Maggie Glass Novels & Stories

ELENA The low fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing everything in a sterile, humming glow. Maggie sat across from me, wrists cuffed, the chains on the table between us rattling softly every time she moved. Her eyes were red, her mouth pressed into a thin, trembling line. She looked like a ghost of the girl I'd once known—the fierce, defiant Maggie who'd survived things we didn’t speak about. I waited. I let the silence stretch until it pressed against my ribs, until she had no choice but to speak.

Reese pulled a slim glass vial from his pocket and smeared the reader with a clear gel. “Borrowed this from a friend in Munich,” he said. “Tricks the scanner into thinking it’s just been used.” The light turned green. The door slid open with a hiss. --- Inside was a chamber straight out of Mara’s nightmares. Rows of black server towers hummed in dim blue light. Screens suspended from the ceiling streamed lines of shifting code, the characters warping in ways that made her eyes ache if she stared too long. And at the center, on a pedestal of glass, sat another cube.

Maggie jumped back. She didn’t recognise him from the pack. Yes, it was a big pack, but she had eidetic memory, also known as photographic memory. Even if it was by a glance, Maggie would recognise if the person was from the pack. Gulping down her fear, she tilted her chin up, staring down the beast whose dark eyes kept roaming her body with intrigue. “Who are you? What do you want?” Maggie asked, her voice calmer and louder than she expected. The usual squeak of her voice was gone.

As it is, no one could see him except, of course, me. All they could see is an hovering dragon. "Don't move, Megan." He ordered and I stopped. I was just few feet away from Mrs Spears and the mansion's entrance. "You don't need to try anything funny." I watched him control bricks with his other hand. Those bricks hit the workers that were running around the house. Dead bodies kept increase. The sight I hate most - "But too late, Sage." I half yelled as I ran towards Mrs Spears, pulled her down with me to dodge the charging bricks and we disappeared into the mansion. I released her from my grip and I noticed she had lost consciousness.

"Miles, I'm sure you know that I have nothing to do with Maggie anymore. The person you should be calling isn't me—it's Scotty Pipes. "If Maggie is drunk, then you can just ask Scotty to pick her up. I'm sure that's what she'd want—" Before I could finish speaking, Maggie's hysterical voice exploded down the line. "Aaron, I want you! I only want you to pick me up! It's been so long since you made your homemade hangover remedy for me!" In my previous life, after Maggie and I got married, she'd frequently attend social events where there would be a lot of drinking involved, and I would always prepare my special hangover remedy for her. Every time she came home, there would be a mug of it ready

I miss them so much. I was still in shock — I was really going to work at The JACOBS Company. That’s crazy! The thought of it made my stomach flutter. I had only been to the office once for my interview, and it wasn’t much of a distance from my house. Yet, I didn’t want to show up all sweaty, so I quickly ordered a ride, which was just a few minutes away. Before going i saw my reflection in the mirror and whispered to myself, “Damn, your girl looks so fine. I’m not about to play with this position.”

Maggie said, coming closer to him. "Don't say I've changed, that's my mistake. I'm hurting, and all you see is this?" he shouted at Maggie. Maggie takes a step back, her heart shattering as tears start to well up in her eyes. The anger in Oliver's voice is a shock to her system, leaving her reeling. Maggie is known for being a highly skilled and efficient assassin, who has always maintained a reputation for being cold-hearted and indifferent to the emotional turmoil of others.

Things remain a little tense with Michael, but thankfully it’s time for me to go and check in with Maggie and see what my duties are today, so, I politely excuse myself and race off to the kitchen where Maggie is commanding her army. Maggie is 5’8” with military posture, shoulder-length dark brown layered hair, a stern face with kind cocoa eyes and dark caramel skin. She always dresses in a professional manner, so she’s wearing a long-sleeved nude-pink satin blouse tucked into high-waisted dark brown slacks with shoes with the tiniest heels I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how to describe them, I’m not a fashion expert, but I can at least tell they match her blouse.

But then I remembered, just then I remembered the anonymous message on Veil. Veil was discreet, yet it had cameras. What if this place actually did have camera? What if someone was watching me? I closed Mid- Stroke, I looked up at the ceiling. There was no light, no sign of a visible camera. But this house had glass ceilings and glass hiding things. I stood up slowly, my heart pounding. I still had my phone in my hand, I still held my dick in the other. If someone was watching, let them watch, I'm going to put on a show for them.

Maggie was not wearing her uniform, and she was in short shorts and a large sweater that covered her hands and covered much of her waist. She was barefoot with her bare legs, her white skin almost shone in the apartment light, and her blond hair fluttered in the wind, not so long at the height of her shoulders. It gave off a floral fragrance that made Rick stay mesmerized for a moment as he passed him. She carried her cell phone in one hand and the two pizza boxes in the other. Looking around again, Maggie says with a smile, “This place is most impressive when natural light comes in.” She then sneakly glanced at the coffee table, before she walked gently and drop the pizza boxes on it. Maggi