Myron knew exactly who was at the evidence section that day so he was confident that he wouldn’t be questioned. It was quite a surprise for him to hear Constable Sergei Grant, AKA Serg, to actually ask him what his request was for. "No offence intended, Sir, but you aren’t connected to the team in charge of this case if I remember correctly,” the younger officer said while scratching behind his uniform’s collar. The Detective’s thoughts: “Ok, he’s not exactly aggressive towards me so that would mean he’s just a little unsure about the consequences of giving in to my request. Not so hard to deal with…” "Yup, I do admit it. I’m not part of the investigators in this case. However, I have this feeling that there’s an angle here that we can use to finally bring down those bastards.” "Do you mean the governor’s private army, The Argerlich?” "Shhh, be careful what you say out loud, Serg. You know that there’s no proof that the governor is indeed the leader of those Argers.” "Come on, Li

He was also called “The Ogre” by the majority of the city’s populace… At least, that was the name given to him by those who were aware of the private army he led and operated. Of course, he was also aware that this dreaded nickname of his was due to the constant mispronunciation of his highly feared organization’s name and not because he chose it. Well, he didn’t mind… As long as they remained a threat to their enemies and their dreadful reputation remained strong in their territories, then he would keep such a tag. After all, it was the people who had given him that frightening label, and if it worked to him and his men’s advantage, then so be it. Besides, he would rather have his real name remain a secret. And speaking of secrets, though it was an “open secret” that his mafia-like band of around 100 or so men was actually owned by the governor himself, there was still no solid evidence or proof that these allegations were true. Due to this, he was considered the leader of this g

The morning was warm and bright and it was the perfect time for her and her children to harvest the ripe fruits and fresh vegetables from their backyard. The smiling redhead was now carrying a large woven basket with her, as her grinning seven-year-old son and giggling five-year-old daughter followed her with smaller baskets of their own. "Mommy, mommy, look at this!” loudly announced the sweet little lass with blond, curly hair that was tied and braided with a cute violet ribbon. "My strawberry plants have ripe fruits now.” The mommy gave a pretend gasp of delight that was totally believable to her children. “Oh, my goodness, baby. You’re right! They are finally ripe! Good girl!” "But they look so small, mommy,” stated the big brother, who earned a pout from his little sister. “Oh, they may be tiny, my darling boy, but they are twice sweeter than the ones we buy at the grocery store. Come on, both of you try it.” "NO! He said bad things about my strawberries. He has no right to

“Thank you for accompanying me, Miss Diwana, you really didn’t have to,” Eron said, putting a few pieces of fresh steak that he bought on his way back from the lumber camp into an already hot pot over his small bonfire. With a smile, he then added a few herbs, a pinch of salt and a dash of pepper. Eron couldn't help but grin at the chance to actually cook a meal for the woman beside him. It was truly an advantage to live in a place where people cultivated and bred their own food and then sold it themselves. They were mostly driving in with a truck loaded with vegetables and/or newly butchered meats, and even cheese with other kinds of produce to places like the lumber camp, a few far-off places where workers were, in the same style that Diwana sold her food. Just so happened that a small truck passed by the lumberyard as they were about to leave. And how they ended up leaving his workplace together was still something that Eron was quite happy about. He couldn't help but remember i

“So, I felt uncomfortable back then, and it became something more usual, you know? Him being sort of nice, and then being really weird, even sometimes I got the feeling that he was possessive,” she said, her eyes looking far away even while, from time to time, she continued eating another spoonful of soup.“That’s quite a story,” Eron said, but more focused on that last part. “Possessive? With you? What do you mean?”“Well, yeah, kind of territorial. I dismiss it as if it's a joke, when it comes from him, getting closer and telling weird things as if I was an object that belongs to him, and even more when it comes from others around me. And I hear people say things like ‘oh, don’t get too close to her, you know Mad Max will get madder,’ or something like that but I find it very uncomfortable, to be honest.”She finished the last of the soup in her bowl and was now completely full, while enjoying the company... Diwa was even happier because it was still early and she was out in the for