It is seemed now I've been followed by angel statues all the way to the roof of Winter Quay. I am now the dying detective. There is nothing that can stop it. Hard to admit, but Grayle was right, these statues can move not just in the dark, just without in sight. These statues look like angels found in a graveyard. Well now it looks like the angels take Manhattan, and there's nothing I can do about it, because I died.
YOU ARE READING
Melody Malone
Science FictionNew York Growled at my window. A friend once told this was the town of a million stories. Some nights I felt like they were all happening to me. This was one of those nights. But what the hell - my stocking seams were straight, my lipstick was comba...
