“Come on boy,” Harry said, holding his hand out in Buster’s direction, “What’s wrong?”

Buster rested his head between his paws, sorrowful eyes staring up at the men.

“Is it because of your master?”

Buster’s head shot up. Master? What’s wrong with Master?

Harry glanced over at his partner. “What are we going to do with him?”

Do with me? No, Master will be right back. He went out Buster’s thoughts stopped. He stared at the door to the balcony, there.

Something felt wrong. He tentatively sniffed the air.

Buster glanced back at the men. Can’t move.

Buster stood up and made his way to the door. He knew we was being bad. You don’t move until you hear release.

He made it outside to the edge of the balcony, worry gripping him.


Another step and his head was staring out over the void to the street below.


In the middle of a car was Master. Something was very wrong. Master didn’t move.


Master just stared back up at him with cold, lifeless eyes.


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