It was the fifth night in cell 16, my reflection staring back at me. The lights had gone out on the evening of the second day, leaving me and the rest of the people here shrouded in darkness after 4pm. No one has come to check on us since then, and the food they left me ran out yesterday morning. There were sirens outside, but they stopped yesterday too. I don't know what's going on, or if I'll even find a way out of here, but I hope the family is okay. Jesse always was the dumb one, getting into...
The storm clouds gathered as Isaiah stepped back to the edge of the green.
The weather mirrored his mood: top ten was not enough. Podium finishes were not enough. Second place was NOT ENOUGH. He was the BEST, and he was going to prove it to the world once again.
A soft pitter-patter of raindrops began to sprinkle down upon the aged lawn bowler's wispy-haired head. He ignored its effect on his body, blinking the water out of his eyes, but he factored it in for his movements, making subtle adjustments to his stride, his footing, and his release. He...
He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. The worse part was not the attempt on his life via drowning in ice water. It was not that he was probably on the verge of hypothermia like this. It was not that he had lost Labyrinth to the bottom of the lake. It was not the twitching brow and veiled contempt Solaris was expressing from him dripping water on his floors, mixed with his concern for his overall state of being, because all that could be fixed with a towel and a day of work.
No,...
Immediately he ripped his dresser draw open. Rummaging through the clothes all neatly packed. Foot steps are heard fro behind him the faster the steps the faster his arms move. As his hands go farther in the back he reaches his savior. Silver and heavy his desert eagle is aimed at the figure in the doorway. The door closed shut behind him. The footsteps have stopped and his heart still pounding. Sweat dripping his chin to his already drenched shirt. His breathing heavy he clutches his gun. Ready to Fire whom ever this is on the other side of the...
It approached.
It was too bright. Light wasn't meant to be frightening, but this one was - it was too bright, and there was too much there, it meant too much.
Easier to turn away. But that wasn't an option anymore; there were other powers at work here. There was no escape route.
Everything was happening too quickly. No time to work out what to do, no time to even begin to create other options.
Just the light. The light and the fear. And the horror that was approaching.
In a rush, in a horrific scream, bathed in terrifying light,...
Mal says, "Don't think this'll pass, and I'll cool down and think the chill of my loneliness can be warmed by blanket of your love. Your love is a cold, salty bar rag."
"I waited by your side for months until you healed. No one else ever came to see you," cried Layla.
"Yeah, well, who asked you? Maybe I put myself in that coma for a moment of peace. Christ, you can't take a hint. And get that kid outta here. Wasn't mine, even in theory.
"And neither were you."
Whitechapel 1888. There was blood on my pillow again this morning when I awoke. My landlady has already been asking too many questions. It is time I moved to another residence.
I am looking forward to reading the newspapers today to gather the latest opinion on the terror in their midst. My good friends have been spreading rumours in many quarters so there have been a myriad of possible suspects, including those in very high places. The police are far too stupid to know where to look. I take especial delight in fooling Inspector Abberline, who should never have been...
Nothing is more terrifyingly beautiful than the intensity of a woman's Stare.
Not a gaze or a glace, but a Stare. One that lasts longer than a couple
seconds but no longer than a minute. The kind that cuts its way through
you, making you feel more- and at the same time, less- secure in your
strength as a man.
The only sound that broke the stillness was the sound of the horses' hooves as they struck the ground. Garth took off his hat and waved it in front of his face.
"How can you see like that?" asked Becky, motioning to the endlessly flat landscape before them. Sand reflected the unending glare of the sun.
"I read somewhere that you lose more body heat through your head than anywhere else," said Garth, fanning himself with the straw monstrosity.
"So you're choosing to be cool over being able to see?" Becky shielded her own eyes from the light.
"Buck here...
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
The 'experts' can talk all they like about Sleep Paralysis but I'm not convinced. I want to believe them, I really do, but that 'somebody' has always been there.
It's my first memory and will probably be my last. A shadow, a presence looming over my life. Never speaking but all seeing and so very dark.
Spritualists want to convince me it's my 'guardian angel' but I'm not convinced. I don't feel very guarded by it. Quite the opposite.
I should have never acknowledged it, never mentioned it, never tried to...