“All of this was foreseen.”
“It was?” Hilliard dared to ask.
“Of course. The multiverse is infinite in its impossibilities; it's the most twisted of surprise boxes.”
Suddenly, she was no longer on the throne. It happened in a split second. Sam L. Hilliard felt his whole body freeze with terror when two pale hands rested on his shoulders and a breath as cold as the air in a crypt caressed the skin on the back of his neck.
“It was only a matter of time before a stitch went wrong in the embroidery of my plan,” she said, almost whispering in his ear. The feeling of terror he always felt in her presence was growing, as if multiplying with every passing second.
-Excerpt from Creepy Mysterious (or, Beyond the Wednesday-Verse), Chapter 18: Interludes.












