Éatan´s revenge_Left to Burn_A Fly On The Wall_The Gunfight
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Éatan´s revenge
"I will not rest until I avenge my family's honor," vowed young Éatan, his fists clenched in anger. He had lost his parents and younger sister to a brutal attack by a rival clan. His hatred for them had grown with each passing day, and as he stood at their graves, he made a vow to himself - that he would make them pay for the blood they had spilled. Éatan was ten years old when the massacre happened, and he only survived because they thought he was dead as he passed out after a head trauma and almost bled to death. Some of the elderly and woman and children from the village were able to escap...
Left to Burn
My family burns things. I used to be afraid of fire. I used to huddle in the corner of my room when my parents told me it was time to go. I would shriek and grasp at doorknobs as they carried me out, sobbing. I would cover my eyes and cower away from the flames, cling to my sister Jessie’s legs as she watched our mother and father go door to door. Recruit people to join them, or else die. They always burned, in the end. My parents worked for the Emperor. Was he real? I couldn’t have told you. He was from a different planet, supposedly, and had heaps of benefits at his disposal to give to our f...
A Fly On The Wall
www.onedoor.cc A Fly On The WallWhere I come from is dark, dank and no one lives longer than a day. Except for me that is. My name is Roscoe T. Fly. I am a fruit fly, by trade and watching humans is my game. Those whose faces I now find reflected in the shiny red facets of my compound eyes, are far more interesting than most. Perhaps you will watch with me a while? I can’t read human minds, but a fly sees things and learns. I think one of them intends to kill the other.I’m not exactly your common fruit fly. Most can count their life in minutes and get but a single day of life. But when the...
The Gunfight
TW: Gun violenceThe car park was dark and something less than half full and the wind blew strongly through the unprotected concrete. It was icy. The weather was turning. Johnny pulled his coat tighter and kept walking. He could hear sirens, faintly, in the distance, and tried to place exactly where they were. Suddenly, there was an engine roar. Johnny turned to meet the oncoming headlights and lowered his head to cut out the beam, thrusting his hands into his coat. He pulled and levelled his barrettas as the first shots boomed thru the wind towards him. He held himself still, counting ...