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Sonic High Ch. 1: The Mirror
It was a bright sunny day on Mobius and well known hero, Sonic the Hedgehog, was out on a run through the grassy fields of Green Hill Zone. He was keeping a good pace as he sped through the hills and slid through a tight opening into a cave then emerged out on the other side. He decided to relax for a few minutes before heading back.
“Whew! That was quite a rush! I wonder if taking the even longer way back will be just as thrilling.”
He sat down and looked around before he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. Sonic turned around and saw a bird hovering in front of him. In its talons was a chilidog.
Sonic smiled. “Hey! Thanks little guy! I really appreciate it!” He said before taking the footlong and biting into it, chewing for a few, and finally swallowing.
Just as he turned back to the bird, the blue hedgehog noticed something in the distance.
“Hmm...Experience has taught me to investigate anything out of the ordinary.” He said before dashing off to get
Sonic High Ch. 4: Books n' Brainiacs
As Sonic and Tails entered the school library, Sunset Shimmer was right behind them. She then remembered about one key fact Sonic had told her. “He’s with Twilight!” she pondered for a moment before whistling.
Within seconds, her dim-witted minions rushed over. “Snips and Snails reporting for duty, Sunset Shimmer!” they said.
Sunset grinned mischievously. “Get in there and have your phones on hand. Whenever you see her doing anything worth laughing at, record it!” she ordered.
The two saluted her. “As you wish!” they replied before doing as told.
Meanwhile, Twilight was wandering around the huge room, browsing the shelves before she turned around to notice Sonic and someone new. “Sonic! Back already! Uh...who’s this?” she asked, pointing at Tails who introduced himself with a smile.
“I’m Miles Prower, expert mechanic and A+ Student. So you must be the new girl...um...Twilight Sparkle was it?” he a
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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