You Always Have a Choice

"Charlie," a voice whispered, carried along on fetid air that now smelled of the grave.

Ice shot through his veins; the crotch of his pants became warm and wet. The thing in the shadows lurched toward him. Charlie shut his eyes tight before he had to see its face.

A slender, bone-white finger reached out from the shadows and touched its cold tip to his forehead.

"Sleep," it hissed.

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A Texas Ranger transporting his prisoner to Huntsville finds himself thrust into a supernatural mora...