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The Angle of Death

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." The basso profundo voice echoed oddly in the stillness. Perhaps it was more than merely odd, since Greg was on a golf course.

Greg looked around, trying to figure out why someone was talking to him on the golf course, he'd come out here alone. When he'd walked into the copse to locate his ball, he hadn't seen anyone nearby.

I must be losing my mind.

Greg squared his shoulders, addressed the ball, and practiced his swing. If it he did it just right, it would slide through the trees and back onto the fairway. He took a step forward. Leaned back into his stroke, and sliced the ball with great speed. The ball almost immediately rebounded from the tree, slamming into Greg's temple and sending him to the ground, dead.

A sharply outlined dark form materialized above Greg's corpse. Emitting a sigh, the form looked down, "They so seldom listen. It's like they don't even know basic geometry." The angular figure left the body there, feeling a pull from another person facing imminent peril from poor geometric judgement.

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Jennifer looked at the slope of the hill with growing dread.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Kim?"

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"It's not." Not-Kim's anti-soprano voice reverberated in the air.

The girls squealed and started in surprise, causing the toboggan to begin down the hill.

"Oops. That one's on me." The deep voice rumbled sharply.

The toboggan rapidly gained speed, careening out of control as it reached the bottom of the snowy slope, heading toward a small boulder. Neither girl saw the dark form that materialized in a wedge, tipping the toboggan abruptly and spilling them into the snow. They rolled to an abrupt stop as they dashed against the rock. "Sorry. You dying from your choice of angle is fine. Didn't mean to make you choose a bad one." Neither girl really heard the apology, since they were dazed by the sudden stop, but they somehow both knew that they had been just a few degrees from very different kind of meeting with the Angle of Death.

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Sam knew he was cutting it close as he raced toward the stairs. Rushing down them, he skipped several stairs with each step. He caught a glimpse of a dark figure just rounding the corner ahead of him.

"Wait!" he yelled. "Wait!"

He rounded the corner, but the figure was gone. Sam turned to go back into the stairwell, when he heard a brief scream followed by a thud.

"I told him he didn't have enough speed to make the distance with that angle." The deep voice coming from the street echoed in the stairwell. "What kind of math are they teaching in school these days."

Sam looked around the corner again, this time seeing an obtuse figure holding a long staff with a sharply pointed triangular blade extending from one side.

He shuddered, and then quickly turned and fled up the stairs. He didn't want to see whatever the Angle of Death might be looking at, and he surely didn't want to draw any acute attention his way.

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