The iron gate opens with a shriek of rusted metal. The year has come full circle. Their time is upon us once more. The riders are abroad.
Once they were great captains of industry. If they still had faces, you would know them.
One of them turns a hollow hood towards you, giving you a glimpse of the nothingness within.
A voice that comes from no human lips echoes in your mind.
“Buyer... bargainsssssss...”
The figure unsheathes a pricing gun and advances, implacable as winter itself.
Your only hope, to defeat it with the truth of its own meaninglessness.
“The sales started a week ago!”
It stops and lets out a baleful shriek. You feel a year of your life drained away. And then it is gone, leaving only shreds of dark postage wrapping.
You are safe. For now. But you know the discounts will continue through the weekend.
And beyond.
Tales From Black Friday
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