! I know full well
what is going on here. I'm the psychic here, girl. You are just the tracker, the useless
BITCH we use to track down those that try and run. I may not be the sharpest knife in the
rack, but I can damn well see with my own eyes that this guy is NOT just some nobody
from off the street!" I gazed down at my body, and groaned inwardly. There was no way
to explain the remarkable change in my appearance, nor anything to hide it.
"Okay then." Both of us turned towards Jonothan as he spoke. "What is it that you
want then? Obviously, you've been tracking us since the airport. We've been all over
New York City the past three days, and you could have picked us off easily by now if
you wanted to. So, you must have received orders from your superiors to bring us in,
or to kill us if that becomes an impossibility." He sat down on the bed, picking up
his pipe from the nightstand, and lighting it, began puffing out smoke. "I am sorry
that your superiors went with option one first. Too bad. I could have used the CHALLENGE
as much as you, Mr. Becker."
Jackal's mouth opened wide, and I thought for a moment he was going to drop his
gun. "What the FUCK? How the HELL did you know all that? I have had my mind shielded
ever since I entered the hotel! There's no way you could have read my mind!"
Jonothan laughed softly. There was a dark gleam in his eyes now, a predatory shine
I had not yet seen in him before. It frightened me even as it excited me. "I hate to
disillusion you, Mr. Becker--- can I call you Peter? ---but if you were broadcasting
your thoughts any harder, even normal unGifted people could hear them. You say your mind
is shielded?" He tapped his forehead once, and I had to clench my fists in agony at the
bombardment of words, images, sounds, and sensations. Just as quickly, it faded. Looking
at Jackal, I saw he had reacted similarly. Jonothan tapped his forehead again. "Now, THAT
is a shield," he said softly.
"Fine, hotshot," Jackal said angrily, leveling the gun at my Master's stomach.
"So I need practice. Its not your concern anymore. You and the bitch are coming with me,
now, or I start blasting. The easy way or the hard way. And you already KNOW which way
I am rooting for."
Jonothan lowered the pipe to the dresser and smiled. In that split second before
he spoke again, I knew what his decision would be, and it scared me shitless. "Very well.
In that case, I'll take the HARD way."
"Suit yourself, fucker!" Jackal snarled, firing away. I watched, frozen in horror,
as he unloaded two shell into Darke. Or... rather into the space he has stood moments ago!
"What the FUCK? Where did you go, you son of a bitch?" Backing towards the door, unable
to find Darke, he turned towards me. "At least I'll take you down before I go!"
I screamed as he fired the gun. I thought my life would flash before my eyes,
but instead all I saw was darkness, an inky blackness that seemed to swallow up the
entire world. I was falling, falling, insubstantial, a mote in the eye of a whirlpool.
Was this what it was like to be dead?
*No, silly, you are not dead,* a deep voice spoke into my mind. Suddenly, light
returned with a suddenness, and I fell to the ground, rubbing my eyes. I was in the hallway.
Somehow or another, I was alive, still, and outside the room. I turned to run, and nearly
stumbled into Jonothan Darke. "Master!" I exclaimed, shuddering, clenching him tightly.
"WHAT in the HELL just happened? I mean, he was about to shoot... he fired... and darkness,
and... suddenly here I am. In the fucking hallway!"
"I know," he said softly. I let go of him and looked into his eyes. That same
black glow seemed to shine from within. "I carried you out of there," he continued.
"Things were about to get ugly, so I thought it best if I brought you someplace safer.
Now, wait here, while I go and get our things." He turned and walked back into the
suite. I stood at the door, listening, and I could hear what sounded like a man sobbing
hysterically. Moments later, Jonothan walked out with our bags, and a fresh change of
clothes for me to put on. "Here. We don't want all the men and women gawking at you on
our way to the airport, now do we?"
I nodded slowly. "Um, what... might I ask... did you do to Jackal... um, Peter.?"
I could still hear him sobbing inside the hotel room. Jonothan seemed to consider for a
moment before answering.
"Mother Fuckers!!" Jackal raged, randomly, hoping to hit them wherever they
were hiding. His Talent told him that the girl at least was still nearby, her mind
clouded in fear. That Darke character had undoubtedly his them from Jackal's view
but his Mind could still detect Bloodhound's thoughts. He fired again, and again, lost
in a desperate rage. He HAD to kill them. No one escaped from the Jackal. Worse yet,
no one failed the Organization and lived. Either his two targets would die today, or
he would.
Suddenly, he felt it. HIM. Jackal turned around, to find Darke standing calmly
behind him, arms crossed at his chest. Taking a step back in surprise, Jackal raised
the shotgun again and fired... only to have it click harmlessly in his hands.
"Out of shells," Darke said needlessly, reaching out a hand to take the gun
away. Twisting away, Jackal took out a large bowie knife from his belt.
"C'mon!" he snarled, trying to hide how shaken he truly was inside. "I'll do
this the old fashioned way. Make your bloody move!"
Darke snarled in return, his eyes blazing with a throbbing dark light. "If that's
the way you want to play this, then fine. It's a rare thing to be forced to have to
interfere personally in things. I'd tried gentle persuasion, I've tried to distract
you, but you seem bound and determined to fight. Alright then. We'll fight. But we'll
fight MY kind of battle. A battle of wills, of minds. And just so you know, its
a battle you cannot win!"
Jackal reared back to strike, the sharp blade glittering in the light, but Darke
reacted quicker. Reaching out with his mind, he seized Jackal's mind in a talonlike grip.
A gasp of surprise escaped his lips, as he stood frozen, unable to move. His powerful
mind rebelled at the attack, struggling to slip the grip of Darke's hold, but the
doctor had learned well his mistake with D'Amber's little pets, and he was so concerned
with being gentle with THIS one. He clenched tighter with his mental stranglehold,
causing Jackal to gurgle helplessly. To him, it was as if his mind was being ripped
apart, gouged and split into slices by several large knives. Without remorse, Darke
continued the assault, stripping away layer after layer of his mind, reading his thoughts,
callously observing the man's entire life while reducing him into a drooling mess.
"P..p...pl...please," Jackal managed to gasp, shuddering in agony. Darke paused
then, miliseconds from ravaging the man's very core. With an effort, he pushed back
his own Darkness, and withdrew his probes. Jackal fell, falling limply to the floor, like
a puppet with its strings cut. Darke, breathing deeply, barely able to contain the
Darkness welling up within him, realizing what he had been about to do, placed a hand
to the man's forehead.
"Let this be a lesson to you," he said softly. "Never FUCK with someone out of
your league. I know of your past, of the lives you have taken, and the pleasure you
got from each one. You deserve what I was about to do to you. You deserved it for daring
to attack me and mine. But... I do not kill. To finish you would make me no better than
you are. I may be a lot of things, but I am not a murderer." He began healing the damage
done to the man's psyche, carefully reweaving the complicated tapestry of his mind. He
stopped, however, before completing the job. "I will leave you unfinished, condemned to
relive the experiences of your past, the brutal murders you have committed, over and
over again. But this time, you will not feel the pride and satisfaction you once did.
Now, you will feel sorrow, and pain. You will know the agony of your victims, each one,
over and over, until you have earned your penance. Only then will your pain end."
Without a further word, Darke walked outside.
Master sighed deeply, shaking his head. "Mr. Becker had a lot of hostility in him.
He was basically an overgrown bully, one who could pick out a person's fears and
insecurities out of their head and use it against them. I simply returned the favor.
I picked out one of his biggest fears and placed it in the forefront of his mind, his
fears of being a victim of the very brutality he forced upon others. He's crying now
because he's reliving all the terrible atrocities he's committed in his life, over
and over in his mind everytime he thinks about coming after us, or hurting or killing
anyone." he sighed deeply. "Its an endless loop. He'll stay there, sobbing like a
child, until he can push aside his evil thoughts enough to focus on something else."
I nodded softly then, stunned. He made it sound so clinical, so logical. He had
mindfucked Jackal into oblivion, and responded about it as if I had asked him how the
weather was back home! Right at that moment, I caught a glimpse of just what people
like my Master were capable of. A man armed with a shotgun, standing only a few feet
away, and yet he laughs, telling him to bring it on. And when he does, my Master simply
drops the hammer on his would-be kidnapper, turning him into a mindless drooling idiot.
Who could stop such persons as these? And what would happen to normal people like
myself in a world where such as he ruled? It was a sobering thought.
"Janice!" he shouted from down the hall. I looked up, stunned. Ii had been lost in
thought again, "Janice, the police are coming. We need to get out of here and head to
the airport, right now. Are you coming?"
I was in deep. Too deep to turn back now. "Oh well," I said, picking up my bags,
and running down the hallway after him. "In for a penny, in for a pound."
(The End.)