Author:
M.J. Swenson has been writing stories since elementary school and earned a B.A. in Creative Writing from the University of St. Thomas, Minnesota. Besides writing and reading, M.J. also enjoys playing music and video games.

I woke up feeling that something had changed.

I blinked twice, waiting for my eyes to adjust, and glanced at the clock beside my bed. It read 6:38, as it did every morning. I slid out of bed and moved to my dresser, where I opened the third drawer and pulled out a dark blue V-necked shirt with short sleeves and a dark blue pair of pants. I changed in front of the mirror and examined myself. I looked just as I had the last time I’d looked in the mirror: long, straight, dark brown hair; blue eyes; an absurdly straight and narrow nose; the slight scar at the edge of my eyebrow. The scar whose origin I still couldn’t remember.

Familiar Assassins

"Mind if I ask what happened to this one?" Cedric asked. "Not shot or something, I hope?"


"No. We're not sure." Thane spoke for me while I pleaded with Kalle's lifeless form. "Miranda says she collapsed not too long ago, with no apparent cause. Potentially the memory irregularity, but we've got no proof."


"That again?" Cedric snorted. "Pisses me off, the way we're still forgetting people. How the hell're we going to recruit anyone if we can't remember who they are?"


"Have you investigated Nero Randall's offices yet?" Thane asked. "Found anything about the way they manage the collective memory?"


Cedric sighed and shook his head. "I've investigated, but unfortunately, I've found nothing. His offices are rigged. Goddamn labyrinths, they are."


Chapter 30