Once You Start the Fire_THE DARK NIGHT_Dead Boys Can't Send DMs_Walk-out
Catalog Guide:
Once You Start the Fire
I am a mercenary of words. I do not hunt people but pages.Jyiro repeated his mantra, psyching himself up for what was to come, beckoning the thrill to approach him, as if asking for a challenge. He wasn’t killing people. He would never kill people.The salty air pricked his nose as he sauntered through the sandstone alley, only a block away from the library. In one pocket, he held the matches, and in the other, the words he would use.There were bright green bushes all around him, and he could hear the echoes of the pelicans up above. The city was situated near the sea on one side and the mounta...
THE DARK NIGHT
THE DARK NIGHT I had to wake up abruptly; it was a Tuesday night or was it Wednesday already! I opened my eyes but could see nothing but the darkness. It was so thick I might have caught it and stored it in one of the observation jar we use in the laboratory. It was miserably serene and tense. Then I heard it. A soft icy whisper. At first I could not hear the words at all. All my senses had been paralyzed for a split second and that might have cost my dear life. Well what I mean is that the last time I froze like thawww.onedoor.cct I nearly caught by a stray dog that we had provoked, so everyone run away an...
Dead Boys Can't Send DMs
This is a straightforward decision, Lea thought firmly to herself. Before she could completely cut off her stream of thoughts and take a step forward to finish the task at hand, another voice floated in to her conscious: it would be an easy decision if you did more research before acting so brashly."Augh”, she audibly sighed out loud, a bit louder than she intended – not that her pair of guests were conscious to hear it. That grating voice in the back of her head had finally taken a break from berating her and instead had reinvented itself as a confident cheerleader. But even that voice of con...
Walk-out
"I quit," Derek said as he flopped his head against the headrest."Yeah?" Lance, his partner, retorted. "To do what? Bag groceries? Flip burgers? Ours is a pretty specialized skill set.""I'm just done," Derek sighed. "After twenty-five years, this job really tears into your soul. If you get to keep one."They sat in an old sedan, built before plastic and crumple zones. A hunched figure piled in rags shuffled by them, pushing a scavenged shopping cart down the dark sidewalk."It's true," Lance was in his late twenties, his youthful looks tainted by premature worry lines and a hardness that his go...