Unlike the other site, I've decided to post the whole scene, since all of the pages can fit into one post. Sorry if it's long, but inspiration struck and I don't know when I'll post next.Thank you, Grayle and Arch. It means alot to me.

***

Janis was situated on her leather couch, her legs dangling over the edge as her laptop rested on her abdomen. She sipped a cup of hot coffee, curled up beneath a warm blanket. The lights within her large condo were dimmed, replaced with the incandescent glow of multi-coloured Christmas lights. Though a tree wouldn’t fit in her over-cluttered living room, she lavishly decorated it with mistletoe, stuffed Santa’s and golden ribbons. Though she cared little for the over-materialized holiday, she felt compelled to participate in some manner.

The sky was dark, nearly black, she noted, with no indication of moonlight or stars. The only visible object outside was her porch and yard, which was illuminated by Christmas lights.

Her eyes darted across the page as she scrolled through an article explaining the Codoxin drug. Though she had already published her article, she was compelled to know more about the drug and its potential effects. She had even skipped out on a Christmas party to focus on gathering further information. ‘I don’t care much for parties, anyways,’ she mused internally, ‘they’re too...noisy. Plus, I won’t have to worry about the chocolate temptation.’

After her interview with Crowell, she felt compelled to unveil the dark secrets that dwell beneath the Codoxin drug. And the threat, heh, she was the most powerful reporter in the city. She practically owned the company.

From initial assessment, it appeared to be a flawless report, but as she pondered, she was certain that something was missing.

She took another sip of her coffee, her brows furrowed in deep contemplation. The main ingredient, as reported, was Creatine Phosphate.
Creatine Phosphate provided energy for the muscles by replenishing ADP into ATP. It would not account for stimulating the muscles to grow, nor for the muscles to be one hundred percent efficient, as Crowell had told her.

She scrolled through the page, fatigue beginning to tug at the corners of her mind. She hadn’t had proper sleep in days – not since the interview. She convinced herself to get some sleep once she finished her initial assessment. In the morning, she’d resume her research.

As her nimble fingers continued to clack away on the keyboard, she was unaware of the looming danger behind her. Three men skulked along the walls like creeping death. They were only feet from her, their feet failing to make a sound and muffled by the thick carpeting.

Janis continued, oblivious to the danger until something sounded directly behind her. Perhaps it was the overload of caffeine that alerted her. Whatever the reason, she readjusted her laptop and glanced the unmistakable mirror image of a SWAT-clad man approaching. His image danced on the screen as he wielded a weapon in his hand, nearly stooping over her.

Her heart leapt in her throat and she gripped her laptop in trembling hands. A scream threatened to part from her lips, but she bit it back and waited for the opportune moment to strike. She could hear the man’s uneven breaths issuing from behind her, causing the hairs along her neck to hackle.
She inhaled sharply, her muscles gorged with adrenaline as she made her move.

As the man attempted to immobilize her, she leapt forwards, clutching her laptop and swinging around to face her attacker. With all of the strength she could summon, she thrust her laptop toward the man’s face and was rewarded by a loud slap of machinery against bone.
A throaty yowl ripped through the air as the soldier clutched his eye and doubled over.

But Janis was horrified at what she saw. There were two more of them! Disillusion flooded her face as two soldiers sprang forward, armed with lethal looking batons.
Her heart flittered as she allowed a shrill scream to escape her quivering lips, but continued her seemingly impossible endeavour to escape.

The nearest soldier lunged over the couch, his hard, black eyes visible through his face mask.

Janis hastily searched for any means of escape, seeing the window as her only hope. With a surge of strength, she hurled into it, feeling the glass give way with a deafening shatter. As she did so, she could feel the jagged shards bite into her shoulder. Blood seeped from the wound, but she ignored the pain the seared up her shoulder and attempted to climb through the window to safety.
Though the hole was small, she used her two elbows as leverage to heave herself through the window and to the frigid outside.

She cursed audibly as she attempted to force her lithe body through the gap. She was nearly out. She could hear the two other soldiers shrieking behind her.
But before Janis could make her escape, the nearest soldier seized a handful of her hair and pulled her inward.

She screamed and fought against the man’s grip, hoping it would relinquish, but it never did. She could scarcely feel the pain that pulsed through her skull, as the adrenaline thankfully obscured any pain. The man was pulling her in. She could feel her hands losing purchase on the slippery glass. She had to do something.

Grasping on as tightly as she could, she thrust her right foot back behind her, feeling her heel bury into the man’s chest. A whoosh of air escaped his lungs as he staggered back, his grip faltering.

No longer restrained, Janis lunged through the hole before the other man could catch her, and her tender skin abrading against the sharp glass.
She landed six feet below in a heap of snow, grateful that it eased her descent, but she cursed as it slowed her pace. Her body stiffened from the immediate rush of cold and she gasped.
Her breaths issued at radical intervals and her heart drummed sporadically in her chest. She got to her feet, feeling the cold numbing them quickly, and bolted forward. She was unsure of where she was headed, but she wanted anywhere away from danger. She didn’t care where.

Thoughts flitted through her mind faster than she could comprehend. Crowell had sent someone to kill her! He must have something to hide.

She ran blindly in the darkness towards the expansive lake that stretched out in front of her. As she did so, she screamed. Her throat ached from it, but she hoped – prayed – that someone was listening. There was no one for hundreds of yards. Her legs were heavy with exhaustion, but she loped through the snow, her meagre cloths drenched.

Safety seemed imminent as she glanced behind her. She spotted no one behind her. Her house was now a small glimmer of light on the horizon and there was no indication of anyone pursuing her.
Relief, however, was short-lived as her head swivelled back in front of her.
She stopped, her breath catching in her throat and her eyes growing wide.

A beast, unlike any other hovered in front of her. Though she could scarcely make out its physical features, she saw an incandescent yellow eye. The other milky blue eye gazed hollowly at her. Like two pools of molten lava, they probed her. The beast was, by far larger than her, and the contour of its rippling muscles made her quiver in fear. The beast’s massive chest heaved and it snorted audibly, plumes of fog rolling from its flared nostrils.

Unable to utter a word, she recoiled slightly from the muscled creature. Its broad muzzle lifted, peeling back its black lips and revealing a row of glimmering ivory fangs.
This was her fate, she knew, to die between the fangs of this monstrosity. ‘I knew I should have gone to the party,’ she pondered, horror-stricken and grief swelling in her gut.

She did not move, as any escape attempt would be futile. Instead, she stood and waited for death to claim her.

Wow, I can't say anything better than what Grayle can say, but I will say that it was fantastic, I can't wait to read more!

Chapter 24
Alex looked to the darkening sky, despair flashing in his emerald eyes. His brows furrowed as he examined the approaching moon. His eyes averted to the sunset and dread filled the empty void in his gut. The sky was as scarlet as blood and the chill, colder than death, engulfed the city. He shivered and a chill rippled down his spine. As he exhaled, columns of fog issued from his lips. But it was not from the frigid temperatures. It was fear.

He stood in front of an expansive stretch of oblivion, gazing as the snow, too, was cast in a crimson shadow, foreboding of the blood that would be spilt. He was situated just outside of the city, where the frozen, vast lake glimmered in the residual daylight. A mile out, he saw the small, but distinct bulge on the horizon. It was Crowell’s laboratory – the heart of the Codoxin project and where Steven was held...he hoped.

He tilted his head, resting it against the brick structure of the many buildings bordering the city. It was accompanied by numerous others, which were positioned in a uniform queue.
He inhaled slowly, savouring the scents that dwelt beyond the city. Though the vast emptiness appeared devoid of any life, he could smell the sweet pungent odours of grass underfoot and the spruce trees surrounding the lake. But relief was short-lived as he was hurled back into reality.

He clenched his fists together, praying that the sun would never sink below the horizon, hoping that time would suspend. But a flitter of grief swelled in his chest as he saw the last indication of a sun in the sky and engulfed in darkness. When darkness fell, he would begin his trek.
In the meantime, he milled the plan through his mind and images of those he wished to save. His heart was heavy with worry. ‘What if I don’t save them? All of my efforts will have been futile,’ he pondered, uncertain.

But a renewed strength clung to his worrisome mind. He was a strong, stealthy beast of the night. He could move with unfathomable speed, dodge bullets, and strike with lethal power. He glanced at his human hands under the dying light, relishing in the thought of two inch talons protruding from his blunt fingernails and masses of rippling fur and muscle engross his body. And the sense of smell. Though in human form, he could smell odours that a human could never begin to comprehend. 

His eyes, now flashing golden, looked to the sky and he allowed a powerful howl to tear from his throat.

Once again, you provide your readers with delicious descriptions in each and every scene - from the streets to the restaurant to the view of the sunscapes, all of them are vivid and depicted brilliantly.
  Show us how it's done, Punx.

  I just thought of something story-wise that you could play with in Alex's mind as he's getting ready to infiltrate the Laboratory. Again, this is just an idea; it's not even a suggestion.
  Janis is a top reporter that writes a denouncing article on Codoxin, then is found dead - a victim of yet another animal attack which have been on the rise recently. Not only would the circumstances of her death be suspicious, but her being killed right after her article's release would be just the kind of thing that other newshounds couldn't avoid. They might begin to add their comments, which would only antagonize Crowell even more, forcing him to face the public.
  You see, through Crowell's presumption in having Janis killed, it could blossom into a much better diversion than Alex could ever have hoped for. 
  You could explore that a little between the restaurant scene and the sunset scene if you wanted, describing how the news media explodes with the allegations and speculations, pictures of Crowell avoiding the media, and his representatives repeatedly saying 'no comment,' news teams waiting outside his building in the city like sharks in a feeding frenzy...
  Again, just an idea.

  Nevertheless, We're definitely getting down to the nitty-gritty here, and there's no way on earth that anyone reading this story couldn't be on the edge of their seat, eagerly awaiting the final showdown.
  Extremely well done, Punx!

This is realllllly long. I apologize

Chapter 25
The sun had now completely disappeared, as with any remnants of light. A half moon clung to the sky, as golden and fierce as his bullion eyes. Thick clouds surrounding the moon choked out any indication of starlight. The vast canopy of white was engulfed in complete darkness. Alex was grateful for his night vision as he scoured the vicinity. Besides the tumbling of snow from the fierce wind, he saw no activity and smelled nothing.

As he inhaled, the frigid air seared his nostrils, but he embarked on his task to reach the laboratory. As he took a step forward, his foot plunged knee-deep into an accumulation of powdery snow. ‘Damn,’ he cursed mentally, trudging through the snowy terrain. He persisted forward at a comfortable pace. The desire for the shift throbbed within him, causing a ripple of heat to flood his body. He could feel the prickle of coarse fur prepared to jut through his pores – to protect his more fragile skin. But Alex refrained.

He had to wait for the precise moment before doing so. From afar, his massive body could be spotted, despite the darkness. For now, he continued his arduous endeavour to reach the building, his stomach roiling and his hands beginning to tremor. ‘No, no, no,’ his doubtful mind persisted with each footfall, but his need to save them propelled him onward.

He staggered numerous times, doubt increasing with every footstep. He cursed audibly, wiping his soiled hands on his undersized shirt. He was now beginning to feel the cold ebbing through his flesh. It was well below freezing; able to kill a man within minutes, but his toughened skin was adept to such temperatures – however, not for such lengths of time.
His teeth chattered, but hope prompted him as the massive building amplified. Though the height was comparatively short to the Grande building, it was wide, easily the size of a football field.

He was only minutes from the structure, his eyes sweeping across the vicinity for the soldiers. He could smell their odours amidst the wind as it flitted up his nostrils. And though the wind whistled in his ears, he could hear the slight clamour of human activity ahead.
Once he neared the building, he probed it, keeping his body low to the ground. His muscles were flexed in apprehension as he gazed at it. The building was surrounded by chain-link fence, which loomed twenty feet high. Even in his werewolf form, he could not leap such heights, unless he climbed.

Only a few soldiers were scattered throughout the area surrounding the building. They looked like ants from afar. A brief swell of joy flushed through him. There would be fewer soldiers to elude. The front of the building was protected by four guards. Two were situated at the front doors, while two others were guarding the only opening to the gates. Their heads swivelled around occasionally to ensure no signs of escapees or intruders. There were numerous lamp posts situated at the front gates, illuminating the otherwise dark snow in a chalky glow. The soldiers would be able to spot him with ease if he took that route.

Discouraged, he snuck to the back of the building. It was comparatively dark, most of the area sheathed beneath a shadow. He was able to see with great lucidity. His lupine eyes scoured the largely unprotected area, content that no soldiers lingered. His lips twitched into a smirk as got to his feet and slunk around the back, ensuring to keep a far and safe distance from danger.

Within moments, he reached the back of the fence, his feet inching along to ground to avoid the frozen lake that stretched miles outward. At this point, his bare skin was red from wading through the snow for such lengthy periods of time. His clothes were wet from melted snow and a frigid breeze made him shudder. His eyes swept across the area warily. There were no dogs. He surmised the temperatures to be intolerable to them.

The back of the building, he noted, had a small entrance and excitement wriggled in his gut. Though sheathed beneath darkness, he could see the metal door thirty feet away. His muscles rippled as adrenaline shot through his body. His breathing increased and his heart began to hammer wildly. This was it, he thought, the deciding moment. He gazed behind him at the vast canopy of snow. ‘I could turn back now,’ a whisper muttered in his head, ‘I could forget about them. It’s not too late.’ For a moment, he was conflicted, his brows furrowing as his eyes darted from left to right.

But as the images of his friend flashed in his mind, he knew what must be done. He ignored the miniscule whispers of doubt buzzing in his head and peered up at the towering fence. It was tipped with barbed wire. It would have difficulty puncturing his skin, so he did not fear the jagged points.

He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes momentarily before grasping the chain-link fence. He wove his fingers through the diamond shape holes, hoping to ease himself upward. But as his fists curled around the metal, a pain seared through his flesh, like a flash of lightening shooting through his arm. He gasped and released the fence, his face contorted with pain and bewilderment. Then he drew his hands to his face to examine his palms. The skin was angry red where the metal had touched his skin, as if corrosive.

Though initially perplexed, realization settled in and he allowed an audible curse to roll off his tongue. “Silver,� he snarled, both fearful and angry.

He soothed his burning hands in the snow, allowing himself to ponder momentarily for any way through the impermeable fence. His eyes swept the vicinity for any indication of weakness in the fence. He saw nothing. He combed his fingers through his short chestnut hair, sighing with frustration. But as he did so, his eyes settled on a poplar tree ahead. Though scarce, there were enough for him to make a clean leap over the fence.

He hoped his plan would succeed. The poplar tree was no more than thirty feet high, situated fifteen feet from the fence. He had no other choice. He sauntered towards the tree, gazing upward at the naked branches. They were high set, but he was certain he could reach them.

His fingers reached for the lowest branch and were able to scantily grasp the thin branch. His right hand, fastened around the limb, heaved him up for his left hand to fasten around another twig. He succeeded, his feet dangling off the ground and trying to gain purchase on the smooth surfaced stem. His feet flailed as they unsuccessfully grappled along the tree and he cursed loudly. The twigs he had grasped were creaking and bending under the pressure, prepared to give way at any moment.

He allowed thick claws to protrude from his toenails, burying deep into the soft interior of the tree. Sweat accrued on his brow and his breaths came out in short, sporadic intervals. His feet, no longer swaying, gained purchase on the tree and he kicked upward. He nearly missed the other tree branch, gasping as his hands scrabbled to grip.

Finally, he was able to ascend the unsteady tree with great vigour, ignoring the splintering of branches giving way. He was nearly at the top and when he looked down, his stomach roiled. His mind flooded with disorientation and he almost lost his grip from the tree branch. It was so far!

His hind legs and hands met on a larger branch, which did not protest, but remained sturdy and silent. His eyes were wide with apprehension and his talons gripped the branch with terrifying force. His face flushed with blood, making him lightheaded as he gazed at the ground. The fence was so far away. Doubt. The persistent omen in his endeavours had reoccurred. Only now, it was stronger than ever.

He swallowed a hard lump in his throat as he gazed at the distance. “I can do this, I can do this,� he repeated, muffling the screaming uncertainty in his mind. “Don’t look at the ground. Just jump.� He told himself, inching to the end of the branch. His hands were now trembling as his balance was faltering. He shut his eyes tightly, blood roaring in his ears. “C’mon,� he urged, “do it for them.�
He opened his eyes and peered ahead of him. He inhaled sharply, curling his muscles and sprang, uncoiling and stretching out.

The fear was immense as he dropped towards earth. The fence was so close. ‘I’m not going to make it!’ He thought with horror. Snow whirled in front of him and he could hear the sickening tear of fabric as his left thigh snagged the barbed wire. A pain rippled up his flesh and he knew he had been injured. The barbed wire caused his body to involuntarily twist, his back facing the earth as he dropped. It had done little to ease his descent as his body hit the ground.

Thank you so much, Grayle!! You make me feel so good. I only have pages left before the epilogue I'm gonna hate to end this. This will be my only post today on this forum, as it's late and I have to wake up at 5:30am

Chapter 26
All of the breath escaped his lungs as he landed excruciatingly on his ribs. It pained him, but was minute in comparison to his leg. He lay in the heap of snow, feeling powdery flakes flit up and rest on his face. His arms were bent beside him and his legs were sprawled outward. He gazed skyward, observing the blazing silver moon. He breathed, the sound of his breath filling his ears until he summoned enough energy to sit himself up. Though he wished to remain in the unusually comfortable heap, he knew what must be done.

He had situated himself in a sitting position and gasped when he tried to move his left leg. He already knew it was bad when he saw the snow stained pink with blood. He grimaced as he lifted the shredded remains of the pant leg to inspect the wound. It seeped a dark liquid, dribbling down his thigh and to the snow. Though initially worried about the extent of the damage, he noticed the wound was relatively shallow, but very tender.

The injury would take several hours to heal, in which time the sun would rise and his endeavours would be foiled. He bit back a wail as he forced himself to his feet, limping as he made his way to a green electric box ten feet away. He would have to cut the power before he could enter.
He sauntered towards it, favouring his left leg, but was pleased as it regained mobility.

The electric box hummed with activity, revealing danger signs and safety precautions. But Alex paid little heed to the warning and curled his clawed fingernails around the locked electric case. With little effort, he tore back the door, hearing the metal squeal and warp beneath his fingertips.
He had found what he was looking for. The inside was adorned with switches and wires controlling the building and he shuddered with anticipation.

He examined his talons, relishing in the thought of them tearing through the wires, slicing through metal and devouring it – imagining it to be Crowell.

However, before he could continue with his intended plan, a voice crooned in the silence. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.�

Heavy things happening in the snowfall...

  Well, it's certainly good to know that Alex's leg is healing. Even so, it was a high cost for getting over the fence. it will be interesting to see if it hinders his efforts later on.  I also adored your simile about the consideration being like a splash of water on his back - that was terrific!

  Shubert's outcome was quite a surprise - not only his plight but his return! And yet the way you've written his return gives the reader every reason to not trust him - especially when considering recent deaths in the area and Shubert's current appearance, and also the fact that he cut the cameras but not the alarms. Of course, I may be reading too much into it, but we'll see.

  I did find a few spelling anomalies, but noting to worry about. You'll catch them in the next draft.

  Nonetheless, without explicitly saying it you've let the anticipation blossom into foreboding tension as Alex makes his way into the facility, which only captures the reader's attention all over again.

  Wonderful Job, Punx! Keep it coming!

Finally caught up. Great work!

It's amazing how correct and accurate that funny little voice in the back of our minds is all the time...

  Very nice descriptions of the drug's effect on Alex, Punx. The blurs and buzzing in his head while he figured out what was happening to him, and the lack of response from his arms and legs - all of that was a terrific addition. The shiftiness you gave to Shubert in the previous posts really culminated in that last vision, with him coming up to Alex in petty triumph.

  Very wonderful continuation, Punx! I can't wait to find out what Alex will find when he comes to!

Thank you very, very much, Grayle. I now present you with a new, longer addition:

Chapter 28 – Trapped
Heartbeats. He focused on the noise as it gradually amplified in sound, concentrating on whom it belonged to. They were slow and erythematic, like a precise drum playing in his head. It was his own heartbeat.

He inhaled, hearing the air whoosh down his larynx and through his trachea. His brows furrowed as a dull throbbing returned to the base of his skull. His eyelids weighed heavily on him and he struggled to open them. His mind was filled with a dull buzzing, with no recollection of previous events. Weariness filled his mind and he wished to sleep further, but the nagging headache and curiosity prompted him to rouse.

He moaned slightly, the sound of his own voice foreign to him. He moved his right hand to bring it to his throbbing forehead, but something stopped it. The sound of clanking metal filled his ears as he tugged on the unseen force tethering his wrists. He finally managed to open his eyes, wincing slightly as they adjusted to the light. But as he did so, he gasped. His wrist was shackled to the wall, connected by two feet of chains. Dread and realization consumed him. All of the recent night’s events reeled through his mind, and his eyes widened with horror.   

Silver seared the tender flesh around his wrist and he clenched his teeth together to contain the pain, trying not to scream. His jaw muscle leapt as he groaned, feeling his hands numbing in the cold and lack of circulation.
When he tore his gaze away, horror sliced through him as though someone had plunged a sliver dagger into his abdomen.

Two icy eyes, colder than death, peered back at him. A smile twisted on a smooth face, folding the skin.

Alex gasped, feeling a hard lump swell in his throat. “Crowell,� he muttered, horror engulfing him like a bath of frigid water.

Crowell chortled, satisfaction gleaming in his sapphire eyes. They taunted Alex, revealing his demise. “You were a slippery fish, my friend,� he responded in a voice less that cordial, “but with a little poke in the right direction, I was certain you’d show here.�

Alex knitted his dark brows. “How?� Alex demanded angrily, wanting to know what went wrong, as though he could learn from future mistakes. But there would be no future mistakes, he knew. Not now that death was so imminent. This would be his last and worst mistake – trust.

“You see, when you encountered Jason, I was certain he’d tell you everything. He seems to have a knack of saying too much when in desperate situations.� Crowell stroked his clean shaven face, peering down at Alex over his hooked nose. “You naive mutt,� he exclaimed, flashing his white teeth in a sneer.

Alex’s fear ebbed away as a twinge of anger replaced it. The anger had gotten him here – the need for revenge had compelled him to act too hastily. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ he cursed himself mentally. If only he hadn’t listened to Shubert.

Breaking the mounting silence, Crowell turned away from Alex, clasping his hands behind his back, causing his black suit to ruffle. “Now that I’ve tied up all of the loose ends, the Codoxin project will continue as planned. Just imagine,� he mused aloud, his hands sweeping the air, “a life without famine, disease, or death. You and your gang were standing in the way of that,� his sapphire eyes gleamed with depravity, the vein in his forehead throbbing.
“Just imagine how many lives will be saved...� he was cut off as Alex interrupted him.

“Or destroyed,â€� Alex grunted, no longer fearing what Crowell would do with him – for the time being. “What you did to me,â€� his voice quivered with vehemence, “that’s no utopia.â€�   

Crowell’s eyes danced with anger and hastily ambled towards Alex.

A wave of fear consumed Alex, but his face remained stony, refusing to reveal the flutter of terror in his chest. Before he could withdraw, Crowell’s foot slammed into Alex’s forearm, crushing it beneath the cement floor.

Alex yowled in pain, trying feverishly to bring his left arm to nurse his injured one. The constraints prevented him from reaching his arm and as he pulled harder against the shackles, he felt a shot of pain sear up his arm. The serrated shackles were beginning to bite into his flesh, drawing blood.

“Oh my,� Crowell muttered, feigning concern, but a glint of satisfaction was evident in his expression. When Alex exchanged menacing glances with him, Crowell shrugged. He peered around the room, “You deserve to be here,� he murmured and a flash of rage consumed Alex. “Considering what you’ve done, you deserve death more than anyone in this building. I know what you’ve done,� he whipped around, his eyes unsympathetic and accusing. He was referring to the lives that Alex had taken.

Alex tried unsuccessfully to hide the guilt on his face, “You’re no better. You killed Janis and dozens of others. What about them?�

Crowell puffed out his chest haughtily, “What I did was for the best for mankind. If I wasn’t here to hamper the population of werewolves, this world would be much worse off. Just imagine if you decided to turn against humanity. All the innocent lives that would be lost.� He spoke with fierce passion, which danced in his eyes.

Alex was enraged by Crowell’s sense of warped reality and retorted, “Just because your family was killed by a crazed lunatic it doesn’t mean we’re all the same.�

Crowell revolved to face Alex. Beneath the emotionless mask, he saw a flash of hurt in the man’s eyes, as though he hadn’t recovered from the loss. Realizing his mistake, Crowell stiffened and regained his composure. A wicked grin twisted on his face and his piercing gaze was settled on Alex – or rather, through Alex.

Alex shuddered under the intense gaze and Crowell seemed to pick up on it, his eyes cool and collected. “You will die tonight,� he murmured, relishing in Alex’s stricken face. As though teasing him, Crowell turned to the metal door and exited. He would make him wait apprehensively for death.

However, before he exited the room, Alex caught a glimpse of Crowell gingerly stroking his wedding ring.

I just have to thank you guys for those comments. My smile is literally bursting over the seams, so to speak.

Thank you! I'll have more tomorrow

Hooooooly Guacamole.
This was a very touching, tragic, and tormenting scene, Punx. Alex is set face to face with the consequences of his involvement, but the unconditional friendship of Steven is also resilient against the onslaught. Especially after the previous segment with the gloating Crowell, this was really well-placed and well-described. Even with all of the other circumstances of Alex's story that seemed inescapable, this one takes the cake, and takes our breath away as well.

  Very very well done, Punx. In truth, you never cease to amaze me with your writing and your storytelling.

  Wow.