John, the boy who made the wench vomit onto his sweater, who wrote NOW IS THE TIME TO STRIKE BACK on the sidewalk where the Queen fell, who accidentally gave rise to the war-mongering Orks and mind-controlling Wenches, grabbed ahold of the woman’s arm. Angered, Kathy tore away and ran screaming for her sister.1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEUqOcOLOzj
“SARA!”1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ76sjpeA78q
Sara could only stare at the flaming arrow jut out of their father’s chest before Kathy grabbed her. Not knowing where to run in the city being razed to the ground, they saw John descend into a hole. Sewers were their only refuge. No beserk-wild Ork and no psychic wench would dare think to go beneath.
The commotion of war cries and blood-curdling screams seemed a distant nightmare. They heard rats now among echoing drips. Kathy and Sara followed John down a long bricked tunnel, steamy with trash and blood.1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjvD5Se52Ed
1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWcQsFcsTKI
“Stop,” Sara begged.1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGcJrDTN7fn
John obeyed, but Kathy insisted they keep going.
They entered a lantern-lit library where street urchins huddled together, waiting for them. What is this? Kathy wondered, trying to avert from their soulless gazes. Her eyes watered and widened once they settled on their ornate royal brooches. They must be the Queen’s children...1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzKWsJyOguC
1063Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡihnWMQeFIJ
and then Add to home screen.