LiteratureHideout

I was looking at him, my heart aching, my soul braking, barely holding back the tears from stepping to my eyes. It took almost every drop of my courage and strength to overcome a lump in the throat. -Hey… - my voice was trembling. He was still sleepy, confused why this morning started earlier, confused what got in to me. The morning started as always - the alarm which always painfully told me that we have to separate soon and the awaiting rollercoaster of emotions until I can see him again. The sweet warm hands covered me in a warm hug, soft lips touching my forehead -Morning. – A simple word, my favorite sound – his low, sleepy voice. I could wake up to it every day if it was up to me. I wrapped around him, like each and every time, with the thought that this might be the last time, except, this time it could really be truth. -Morning. – I whispered and pressed my face in his firm but warm and soft chest, hiding my face which could give away that something wasn’t right. I felt his

(A man stands in front of an ATM and slides a red credit card into the machine and puts in his number. The ATM tells him it’s an invalid pin. He groans with frustration and then hears a loud click and feels something hard push against his spine. He turns around and sees a masked mugger standing behind him.) MUGGER: Don’t be scared but I’m about to rob you. GUY: (smirks without looking behind him) I know that gun. Is that a .45 semi-automatic? MUGGER: That’s a very good guess. How did you know? GUY: I could feel it. MUGGER: No. Really? GUY: That’s a bit too much gun. Next time I’d suggest a snub nosed .38. Quicker on the draw. MUGGER: That’s a good suggestion, I’ll remember that. GUY: Is there anything I could do for you? MUGGER: I’d like to have all your money, please. GUY: I’d love to help you, but I can’t remember the pin. MUGGER: Oh. That’s alright. Take your time, we got all night. (MUGGER #1 hears a clicking sound and feels something hard push against his spine. A

Here lies the wounded Wyvern Here she lies where she was slain We shot her out of the sky We shot her and did not ask why For our king wanted a prize Now, she feels no pain

Inside an unknown room, a heart slowly beating. Darkness engulfs the walls except for a single candle flickering in the corner. There's a feeling of dread, but somehow, an aura of mystery surrounds the room. It seems like something important is hidden within its depths. The air is held back, like a complete exhale, while the darkness cloaks the ceiling. The sound of the heart slowly beating echoes through the walls, like a message of mortality. Despite the ominous atmosphere looming within the walls, something deep within holds a hint of hope. It seemed like an escape from the darkness into a secure sanctuary. But for the moment, the heart beats ever louder in the darkness of an unknown room, with a shimmer of light. Barely visible in the distance. Tinnitus was involved. The high-pitched ringing sound began growing louder and louder. And it seemed to be coming from everywhere. It was as if it was coming from the air around the being, echoing and bouncing off the walls. But then it

Previous Chapter Index CHAPTER 4: THE RED-HAIRED HUMAN Clay felt like the whole entire world was spinning upside down. He had no idea what was what anymore. The only thing that he was sure about was that he'd never see 'scavengers' the same way again. Yesterday, if it even was actually yesterday, had been by and far the worst day of his and his friends' lives. No, it wasn't even a contest. Not even close. First, yet another bad 'training session' with Kestrel trying to 'bring that little monster out of [him]'. Then he found out that Glory was supposed to be killed for being 'unworthy', and Tsunami got chained up to a pillar by their so-called 'guardians' (who, aside with Kestrel, also consisted Dune and Webs, and apparently Morrowseer also, and were more of 'jailers' if anything) to prevent her from interfering. Then, to try and prevent this, Clay and his friends hatched a plan to open their cave's other entrance so that they could escape...only to then run into Scarlet

August 22nd, 1920. What a fine time to be born. With one foot in summer and the other in autumn. One foot in the grave and the other in the crib. That perfect time after the great war and the start of the roaring twenties. The prelude to the depression and the second world war. He embodied all the seasons of America. It’s hope and it’s despair. The American winter is still longstanding and we fear we may never know spring or summer again. Our century is still young and we have yet to see the end. There is still time. The flowers have not withered, They have yet to bloom. Hope grows in the shadow of Mars.