[x]

Around 21 years ago in Japan there was a city. This city seemed normal, like the others, but it had something different about it; it was plagued by two resident demons and two wandering shinigami (Death god).

Unfortunately for the citizens of this city, the shinigami and demons did what one would expect them to do; murder people. Although once in a while someone managed to wound one of them, the creatures always got away with their malicious deeds. And like many creatures of this sort, most people thought of them as just a myth to frighten children.

“Don’t stay up past dark or the demons will get you!” People would tell

Forgotten Past - Part 1 - Chapter 2

About ten years pass by. Kurai, Yuki, and Kage were all doing well for themselves. Kurai and Yuki taught Kage many things over the years; skills and abilities that would aid him in his life. Kage was eager to learn, although sometimes forgetful of key attributes; such as when you climb a tree, you need to keep your claws unsheathed or else you fall, which he did; many times.

Over time he mastered his claws and climbing abilities, and had mastered his parkour skills as well. He wasn’t allowed to go out and ‘hunt’ like his father did in the city; so he spent a lot of his time chasing after animals and or birds. He never kil

Forgotten Past - Part 1 - Chapter 3

Kurai was still in pursuit of the man walking alone. The man turned a corner and Kurai followed; out of sight. He saw that the man was headed towards an apartment building, probably where he lived.

Moving more quickly now, Kurai went ahead of the man and towards the apartment building. The harsh white light of the light bulbs near the entrance of the building left dark shadows behind objects and around corners; Kurai crawled behind one of the corners and waited.

The man walked closer to the entrance; unaware of the creature lurking in the darkness of the night. He reached for the handle of the door like everything was normal; when sudden

Forgotten Past - Part 1 - Chapter 6

Kurai and Yuki took Kage back home. Kurai had a few deep gashes on him and was bleeding, so Yuki ordered Kage to go to his room and stay there.

Kage went to his room grudgingly. He closed the door behind him and lied down on his bed, gazing out the window at the bright moon in the sky.

After a little while, Kurai and Yuki entered. Kurai had fresh bandages on, although they were beginning to get stained with blood.

“Kagekao; what were you thinking!? You could have been killed!” Yuki scolded.

Kage grumbled something and sat up, but didn’t really respond.

“What possessed you to go to the city alone, and on top

Forgotten Past - Part 1 - Chapter 5

Kagekao approached the city. He looked around to make sure there were no humans nearby, and entered it. It felt odd, disobeying his parents like this. He’d never really done it before, but right now he felt like he had to.

He climbed up to the top of a building and looked around for the shinigami. Seeing no one, he continued the search deeper into the city. He saw a few humans, but avoided them. Climbing along the rooftops, he continued his search.

* * *

After a while of searching; he saw someone walking along the sidewalk. They had three large pairs of wings on their back, and a mask and faceplate on. Kage climbed closer silentl

Forgotten Past - Part 1 - Chapter 4

“お父さん. . .” (Dad . . .)

Kagekao knelt by his father, crying. The day had been so happy and fun; and now this. The night was silent, no cars, no people, nothing.

Kage felt something new start to burn inside him; what was that? . . . hate?

Scollex’s body had burned up into sparks and ashes, which drifted away on the wind and disappeared out of sight. Yuki picked up the silver daggers which remained, and then ran over to Kage and Kurai.

“クライ!” (Kurai!) She bent down and started to try and find any sign that he was still alive.

“お母さ

Forgotten Past - Part 1 - Chapter 7

Kagekao opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light of sunset coming through the window. He coughed and lifted his hand to his chest, feeling the bandages wrapped around him that were caked with dry blood.

He tried to sit up, but a sharp jolt of pain came from his back; he groaned.

“Kage, don’t sit up; you have some deep gashes on your back.” A voice from beside him informed.

Kage lied back down and turned his head; Yuki was standing beside his bed.

“Mom, I-” Kage started to speak.

“Kagekao! What were you thinking?!” Yuki interrupted him.

“It’s just that I . . . umm . . . I

The Tournament - Chpt. 1 [Intro]Punta Del Este, Uruguay.
A city and resort on the Atlantic Coast in the Maldonado Department of southeastern Uruguay. Although the city has a year-round population of about 9,280, the summer tourist boom adds to this a very big number of non-residents. One of the most important peninsulas in South America.
The first Europeans to set foot in what is now Punta del Este were the Spanish at the beginning of the 16th century. However, the colonization of the area actually began around Maldonado at the end of the 18th century due to Portuguese expansionism.
On 5 July 1907, it was declared a village by the Act of Law 3.186. Its status was elevated to city on July 2nd 1957 by the Act of Law Nº 12.397.
On 2011 Punta del Este had a population of 9,277 and 23,954 households and apartments. According to the Intendencia Departamnetal de Maldonado, the municipality of Punta del Este has an area of 48 km2 and a population of 15,000.
And what a coastline. Punta del Este has scenic coasts an

The Tournament - Chpt. 2"Los Ciebos, Room 41-7" Read the small paper Nemesis held in her hand, that was the hotel she had been assigned to stay meanwhile in the competition. Only two of the competitors knew how to speak a basic Spanish to talk to the residents if there was anything they might need, which wasn't much, apart from food. They were there to survive.
She looked up at the sign on top of the entrance door, which matched the one on the small reference paper she had been given. Nemesis was carrying a thick suitcase, which contained all the weaponry she was going to need. She scanned the surroundings to make sure there was nobody lingering, who may take a look at her curious-looking mask.
She dag her hand into her pocket and pulled out an accessibility card of the hotel, which she'd use to enter her respective room. She paced silently towards the entrance door and pulled at it to open, the tiny label on the door read "Empuje" (push), but she did not know the meaning of it, so she had to try

Street lights, Chapter 1

Chapter 1, The Masks

Darkness.

Silence.

There was nothing but darkness. The eerie silent added to the paranoia I was feeling at the moment. I don’t know how a got here or why but I knew that there was something else in the darkness with me. I don’t know how I know it’s just a feeling. A feeling of being watched.

A light flickered on and off. Showing me a long, old corridor. Like the ones in an abandoned buildings, but there were no doors only rotting walls and rubble littering the floor. The light seemed oddly comforting in the dark lonely hallway. I slowly walked towards the bright light which blinded me the closer I go

The Unknown World- Chapter 2 Warning: This story contains the following; Alcohol and Drug abuse (later in the story). Some sexual content and Horror. ~And thanks to all of you guys who liked and favorite my story

that made me really happy and so I will write a story you are going to love

~

    As soon a Cry said something about me being up, they all looked in my direction. Scott look even more madder than before. Red walked up to me and crouched down to were I was sitting.
    “Hey are you ok?” She asked. I nodded and looked over to Scott’s direction and moved closer to her. She looked at Scott and than back at me.          “Don’t worry he won’t hurt you… but something’s out here will hurt you so I would suggest getting up, can you walk?” She asked. I nodded and stood up, slowly started walking towards where everyone was standing.
    “Good&

The Unknown World Warning: This story contains the following; Alcohol and Drug abuse (later in the story). Some sexual content and Horror.

   It’s cold and dark… as if I am falling into a dark pool of nothingness. I have tried to call out for someone… anyone but no one seemed to hear me or maybe even not caring to even listen to me. I’m use to people not listening to me but this time is was… different.
   “Where am I? Why can’t anyone hear me?” Than the last question that gave me chills right down to my core, “A…am I dead?”
    Those question keep going in circles in my head, and I don’t know what to do…My eyes watered up and fell into the darkness that was below me.
    Everything was still, as if the world had stood still, like time had stop but the something broke through the darkness, ”He…” than more silence.

Playing With One's Food

I write these words with tears depleting from my bloodshot eyes, by the dim light of the stars and the moon, upon a piece of paper I managed by luck to find. My efforts have been more than human nature would normally allow, yet the results are not as I predicted, favorable. I've not slept in days, and I now hide from what I pray are mere hallucinations brought about my forced insomnia. I never knew how utterly terrifying this journey would become, nor could I have ever predicted it. To whomever finds this note, chances are that it's far too late for you.

He begins with the sleep, and uses that as a means to make you more of the likes o

Street lights, Chapter 2

Chapter 2, Strange

Dirt

Dust

‘’Ach.. Hack! Hack…’’ I coughed. My breath was heavy and long. I pushed my body up from the floor, my lungs where working against me. The room was heavy with stale air and it made my lungs burn for oxygen. There was a small light in the middle of the roof. It was dime but I could still see my hand in front of my face. The light was one that if you turn a dial it will glow brighter or get dimer. I looked around the area I was in, it looked like the hallway I was in but this place was different. The atmosphere was more…painful … you could feel the pain and torture in

Slenderman: Creature of the Night: Part 1It’s dark. I can barely make out the shapes of the bricks on the wall opposite. This room; my cell, is barely a few metres square - a temporary holding cell in which I shall be kept until they decide what to do with me. My head is swimming with thoughts and ideas I have never considered before; maybe I really am insane as they so claim. I have no idea as to how long I have been here; time has no meaning any more.

I hear footsteps outside the cell, and the clicking of the key in the lock. The door swings open and the dank cell is flooded with the bright light of the hallway. Squinting in the bright light, I make out three figures in the

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And You Will Lead Me ToIt has been one thousand eight hundred forty-nine days since the beginning of my sentence began. This is the one hundred eighty-fifth time that I have been placed into extended segregation for the good of the general population following dangerous and uncooperative behavior.

I have been in here for two days four hours, excepting thirty minutes for a shower and sweep of the solitary confinement cell. Three thousand ninety minutes. The room is dark. One hundred eighty-five thousand four hundred seconds, three seconds ago. Time progresses, as it always does; I have been placed here following a confrontation with the prison psychiatrist. They ar

Advanced Science ResearchAdvanced Science Research

I have a problem.
I have surveys to solve the problem.
The problem, though, is that I have surveys
to solve the problem.
One hundred twenty-two surveys
and, so far, none of them have any solutions.
To get my solution, I have to state my problem,
except I can't state my problem in the surveys to solve the problem
because that's biased.
Likewise, I can't wait until I'm done with the surveys to state the problem
because that's biased.
I'm biased against surveys, I think, but that doesn't solve the problem
because I still haven't clearly defined the problem I'm
trying to solve because the surveys aren't ev

Advice to a CaterpillarMy dear, what they told you is true:
everything will be alright, in the end,

but what they didn't tell you
is that the means will be terrible.
The world will be cold when you escape yourself,
and when you
break
the cucoon, when you
break
the skin, when you crawl free? You'll be doomed.

That's the truth of the matter, plain
and simple.

You'll be soft, little crawling thing; you'll be naïve,
and the wings they promised you
will be limp, and wet.
They will not work when you need them most,
clinging horrified to the gnarled edges of the world.
Every breeze will remind you
of what you thought you could do,
of what you must

Re: ModernTo the urns, to mirages that hover close
with talk of Dickenson, and Hughes, and Kerouac –
Be quiet. They cannot hear your loosening screws.
For what would you want the breakup of all wondrous things,
the fractioning of personage?
Be quiet. None are listening, but
for the guttering of a candle flickering,
no audience is audience all the same, having lived at both ends,
unwisely.

The world shrinks, and I am not –
the child of ghosts, of powdered glass reflecting
brightness and green glowing things, immaterial
and sickly. The ozone stink of burning cord,
the tired plague of heavy gold, of lead,
are me. My al

I am The PragmatistI am The Pragmatist, criminal mastermind, nemesis of the League of Crimefighters, supervillain, genius, monster, prisoner. This tale I pen is not for my own benefit. I stand only to lose from telling my story, and I know that I will lose terribly. I am writing this because I am compelled to, and I can only hope with what remains of my faith, and of my sanity, that some good will come of it.

-

I remember the first time that the true nature of my world was revealed to me. I was in prison; I had been apprehended once again by Apex and his league of masked heroes and left to rot in a cell identical to ones I had been in before. Fool that I was,

Reminiscence of a Postmodern CriticOh yeah. Preach it –

We are the children of a thousand racketeers
with wheels strapped to our feet
and wings to our backs
and stars burning the palms of our hands
so that we let go and fall, whooping, back to the ground.
I can't forget the smell
of ozone and bones, like a gasoline fireplace
and the sound they made when they hit the dirt
like birds against windows:
Thump. Thump. Thump.

Political refugees from the stratosphere
we failed our road tests
and had our heels revoked for being too round
even though they were really too flat, like busted tires.
I can't forget the look
on their faces, like a lightbulb burning out
a

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Quiet

by ~Olo-Doorbell, Aug 28, 2011, 7:20:50 PM
Literature / Prose / Fiction / Horror / Introductions & Chapters

Ambition cut off for the night,

she sits and listens to the sounds of crickets trapped in walls.

Quietby ~Olo-Doorbell

Literature / Prose / Fiction / Horror / Introductions & Chapters

Bit o' personal junk here.

~Julybugg Aug 29, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

This is nicely phrased and relatable and just generally great. Really.

~Olo-Doorbell Aug 30, 2011

:3

[link]

~Julybugg Aug 30, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

I FINALLY SAW THIS THE OTHER DAY. Is... is it pathetic at all to say I was genuinely quite intimidated by Dr Seuss? 0_o

~Olo-Doorbell Aug 30, 2011

Nope. I mean, I was terrified of hos creeper expression. >__>

~Julybugg Aug 30, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

Creeper's really the word, isn't it? .___. Btw, this is completely unrelated... but this song is so freakin' lovely. [link]

~Olo-Doorbell Aug 30, 2011

...yes.

~Julybugg Aug 31, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

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