Bluh-huh-huh" Minho groaned, a shudder of repulsion, like he'd just stepped in a pile of klunk.

Movement from Brenda grabbed Thomas's attention. He looked to see her drop the knife away from Minho and step back, absently wiping the small trace of blood there on her pants. "I really would've killed you, ya know," she said in a slightly scratchy voice. Almost husky. "Charge Jorge again and I'll sever an artery." Minho wiped at his small wound with his thumb, then looked at the bright red smear. "That's one sharp knife. Makes me like you more.

I'm inspired by almost everything I come across in life, and one way or another they find themselves sneaking into my stories.

Ah, my Knight in Shining Armor. What, you don't think I can fend for myself?

i felt her absence. it was like waking up one day with no teeth in your mouth. you wouldn't need to run to the mirror to know they were gone

Thomas had a depressing - and scary - thought. 'Am I . . . replacing someone? Did somebody get killed?' Minho shook his head. 'No, we're just training you - someone'll want a break. Don't worry, it's been a while since a Runner was killed.' For some reason that last statement worried Thomas, though he hoped it didn't show on his face.

All things happen for a purpose.