Klass Digest Group

Several parties that took place in Miami where murders took place all pointed to one man. It is because of that one man that I decided to visit Los Angeles. Dexter thought to himself, pondering the evidence that had accrued over the years, but he was far too busy to notice before. Too busy killing other serial killers, not unlike himself, except for his ‘Code.’ It was his code of conduct developed by his late adopted father, Harry, that kept him Dexter alive and from getting caught.

Dexter Morgan had seen many types of evil in his life, but Los Angeles had a peculiar kind of darkness. The evidence he'd uncovered during his work as Miami's blood-spatter expert pointed to one man, a charming nightclub owner with an unsettling knack for leaving chaos in his wake—Lucifer Morningstar.

Dexter arrived in L.A. under the guise of a tourist but was, as…

Sam Elliott squinted into the dusk, his mustache twitching ever so slightly. He’d been out here on this dusty trail for a few hours now, guiding a few cattle over rugged terrain, when he heard a strange, high-pitched snickering from the bushes nearby.

A scrawny, green-skinned creature about three feet tall popped out from behind a cactus. Its big, bulbous eyes blinked up at him, yellow as fresh corn, with a mouth full of crooked teeth that looked better suited for tearing through shoe leather than anything else. The creature wore a ragged burlap sack as a shirt and brandished a makeshift club that looked like a stick it had probably stolen from some poor hiker.

Sam stopped, hands on his hips, a bemused expression beneath his signature silver-streaked mustache. “Well, I’ll be,” he muttered in that legendary drawl of his, deep and gravelly as a canyon echo. “A goblin.”