KILLER IN THE LOOKING GLASS
Shimmering vaguely beyond a curtain of rain and gloom, there is a skyline peppered with glowing embers. Above is a pale moon of terrifying proportions. The moon has twin orbs for eyes. They are rimmed in red and full of loathing.
They are glaring at me.
They are my own eyes, reflected in the rain-drizzled Plexiglass portal of the lifter. Interior illumination and exterior darkness have transformed the portal into a looking glass. A mirror.
I don't like mirrors. Mirrors hurt.
Instinctively, I lift my Recoil pistol and blast the portal away. Cool wind washes in and splashes against my face, tosses my hair. Rain tickles my skin. Broken glass crunches underfoot as I step away from the opening. I feel much better now. Guns are like medicine, and are used as suc
