Arlene slapped him. Markus slammed her back, hard, against a car. He looked at the human, and his face twisted as if smelling filth. Dirty, primitive … hateful … Animals. He raised his blaster. There was a flash and a crackle. It hurt so much. Arlene cried. There was burning. It hurt. It hurt … Arlene Herrera’s world faded to white.
And what purpose does this exactly serve?
