Six dark figures jump out of an ordinary propeller prop plane at night. Their target was just below them. They glide down out of the sky, using the darkness and lack of a moon as cover.

A lone figure laying down on top of the roof of the log mansion spots the figures. She watches as they glide down through the night sky.

“Little Sister to Grease Man. Our visitors have arrived. They are approaching from behind the mansion.” Rachel watches the figures through her specialize scope on her sniper rifle.

“Watch out guys.” Tammy fires three rapid shots from her rifle.

Three guys fall from three different trees they had been concealed in. Tammy spotted them with her thermal scope. She looks where they dropped and noticed they had rifles as well.

“Guys, they have upped the game. They are using rifles now.”

“Thanks for the update, Tammy.” Paul knocks another of their attackers out.

“How are those jammers coming, guys?” Kat does a spin kick at another attacker.

I was born on March 17, 1979, in upstate New York, to Irish Roman Catholic parents. My dad is Irish and my mom's heritage is Irish along with many other nationalities ranging from the Americas to Asia. She has often said that she is "Heinz 57", and she's not far off.

Dinner time at the Hazel’s was unlike dinner time in my family. Sure, mom cooked once in a while, but she always got lazy and would slouch onto her bed for hours. Florence cooked for a bit until she went off to college. It was up to me; Florence taught me the basics, but sometimes I didn’t have the time to cook meals, or dad would scream about me cooking cuz it’s a ‘girls’ job’. Often leaving us to buy take-out. Looking at it now, I think my mother is more depressed than an enabler. This is odd because when Naples started showing mental illness signs, she readily took him to a therapist.

Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

Carla’s and Angela’s townhouse, New York:
Angela smiles as she watches Carla hangs from the ceiling. The ponytail hung down between Carla’s legs and the fishing weights she attached to Carla’s nipples were stretching Carla’s breasts. The ball gag in Carla’s mouth was secured behind her head.

“You shouldn’t have agreed to let me do to you, anything I wanted sweetie.” Angela places a kiss on the side of Carla’s cheek.

In this chapter, our hero runs into some trouble while trying to help his friends, does some gender revelation, loses his temper, then finds himself in *very* deep trouble.
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