4/5 Google S. 1 year ago on Google
In
the
post-apocalyptic
world
after
the
Great
Cataclysm,
survival
was
an
everyday
challenge.
BeeRam,
a
weary
traveler,
had
been
wandering
for
days,
looking
for
a
place
to
rest
and
regain
his
strength.
As
the
sun
began
to
set,
he
spotted
a
roadside
toilet
cell
and
approached
it.
He
knocked
on
the
door,
and
to
his
surprise,
it
was
opened
by
a
towering
figure
in
a
tattered
cloak.
It
was
the
Roadmaster.
"You
seek
shelter?"
the
Roadmaster
asked,
his
voice
deep
and
gruff.
"You
must
first
please
me."
BeeRam
tensed,
wondering
what
strange
and
twisted
demand
the
Roadmaster
might
make.
"What
do
you
want
me
to
do?"
BeeRam
asked.
The
Roadmaster's
eyes
glinted
in
the
dim
light
of
his
lantern.
"Dance
a
jig,"
he
said,
with
a
wicked
grin.
BeeRam's
heart
sank.
He
had
never
danced
in
his
life,
let
alone
performed
a
jig.
But
he
had
no
choice.
He
began
to
move
his
feet
clumsily,
trying
to
imitate
a
dance
he
had
seen
years
ago.
The
Roadmaster
watched
intently,
his
arms
folded
across
his
chest.
After
what
seemed
like
an
eternity,
he
nodded
in
approval.
"You
may
stay,"
he
said,
and
closed
the
door.
BeeRam
collapsed
against
the
wall,
exhausted
and
relieved.
He
had
earned
his
shelter
for
the
night,
but
at
what
cost?
As
he
drifted
off
to
sleep,
he
wondered
what
other
horrors
the
Roadmaster
might
have
in
store
for
him
on
his
journey
ahead.
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