Some notes before we begin.

1. These two snippets are sneak peeks for things that I may never write. However, I've decided to share them with y'all anyways. They're both named with lyrics from songs, the first one from Industry Baby and the second one from Dream Sweet In Sea Major.

2. The first of these stories is pretty light-hearted. Probably a bit violent, but all of it would be implied. The second one, on the other hand, would have some extremely dark, possibly triggering content in the full version.

I've decided not to list most of the triggers, since many of them don't even appear in this short segment. However, this bit does contain cult activity, human sacrifice, a little bit of blood, and implied stalking/breaking and entering.

3. These names (except for Vox Caedes, which I had to translate) are directly from my brain. Didn't even use a generator. As such, they may not make sense. Or even be real names.

4. This was only supposed to be dialogue. And it was gonna be, like, 200 words at first. I'm glad I got to write this much, but also, now it's almost 11PM and my hands hurt. :,D

AND THIS ONE IS FOR THE CHAMPIONS

"I want this report in by Monday."

The sergeant nodded, saluting dutifully. "Sir, yes, sir."

"Good. Oh, and tell Regis-"

General Vernon was cut off by his door swinging open. Standing in the entryway was a ragged, exhausted person. They were covered in dirt and soot, badge nearly hidden beneath all the grime.

The general's mouth didn't drop open, exactly, but it might as well have. She supposed to be away in Mexico, not stumbling into his office. "Colonel Baxter? What are you doing here?"

"Something came up," she said gruffly. She'd never cared for saluting, but they dragged herself into one now and added, "Sir."

Vernon felt a shiver of unease run down his spine. "Clearly. You look like hell," he tried to joke, only to be met with dead silence.

It was then that the sergeant spoke up. "May I leave, sirs?"

"You're dismissed," General Vernon said, watching them go.

Baxter quietly shut the door as Vernon whispered, "Sergeants, huh?" He tried for a smile.

Again, the colonel shot him an icy, deadpan look. He really should have expected that. His smile dropped off his face as he folded his hands in front of him. "Uh- Right. What happened?"

Baxter looked mildly relieved to be back on topic. "Vox Caedes is back," they said without preamble.

General Vernon felt the floor drop out from under him, that shiver turning into ice-water fear. "Wh-What? How?"

"A crime scene popped up recently. All of the signs pointed to them," she explained. "They even left a note addressed specifically to you." They slipped a paper onto his desk, and he grabbed his glasses to read it.

The Voice of Carnage whispers to you, Rodney.

Can you hear it?

We are waiting for you in hell, my love.

In a different color, the translator—Sparrow—had explained that the message was originally in Arabic. The odd way the last sentence had been written was apparently the best way to convey its meaning.

Rodney looked up from the note. "Maybe it's not them," he reasoned desperately. "It could just be a copycat trying to scare us. Did you see any other evidence?"

The colonel nodded. "There seemed to have been a firefight. Burn marks in the ground and walls and unnatural cracks. Along with that, there were DNA traces that didn't match anything in the police's database."

His shoulders dropped and he let his head sink into his hands. "God damn it."

THE STARS WERE MADE FOR FALLING

It was a beautiful night. Light pollution drowned out most of the stars, but some of them shone defiantly despite it all, and the moon was full and bright. Despite that, Lorelei and her misguided follower were far from the stars.

She felt a prickle in the back of her mind. Sarah had passed the first ward and was descending down, down, into the labyrinth.

Good. She had been getting impatient, wondering if she needed to do something drastic. Now the first gear was set in motion, and all she had to do was wait for the rest of the world to catch up.

She paced around the pedestal. It was the perfect size and shape for a full-grown man to lie down; the grooves carved into it would collect the blood, and there were places to attach chains so that the victim couldn't escape.

It was a work of art, really. Lorelei felt a glow of pride every time she had the honor of sacrificing someone on it.

Another prickle reminded her of the task at hand. She slipped down from the altar site, walking down the steps and continuing until she reached the elevator doors.

Soon enough, Sarah was standing in front of her. The anger and worry on her face quickly melted into terror. "L-Lorelei, this- You hadn't- It's not what it looks like," she managed, stumbling over her words.

The vessel smiled. "It's alright," she said, voice soft and cool as a pillow. "I understand."

Relief flooded into Sarah's eyes. "Thank you..." Her voice trailed off, and she glanced away.

The string tying them together tightened. How irritating. Lorelei would be so glad to get rid of it. She kept her smile on, though, as she gestured for Sarah to follow her.

The other woman seemed star-struck by the Hall of [placeholder]. Her eyes kept shifting around the room, then snapping back to Lorelei with confusion and awe.

To her credit, Sarah managed to contain her questions until they reached the top of the stairs. When Lorelei stopped walking and sat on the alter, her follower asked, "What is this place? How did you fit it under your house...?"

Her smile turned sharp, though she doubted that Sarah would notice. "Don't you see? This whole place, but especially this pedastal, is a miracle."

"I'm... not quite sure what you mean." Sarah's eyes followed Lorelei as the starborn stood up.

"Why don't you lay on the altar and find out?"