“It’ll be a breeze” He says, clicking on a harness. Whilst I inwardly sigh, biting my lip and curtly nodding. “You kill me..” I let out meekly, my facade as hard as the concrete against our feet.
My hands are clammy, sweaty, and for some reason I can’t stop pulling the collar of my shirt away from the skin of my neck. Breathe, pull. Breathe, pull. Breathe, “Hey, you with me?” The boy beside me as...
I never wanted to live through this. I never agreed to be zombie bait. My initial plan was to just end it all before any of it even began. But even then, with the gun in my hands, I couldn’t do it. Something nagged at me to stay.
Now I wish I had. If I knew it would be this much work to survive, maybe I’d of just done it. Maybe I’d of just given up.
It had been fifteen years since the sun had last risen.
Everybody was causing chaos, upon seeing first light. And once again, the world began to burn.
Fires erupted throughout the grounds of Jasper, the planet that was supposed to be furthest from the lava ridden star. However, every fifteen years, solar rotation placed Jasper right at its side.
The people ran to their underground bunkers, a s...
“You’ve got the wrong guy!” he shouted, dazed and confused.
The teenage boy was struggling at the hands of an older man who’s breath reeked of alcohol. The boy shuddered against his firm grip, desperate eyes squinting up to the bearded man’s face.
“You tellin’ me you ain’t the one that knocked over my bike?” The man growled, and with tightening fingertips, the boy was pulled an inch closer to hi...
The old Italian man had exclaimed, throwing out his arms and doing a small turnaround in the centre of the living room. His renter only stared at him, smiling thankfully and hiding his nervousness.
It was this renters first time renting, and he was anxious to see his living space. The owners of said house were an old Italian couple, and though they were old, the house did...
To astral project is one thing, but to completely step into another universe; well that’s just make belief.
Lyra Jones has been having a hard time; suffering through nights of sleep paralysis and nightmares, she is sick of waking up shaken. However, on one fateful night her routine seems to.. flip. Instead of being paralyzed to her mattress by some eerie force, Lyra Jones is pulled from her body....
“Your honour, I plea innocent.” I insist, with folded hands and a straightened posture. I’m certain I can sway this jury, before the judge beats the stand. It doesn’t help that every time I glance down to my palms, they appear red-stained, I have yet to know why. The jury can’t see my blood stained hands, can they? Is that why my case is so helpless?
