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He quietly slips in, to find Sunil, in tattered jeans and a dirty gray t-shirt, staring out the window at the magnificent Manhattan skyline.
He quietly slips in, to find Sunil, in tattered jeans and a dirty gray t-shirt, staring out the window at the magnificent Manhattan skyline.
At the far corner, an older woman, Myra, notices his entrance. She pardons herself from a conversation, and beelines towards him. Before she can intercept him, Kimi, a young intern, pops up from a cubicle, throwing out her hand to the passing Marc.
Another, equally attractive, assistant passes by, pausing briefly to offer her morning greeting as well.
Strutting off the elevator in his expensive three-piece suit, Marc Varvaro is immediately welcomed with a smile by the Varvaro Law Firm’s stunning tight-skirted receptionist.
The Charred Hun leans forward slightly, creating fire inside his hand in order to gain a better view of the mysterious figure now floating in the center of the room.
Finally free of her presence, oxygen floods back into the man’s lungs, but the damage is done. He only gets one brief look with his blood stained eyes at the non corporal woman next to him. Then his weakened arms collapse and he plops, face first, into the pool of his own fluids. After a
The vomiting stops, giving him just a second of relief before dark fumes start to trickle out his nose and mouth. It quickly turns into a steady stream of gas that blocks any air from entering his body. The noxious smoke swirls around and takes shape. Fully formed, Sulfur hovers inches off the soaked carpet.
Now on all fours, he lets out a shrill scream that only stops when he begins to dry heave. After a few empty retches, blood and bile explode from his mouth like a fire hose. The vile liquids puddle onto the floor around his hands and knees.
Suddenly, the man’s body jerks forward. He falls violently and loudly to his knees. Using both hands, he grips his own throat as if squeezing something out. When his body lurches again, he throws his hands onto the floor to catch himself.
Once in the room, he painfully lifts up an arm to point a finger to the dark outline of a person slumped down and moaning in a corner.