All About the Anthonys

That night . . .

Bernie Corwin, a night security officer at the U.S. Mint, found himself face to face with something he never thought he’d live to see.

He had gone to investigate a noise on the second floor and had found a glowing blue specter floating in the main conference room.

“Hey . . . wh-wh-what are you d-d-doing there?”

The specter turned to face him. It was clearly female, with the pallor of a corpse. She wore an ivory blouse with a long black skirt and her dark salt-and-pepper hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She moaned pitifully at him.

“I d-don’t know what you want, uh . . . lady, but I’m giving you to three to get outta here!” He pulled his pistol and pointed it at her, his hands trembling. She frowned at him, but did not move. “One! T-T-Two!”

Suddenly she screamed, a long unearthly howl. Corwin yelled, “They don’t pay me enough for this shit!” and tore from the room, slamming the door behind him.