Amber Silverblood: Chapter Sixty Eight
Chapter sixty eight the roads were beginning to fill up as early morning commuters headed to work. the octopus cackled as he slammed the side of the limo into a minivan, sending it careening off the road. "out of the way!"
Revaramek the Resplendent: Chapter Sixty Four
. \*\*\*\*\* chapter sixty four \*\*\*\*\* the creak of the door opening startled vakaal from his fitful slumber. he jumped to his feet, reaching for his knife. but it hadn't been it his hip since the day he was caught.
Revaramek the Resplendent: Chapter Sixty Three
. \*\*\*\*\* chapter sixty three \*\*\*\*\* sometime in the dark of night, revaramek awoke with a piercing scream. he jumped to his paws so fast he banged his head against the stone ceiling. pain thudded through him and brought a second cry.
Seekers: Chapter Three: The Deal
"this is rover sixty." a monotone voice said. "new vega, rover sixty. respond, respond. package secure...one million packed and ready...under sixty...rover...rover sixty...this is rover sixty."
Blood Red: Chapter Four: The Red Fox
"barely fifty dollars lost; not much, considering how much money we gained over sixty years back." "you mean the money i gained." i said assertively, bringing my head down and meeting the administrator's gaze.
Decrpypting a Fox
We," he pointed to the badger and the scruffy-looking rabbit, "are going to the sixty-first floor. the kid will get into the security centre and give us access from there.
Typheks Origins
The prophecy behind typhek extends back to millions of years, during his species predominance in laramidia (north america) sixty-five to sixty-seven million years ago at the cretaceous period.
Agents of C.O.W.- Prologue
Alert and more than a little worried, patti grabbed her sixty-shooter and a few rounds before heading out of her quarters.
Stolen Ribbons (Otherwise Untitled)
It'd be either fifty-seven percent, or sixty-two percent." ~ bell blinked.
Time
Since there is no way to escape it, must i find a way to live with it, this notion that in the next sixty seconds, my heart will beat over sixty and up to a hundred _times_. without time, can there be music? for music needs a beat.
Black Ice
"we could go round sixty-two, route sixty-two, if you want? it might be bit iced up," i sneezed into my glove, "but, there's no rush, right?"
A Year Later, Wounds Still Lie Open
And then, all of a sudden, three hundred and sixty five days have gone by, three hundred and sixty five.