’ The being known as Jacob Whiting rasped, throwing its head back and laughing hysterically. In that instant, Thorne knew that the news director was...in the throes of bloodlust. ‘I ate the rest of the roast, by the way. The extra bloody one. Pieter cooks as good as he fucks.’ ‘He thinks you’re dead, Jacob. He was crying.’ ‘Crying? That old queen?’ He laughed again, licking his lips and enjoying the taste of the clumpy blood. ‘What the fuck would he be crying about? We only met yesterday.’. I had no complaints with my life; there were more good years than bad. And I honestly wasn't sure whether that white tunnel was taking me to heaven or hell.I was surprised when I woke up surrounded by large-headed slender gray beings. A voice in my head assured me that I wasn't going on to the afterlife just yet. I protested my resurrection; the cancerous mass in my chest was well beyond treatment, and I'd spent the last three months in gradually increasing agony. Death, when it came for me,. More

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