Blue 4 Chapter 3Kelly watched as the phantom hovered over the flat area and the Covenant troops all boarded. "Where are they going?" She didn't understand why it was that the Covenant would leave the area. She did know that Sapphire was monitoring their chatter.Blue 4 Chapter 3 in Sci-Fi More Like This
"I've been studying their COMs and they seem to be organizing. They are often making references to something called the 'Didact', but I don't have any context for this term. They seem to claim that their orders are coming from whatever the 'Didact' is." Kelly didn't need to see the AI's avatar to know it was annoyed. Sapphire never liked missing information.
"Spartans, we've got the coordinates for the gravity well. We made contact with Infinity and are going to need a landing zone to evac our wounded and casualties. I'm sending you some assistance to help find us a place big enough." Kelly couldn't help but think there was a bit of excitement to Lasky's voice. She frowned, not understanding why he would be happy about something like th
CortanaJohn moved over to the holotank and hit the controls. "Cortana." His voice was thick with agitation. He stood and waited for the AI to reply.Cortana in Sci-Fi More Like This
The holotank came to life and the familiar purple avatar appeared. "What can I do for you, Chief? You seem like someone put a badger in your pants."
"This is not happening, Cortana. Reschedule the testing that I'm supposed to do next week." John crossed his arms and waited for the AI to reply.
"I can't reschedule it. The testing is happening that day. I don't see what could be so important that you couldn't move it to another day so you can complete your duty." Cortana's avatar frowned at him.
"Then I will not be there for the testing. I will be entering into matrimony with the woman I love." John was finding it harder and harder not to think that Kelly was right. "You have to stop doing this, Cortana."
"I'm not doing anything. I don't schedule the testing or your meetings." Cortana's avatar crossed its arms. "I don't see what the big deal is."
Can we win?Can we win? in Sci-Fi More Like This
Kelly looked to the man sitting on his cot across from her. He'd stopped sharpening his knife several minutes ago and was now just staring at it. She wasn't sure what was wrong with it but he seemed to be examining it, looking for any flaw. Kelly glanced around the room and saw only Grace sitting over with Anton, talking to each other. She opened a private COMM with John, double checking that it was private to be sure no one overheard them. "You know staring at that thing isn't going to make it any sharper." She made her tone light, hoping that she could ease whatever was bothering him with a bit of humor.
John looked up to her, but he didn't say anything. Kelly could feel his gaze, heavy on her, examining her like he had the knife. He slid the blade back into its place in his armor. His hand reached out, gently touching her hand. She looked down at it and then glanced back at Grace and Anton. She was surprised to see John doing something like initiating contact while others were aroun
StoriesThe three Spartans sat in silence. There was an odd feeling in the air between them. The Spartan II fidgeted for a moment. "So, what were you and the Commander fighting about?" Jorge was trying to be casual with the question, but from how Kat had shouted at Carter to leave her alone it wasn't really a casual question.Stories in Sci-Fi More Like This
Kat glared at him, still a bit mad from her argument with Carter. "Just a question he's been asking me since we first became teammates."
Emile chuckled. "I can think of several things I'd ask you to do the first time I saw you." He leaned a bit on the table. "Though considering it's the Commander, I'm guessing you he keeps asking you to marry him."
Kat glared at him. "You seriously need to shut up." She was obviously not in the mood for Emile's teasing. "He's asking the same thing that most of you damn Alpha Company Spartans seem to ask me."
"Oh, So you mean he was asking you about your old teammates again?" Emile relaxed a bit. "When will he learn to let that subject go
RedheadRedhead in Sci-Fi More Like This
"So what do you think?" John looked to Kelly as she moved into the barracks. She ran a hand through her hair which was out of its usual ponytail. Usually John would have found Kelly with her hair down attractive, but this time, he didn't have the familiar desire to run his hands through it.
"Why did you dye your hair?" John scowled as she moved over to the cot beside his and sat down. "And why red?" John let his displeasure leek into his voice.
Kelly frowned, not understanding why he was upset. "I wanted something new. I thought that dying my hair would be the easiest thing that I could do without making any sort of change someone would notice."
"You shouldn't have done it." Kelly's shoulders slumped at John's words. He watched as she grabbed a hair tie and tied it back in as she usually did. "If you wanted to do something different you should have braided it."
"Well I wanted to do something more original then just changing my hair style. Do you really not like it?" Kelly lay back on h
002 Middles002 Middles in Fan Fiction More Like This
Kat sat down on the bench in the locker room. She looked down at her right arm, or what was now her right arm. Metal bits and pieces moved as her robotic fingers flexed. She would have the replacement forever, as a reminder of her failure. She curled the mechanical fingers into a fist and closed her eyes. The image of Thom standing over her, grabbing the device, then jetpacking away flashed through her mind.
She more felt him standing before her rather than heard him. She didn't look up. She was sure that he was as disappointed in her as she was in herself. Sure the plan had been considered a success, but it had carried a great cost with it.
"Kat." His tone didn't carry the scolding tone that she had expected. The single word was soft and held a slight hint of worry.
Kat didn't raise her head, continuing to stare at the floor. "Yes, Commander?" She steeled herself for whatever he may have to say. She waited for his attitude to change, for him to inform her of all the mistakes that she'
Blue 4 Chapter 6The Spartans moved through the maintenance passage, stepping around the dead Covenant. "So what do you want me to explain first?" Kelly asked eyeing a grunt that looked like it was sitting up. It was dead but it was better to be safe than just assume everything had been killed. Grunts were known for being cowards and she wouldn't count out them playing possum.Blue 4 Chapter 6 in Sci-Fi More Like This
"Linda said something about retirement and forcing your way back in. I'd like to know more about that." It didn't surprise Kelly that he had focused on that and it was still at the front of his thought.
"Not particularly good times to remember," Fred spoke up. "After the war ended the truth about the Spartan program came out. Six-year-old kids taken from their homes, made into soldiers, and augmented. It didn't do well with the public and ONI was getting a lot of trouble for it. The people were questioning what secrets there might be about the Spartan IVs."
"In the end the UNSC decided that the best option was for them to pretend
ODSS Chapter 1ODSS Chapter 1 in Sci-Fi More Like This
12 pods slammed into the ground randomly through out the field. The hatches released and 11 marines in regulation ODST armor jumped out. A single soldier in a full set of Mark V armor leapt onto the hard broken street. The soldiers immediately opened fire on the covenant that were near by. The grunts that hasn't been killed by the initial impact were cut down by the hail of bullets. The area fell into silence as the gunfire stopped. The soldiers shouldered their assault rifles and grabbed a second SMG before gathering in the lobby of a near by hotel. The once elegant interior of the building was ruined. Burnt and destroyed armchairs were scattered about and the hotel check in desk was covered with plasma burns. The soldier in Mark IV armor moved across the street stopping at the corner. The soldier checked around the corner and then motioned the others forward. The marines moved up the side of the building. The Mark IV armored soldier took point as they rounded the
Blue 4 Chapter 5The rear of the pelican opened as it neared the ground. The Spartans all stood at the ready, weapons in hand. As soon as it was low enough they moved forward as one unit. No orders, no words, just gunfire as they cleared out a group of grunts and jackals that were attacking the Spartan IVs near the landing zone. They were easy and Kelly enjoyed Blue Team working together like the old days. It only took the four Spartans a few seconds to clear out the enemies.Blue 4 Chapter 5 in Sci-Fi More Like This
Kelly looked over the area, nodding to the Spartan IVs who all seemed to stare at John. She couldn't blame him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his odd armor. Kelly spotted a tank and looked around for the other things he needed. She grinned as she found it. "Who's up for a little Rabbit-hog?"
"I call gunning," Linda moved toward the Warthog's turret. Kelly watched as Fred moved toward the tank as well to take the turret position.
"You'll have to tell me what a Rabbit-hog is," John pointed out. "You keep using all these terms an
XmasXmas in Sci-Fi More Like This
A heavy weight slammed onto John and he sat bolt upright. He looked over to see that it was Franklin. The German shepherd sat on the bed, panting happily. John's attention turned to the foot of his bed and spotted Sam and Avery. The two boys were grinning happily. John didn't understand why they were so happy until it clicked. Sam was wearing pajamas with snowflakes on them while Avery had on a shirt that had a large picture of a Santa grunt on the front and red pajama pants.
"Merry Christmas, Dad." Sam grinned and patted Franklin on his back. The dog obediently got down from the bed. "Now you need to get up."
Avery moved to the side of the bed, shaking Kelly a bit to try to wake her. John stopped him and smiled at his son. "I'll wake your mother. Why don't you two go wake up your siblings and then you can all gather downstairs and we'll open presents."
The two boys grinned and moved out of the bedroom. As soon as the dog was through they closed the door behind them. John was thankful
.just try not to. in Free Verse More Like This
that memory, that one
wolf that calls
for the rest
of the pack;
you'll spend all
with them inside
.pour love all. in Free Verse More Like This
over, then strike
the fire will
burn itself out,
but the ruins
.and like a stone at. in Free Verse More Like This
the bottom of the river
or the sea,
i think life might just be
flowing right past me
.some people are dead. in Free Verse More Like This
long before they die -
there's just no burial
for the spirit
A Robins Christmas Carol"Come on, Damian, it will be fun!" said Sam Kane. He was dressed in Victorian costume as a boy of the lower middle class, his blond hair covered with a cap, a mock crutch twirling in his hand (a trick he learned from Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing), and his blue eyes sparkled with Christmas spirit. He and Damian were looking out the window of Wayne Manor's living room at the snow. The room, and the entire mansion, had been decked out for Christmas.A Robins Christmas Carol in Short Stories More Like This
Damian Wayne's blue eyes were as cold as ice. "So? I'm not going to help the poor! It's their fault they are poor!"
"No it's not! You refuse to look at the...."
"Sam, stop trying to quote your brother. And take that costume off! Who are you supposed to be, Tiny Tim?"
"Actually yes; it's my role for the Wayne Foundation Charity Christmas Faire! And I earned it the hard way; auditioning for your dad and Lucius Fox."
Joseph Kane/Ronin Young Justice VersionJoseph Kane/Ronin Young Justice Version in Sketches More Like This
Secret ID: Dr. Joseph Kane
Superhero Alias: Ronin
Group Affiliation: Young Justice (after introductory arc)
Nicknames: Joey (only called that by his little brother), Crazy Genius (by Nightwing, Joseph usually retorts with "Circus Boy")
Hair: Sandy Blond, usually kept short
Physical Description: Lean but Muscular
General Personality: Cheerful and outgoing, but a bit (understatement) of an smartass. Can be over confidant. Also can be a little nutty and hyper depending on the situation (what Sam calls "Joey's Doctor Who moments")
Good Traits: Loyal to his friends and family, never gives up, always willing to help, kind hearted, compassionate, creative, always willing to learn new things
Bad Traits: Stubborn, sometimes arrogant and acts like he's the smartest person in the room (which he usually is, but I digress), while he likes to help people he is slow to accept help from others, sometimes has t
Batman/Green Arrow: Crossfire Chapter 2"I don't like you."Batman/Green Arrow: Crossfire Chapter 2 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Ollie looked up at Sam Kane glaring at him across the kitchen table.
"Look kid, I know I gave your brother a hard time...."
"When did I..."
"5 years ago, you destroyed the teddy bear Joey gave me...of course, not too long after that you were marooned...." Sam grinned evilly.
"Look, I want to end this feud and make sure your brother doesn't die. Can you live with that?"
"Sure." Sam grabbed his cereal bowl and headed to the living room. He turned back to face Ollie, "Doesn't mean I like you."
Oliver just stared as the little boy left. He sighed, he knew that the Kanes wouldn't like his presence, but he thought Joseph would have matured out of it. Yeah right, when I was his age I flopped out of every job my dad gave me, held a party on an oil rig that got attacked by pirates, accidentally killed a bunch of people, and got washed up on an island....
"Deep in thought, Ollie?" said Bruce as he sat down in his suit for work. He had already worked out and h
Nightwing/Robin: Boys' Day OutSam is sitting in his room, sighing. He pets Barkley while doing his homework.Nightwing/Robin: Boys' Day Out in Short Stories More Like This
Sam: *sigh* Wish Joey didn't have to go to Central City to show their police how the new WayneTech forensic lab equipment.
Sam: I know, I know Bruce also sent him to work with the Flash again....
Alfred: (off panel) Man has poor eating etiquette
Sam turns to see Alfred
Sam: Oh, hey Alfred. Just doing the homework you gave me.
Alfred: Indeed, you made a calculative error on question three
Sam: Huh? *looks* OH! *corrects it* Is it dinner yet? Or is something going on?
Alfred: Everything is in order, nothing to worry about
Sam: Is that all?
Alfred: Is something the matter, lad?
Sam: With Joey out of town...I feel like I'm a fifth wheel or something....
Alfred: Well you are a young boy sir
Sam: I can't stand it. Everyone else has something to do...and I don't.
Alfred: I'm assuming you're talking about something more exciting than math?
Alfred: Did Master Damian "train" you today?
Pray for KenyaKenya is a country in East Africa.Pray for Kenya in Profiles More Like This
It is bordered by Ethiopia to the north , Somalia in the north-east,
South Sudan in the north-west, Uganda to the west, Tanzania in the south
and the Indian Ocean in the south-east.
Nairobi is the capital.
The population is nearly 41 million.
English and Swahili are the official languages.
The country is named after Mount Kenya, Africa's second highest mountain.
Kenya is known for its great environmental diversity.
It has tropics, savannahs, mountains, valleys, temperate forests arid
and desert regions.
Lake Victoria, the world's second largest fresh-water lake, is located
in Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania.
The Great Rift Valley runs through Kenya
The Serengeti region runs through northern Tanzania and south western Kenya.
Kenya has the most diverse collection of wild animals in Africa
and is famous for its safaris and wildlife reserves.
The word 'Safari' is Swahili for 'journey.'
The word 'Swahili' means 'Coast Dwellers.'
Kenya has over 120 differ
Pray for the Czech RepublicThe Czech Republic is a landlocked country in Central-Eastern Europe.Pray for the Czech Republic in Profiles More Like This
It is bordered by Poland in the north, Germany in the west, Austria in the south
and Slovakia in the east.
Its capital and largest city is Prague.
The population is over 10 million.
The Czech Republic was originally part of Czechoslovakia.
The country has two main regions:
Bohemia in the west
Moravia in the east
Silesia in the northeast
The city of Prague is famous for its castles and palaces.
The famous reformer Jan Hus (c. 13691415) was from Bohemia.
The Czech Republic is famous for its beer.
Budweiser' was originally a Czech beer, until an American brewer borrowed the name
Jaromír Jágr(b 1972) Ice hockey right winger
Barbora Špotáková (b 1981) Javelin thrower. World record holder
Emil Zátopek (1922-2000)Long-distance runner, three gold medals at 1952 Olympics
Jan Železný (b 1966) Javelin thrower, world, World record holder.
Pray for MongoliaMongolia is a landlocked country in Eastern and Central Asia.Pray for Mongolia in Profiles More Like This
It is bordered by Russia ino the north and China to the south, east and west.
Ulan Bator is the capital and largest city
The population is over 2 million
The Gobi Desert covers southern Mongolia.
One of Mongolia's most famous leaders was Genghis Khan (1162-1227)
The explorer Marco Polo (1254-1324) visited Mongolia.
The popular pet Gerbil originates in the desert regions of Mongolia.
Its Latin name, Meriones unguiculatus, means "Clawed warrior"
Pray for CanadaCanada is located in the northern part of the North American continentPray for Canada in Profiles More Like This
It borders the United States in the south and extends from the Atlantic Ocean
in the east to the Pacific Ocean in the west, and northward into the Arctic Ocean.
Ottawa is the capital and the nation's 4th largest city.
The population is over 33 million
The name 'Canada' comes from the Iroquoian word 'Kanata', which means 'Village' or 'Settlement'.
Canada is the world's second-largest country by total area.
Canada's common border with the United States is the world's longest land border.
Canada's largest cities are:
15.8 % French
Pray for AnguillaAnguilla is a British overseas territory in the Caribbean.Pray for Anguilla in Profiles More Like This
It is east of Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands and directly north of Saint Martin.
There is one main island, Anguilla, and many smaller islands and cays.
The Valley is the capital.
The population is approximately 13,500
The name Anguilla comes from the word for "Eel" in various languages.
It was probably chosen because of the island's eel-like shape.
Anguilla was part of the British West Indies.
Pray for the United States Virgin IslandsThe United States Virgin Islands are a group of 53 volcanic islands in the Caribbean.Pray for the United States Virgin Islands in Profiles More Like This
Their closest neighbors are Puerto Rico in the west and the British Virgin Islands
in the east.
There are four main islands:
Charlotte Amalie is the capital.
The population is 109,750.
The U.S. Virgin Islands are one of the five U.S. territories:
Northern Mariana Islands
U.S. Virgin Islands
The Virgin Islands were originally inhabited by the Ciboney, Carib, and Taino.
The islands discovered by Christopher Columbus on his second voyage in 1493.
He named them in honor of Saint Ursula and her virgin followers.
Over the next two hundred years, the islands were held by many European powers,
including Spain, the Britain, the Netherlands, France, and Denmark-Norway.
The native populations were
Pray for Saint MartinSaint Martin is an island in the northeast Caribbean.Pray for Saint Martin in Profiles More Like This
It is east of Puerto Rico and south of Anguilla.
Neighboring islands are Saint Barthélemy, Saba, Sint Eustatius,
Saint Kitts and Nevis.
The island is divided between France in the north and Holland in the south.
The Dutch side has the larger population.
The northern French side is called the Collectivity of St. Martin
The capital is Marigot
The population is 35,925
The southern Dutch side is called Sint Maarten.
The capital is Philipsburg.
The population is 38,927
Saint Martin was part of the French West Indies.
Sint Maarten was part of the Dutch West Indies.
The island's population is made up of people from some 70 different countries.
Mestizo (French-East Asia)
2% Other (Jewish, Hindu)
The earliest inhabitants were the Ciboney from South America.
The Taino settled t
Pray for the Cayman IslandsThe Cayman Islands are three islands in the western Caribbean Sea.Pray for the Cayman Islands in Profiles More Like This
They are located south of Cuba and northwest of Jamaica
There are three islands:
George Town is the capital.
The population is over 54,000.
Sir Francis Drake visited the islands in 1586.
He named the islands Cayman after Caiman, a Neo-Taino word for "Alligator".
The islands were part of the British East Indies.
The islands are still a British overseas Territory.
Pray for the Central African RepublicThe Central African Republic is a landlocked country in Central Africa.Pray for the Central African Republic in Profiles More Like This
It is bordered by Chad in the north, Sudan in the northeast, South Sudan in the east,
Congo and the Democratic Republic of the Congo in the south, and Cameroon in the west.
Bangui is the capital.
The population is 4.4 million
Most of the territory is located in the Ubangi and Shari River basins.
Most of the country is savannah but it also includes tropical forests in the south
and a semi- desert in the north east.
Two thirds of the country lies in the basins of the Ubangi River,which flows
south into the Congo River.
The remaining third lies in the basin of the Chari River, which flows north
into Lake Chad.
The country has over 80 ethnic groups, each with its own language.
Pray for KazakhstanKazakhstan is a landlocked country in Central Asia and Eastern Europe.Pray for Kazakhstan in Profiles More Like This
It is neighbored by Russia, China, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan
Although Kazakhstan does not share a border with Mongolia, it's most easterly
point is only 24 miles from Mongolia's western tip.
The population is 16.6 million people
The capital is Astana.
Kazakhstan is one of the Turkic states.
Kazakhstan is the 9th biggest country in the world.
There are over 131 different ethnic groups.
Kazakhstan was the last member of the U.S.S.R to become independent
Marked SoulsONEMarked Souls in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Not wanting to breathe anymore, I sat down, in front of the wall, staring blankly at it's white surface. Noises were rushing by and mixing into on annoying hum in tired ears.
I could make out laughter, but it made sick, so I blocked it out with the rest of the world.
I just wasn't able to go on any longer, my head was heavy and pressing down. The pressure inside tempting me to hit my head until it split open, so all the ghosts and pain could escape.
But I wasn't allowed. They said they cared. Maybe they were real....
A sharp pain seared through my body and I began to shiver, thoughts of hate made my eyes burn and my fingertips tingle with the need to destroy.
But the memory of punishment kept me from freeing the violence that was building in me.
My body ached, I wasn't able to breathe, everything blurred. I wailed and grasped my head with my shaking heads, pulling my knees to my chin I began rocking forth and back to sooth my wrecked body and feelings. I wanted to scream but my voi
Safe InsomniaI need to sleepSafe Insomnia in Free Verse More Like This
I know so well...
I need to rest
Or I'll collapse
My mind, such a frail thing
It's a messy blur of everything
Showing me pictures
I know are made up
But I can't keep it from slipping up
All they say just floats past
I'm on drugs my body provides
Aching for sleep....
Sweet dreams and rest
But I feel like it's just a test
Like none of anything is real at all
I just imagine words to be spoken
And dreams to catch me before I fall
However, I laugh at this tragedy
And cry at all the happy times
I will go insane if I don't search my mind
But I lost it long ago in promises and lost time
Safely high on insomnia
Nothing will ever get me out of myself
I'll keep my secrets 'till it ends
Your Own SlaveBreach the outer, gloomy sadnessYour Own Slave in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Discover undiscovered seas of madness
Into, onward, into the unknown
Scars that are never shown
Stories she and he will never tell
From a time they bruised and fell
Freedom is a foreign word
Like a crippled, broken bird
Cannot simply break away
If you are bound to stay
A prisoner of your very own
When your body isn't home
Once you yourself become a stranger
There's no hiding from the danger
And fear will haunt you down tonight
The question is, will you run or fight?
Though if you choose to fight yourself
It's a bitter conclusion for your health
Cuts and open wounds will grace
Your tender arms, legs, back and face
To My PeersCan't you see, you could be so much more?To My Peers in Concrete Poetry More Like This
If only you would be strong enough to ignore,
These lables and lies,
That you actually despise!
But you follow the river wherever it flows.
Follow these trends that come and go!
And discriminate people like me,
Who aren't the way you'd like us to be.
Even though we're all the same!
I'm the black sheep, the one to blame.
But I know that I'm not a mistake,
And that you, my beautiful, are simply fake.
You are too insecure to speak your actual mind,
Wearing a mask everyday, but I can see behind.
And inside, I know how ugly and twisted you are,
I can see all the pain, every single scar.
Letters To A Stranger - Three - RamblingDear Stranger,Letters To A Stranger - Three - Rambling in Letters More Like This
I just wish this life would be less complicated, so I wouldn't go to bed with this restless twist in the pit of my stomach.
So I wouldn't be this restless...
I wish these warnings wouldn't be, could you imagine how easy life would be? Okay, people would die, but people die anyways, everyday, and there are too many people on this earth, if you ask me.
But how does my opinion count? It doesn't, you may disagree, but I know better.
I'm just a kid, a pretty lost one, this life offers too many chances, it's impossible to not to miss any. It's like we're meant to feel guilty for being alive.
I sometimes hate having all these choices. You say I should value them, but having nothing to fight for can become tiresome too, you know?
I guess you'll shut me up with your great life experience soon.
This letter I write to you is more personal than all the hate I threw at you the last times, your anonymity allows me to use you as a shoulder to cry on too.
What you don't understand is, n
ConfusionI must write poem after damned poem!Confusion in Free Verse More Like This
Just because I can't deal with this...
All the things that happened these days
Left me hurt and damageable...
I can't decide how to feel
What emotion is is mine
Or just some believable lie
I don't know if I wish to hate
Or rather choose solace
I don't know if I still feel frustrated
Or if I already let go of all the memories
You bother me, of course you still do
But you are not the only one
So many wish to see me suffer
And you are just sticking out in some degree
One of many, this satisfies me a bit
And the strong sense of déjà vu
This let's me know that I what I can do
I think not yet, but soon will be
The perfect time to change
So I can just destroy you some more
Without getting hurt myself
TravellerMy life's a journeyTraveller in Free Verse More Like This
Travelling one of many passions
I long to see the world
With my eyes wide open
To tell my own stories and legends
To astonish with my experiences
To gain knoledge
To gain power by learning
To become a part of a strangers land
And to be a stranger once again
To collect inspiration and memories
And find unrelated members of my family
I crave to learn all these languages
Though they'll never be my mothertounge
They'll forever stay a part of me
And change my point of view
I long to explore everything
And to express myself
And I want to feel the sun on my face
The rain soaking my clothes and skin
Growing inside 'till I'm a giant!
I beg to be overwhelmed by all these impressions
And fall into bed exhausted
I want to touch unfamilar ground
Walk upon unknown streets
Will you come with me?
FairytaleOh if it would be trueFairytale in Concrete Poetry More Like This
Would I say I love you?
If I could let go...
Would the scars still show?
When the letters would make sense,
And built into solid words,
Would I then take my chance,
And fly in the mass of birds?
Could I keep the colours from bleeding in,
When I wipe the blood from my chin?
The lifeless body would lay still,
Counting the days to the next kill.
Would the bombs lie to rest?
The weight be lightened on my chest?
When I close my eyes in silence,
Asking for God to stop the violence...
Then we might embrace the sun,
Our feet aching form the run,
And melt in each others arms,
Blending out a thousand alarms...
Could we be then be safe in heaven,
In fairy tales we'd count till seven,
Smoke and fire mixing with steam,
The pain banished by joyful gleam...
We'd be free to smile for real,
To savor every moment we feel,
I'd wish to spend these moments with you,
The only person who won't have a clue
How much I need you by my side,
I can't resist the urge to hide,
But honey, I thi
In MemorySo final, you're dead, but I can't let it goIn Memory in Free Verse More Like This
Memories of speaking to you
You'll never be gone forever
Not to me
I never had the chance to say
Good bye and sorry for all the hate
I sometimes spit at you
There was no reason, you just dropped dead
On the spot, with so much life ahead
When I was little, we'd take naps
Next to each other
You'd rock me to sleep
You'd play with me
And steal my toys
You were- well, was, my Grandpa
And I know you for the time I have lived
You were such a hateful, rough man
But I never forgot the soft side of you
A little mad, violent and sad
You're life was so long, so full of energy
You've seen the world
Had so much to tell
Been through heaven right into hell
Found the one love, lost her again
Had to deal with maddening pain
But never gave up
And made me go on
Forced me to push my limits
I never took the time to say thank you
I never had the time show my respect
All I do now I holding back tears
Hoping that, where ever you are now-
You might read this and know
Chris Nolan on Heath Ledger - Charisma as Natural as Gravity - By Christopher Nolan -Chris Nolan on Heath Ledger in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
One night, as I’m standing on LaSalle Street in Chicago, trying to line up a shot for “The Dark Knight,” a production assistant skateboards into my line of sight. Silently, I curse the moment that Heath first skated onto our set in full character makeup. I’d fretted about the reaction of Batman fans to a skateboarding Joker, but the actual result was a proliferation of skateboards among the younger crew members. If you’d asked those kids why they had chosen to bring their boards to work, they would have answered honestly that they didn’t know. That’s real charisma—as invisible and natural as gravity. That’s what Heath had.
Heath was bursting with creativity. It was in his every gesture. He once told me that he liked to wait between jobs until he was creatively hungry. Until he needed it again. He brought that attitude to our set every day. The
Joker's Journal 6#36Joker's Journal 6 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I haven’t heard anyone call me by my real name in a long time. The flash of fear and confusion at hearing it yelled out across the entire shelter was quickly replaced by the recognition of her voice, and the comfort that she was the only one left who knew me by that name. I sent Mouse to find and bring back Harley, sending my pocket watch with her as proof of my presence.
Mouse is my mouse. Well, she’s a kid. But she’s my mouse. I found her around here recently after I’d escaped the cops’ surprise ambush. I walked in the shelter, buried under some foul scraps of clothes, and noticed her following me at a distance. Once I’d settled down and obtained a spot in the corner of the top floor, she settled in right beside me without a word.
I tried to scare her off by revealing my unmistakable attire and face paint, but her pants remained dry. She doesn’t know who the hell I am. She’s never seen me before. Has absolutely no clue who I am! The
Big Mistake - Page 5She knew that laugh!!! She whirled around to look at him. He laughed so hard he cried! The doctor pulled off his paper mask, revealing his smiling scars.Big Mistake - Page 5 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Damn Harl, you are one pathetic human being!" He laughed and ran a hand through his blonde hair. His voice was back to it's normal unique self.
"Joker?" She grinned, embarrassed and delighted. "How did you...!?"
He cleared his throat and smiled at her from the chair. If Harley didn't hate her restraints before, she sure hated them now!
"Joker, I'm so sorry, please" She started.
"Jesus, Harl, do you think I'm deaf? I know you're sorry, alright?" He rolled his eyes. She lowered her gaze submissively.
After looking at her for a little longer, he stood up. "Besides, that was almost a week ago. Let it go already."
"So you forgive me ?" She whispered, slightly confused.
"Now, I didn't say that." He shook his head and gave her that disappointed look. He suddenly sat down on the bed next to her and held her hand.
Big Mistake - Page 1"What do you mean they're GONE?!?!?!" Joker yelled as Harley fell against the wall. Her cheek was red and stinging from the hard smack he just gave her.Big Mistake - Page 1 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"B-Batman came a-and--" She stammered, trying to stand up.
"We needed those explosives, Harl!!!! What the hell happened to them?!?" He grabbed her torn shirt and yanked her up.
"Batty dumped 'em in the ocean! Th-they're gone!" She trembled and pleaded with her tear soaked eyes.
"Oh really? Just, hello, I'm gonna ruin everything now, alrrrighty have a nice day!!!" Joker thrust her into the cement wall, banging her head hard against it. "Did you even TRY to stop him?!?!"
"Of course!" She desperately wished he would calm down. Her head was throbbing immensely.
"And what about the henchmen? Huh? Are they in JAIL!?!?" Joker dug his fingers into her shoulders tightly. She winced in pain, but didn't try to push him away. "They're gonna tell them everything, Harley! Everything!!!"
She let out a short scream as he punched her in the stomach. Sh
Joker's Journal - 1She's nuts. I hate her.Joker's Journal - 1 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometimes.Never mind. Always. I was stupid to let a psychologist attach onto me. As if I didn't get enough pointless therapy in Arkham! I had to bring a doctor outside as my own personal advisor. Idiotic.
What is this? Its a journal. Me scribbling my "thoughts" on a paper. She's making me do it. She's watching me right now. I ask her what the hell to write, and she suggests writing my current actions. That's what I'm doing.
Now I'm out of things to write. But you know what's funny? I can't write that I'm staring at a blank piece of paper, because that would be lying. I can however, write "Fifteen minutes ago I was staring at a blank piece of paper."
I know how to annoy her.
I am writing. I am writing. I am writing. I am writing. I am wr
She says that doesn't count. Now I have to sit here for another hour. Nothing is stopping me from leaving. Her glares don't intimidate me.
Hell with this.
She made me write that
Joker's Journal 4#26Joker's Journal 4 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Bruce's bodyguards really beat her up. The bruises appeared today. Looks like something I did. It pisses me off.
She's still ashamed of failing or whatever. No matter how many times I tell her it was no big deal, she still cries. It annoys the hell out of me.
So now I'm in a bad mood. My girl is sore and practically crippled, I have to hear her blubbering apologies every minute, and these damned geckos won't stop dropping feces in my sock drawer. They must be executed immediately. Every single one of the bastards.
I cleared out the bedroom on my own, eventually tying Harley to the bed after getting irritated at her many feeble attempts to help. I ordered her to rest and then I worked on the rest of the joint, asking the henchmen helpers not to blow too many holes in the wall. Most of the holes ended up being blown by me.
No more geckos. Peace at last.
Harley's had her one day of rest. She didn't take full advantage of it, but thats her own fault. Now she's back to h
Big Mistake - Page 2Joker ran his gloved hands through his hair as he stood up. He calmed himself down and stretched his arms, trying to release some stress.Big Mistake - Page 2 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He gave a last disappointed look at her, laying unconscious and bruised on the floor. "...big mistake..." He muttered and straightened his coat.
"It wasn't her fault your plan failed, Joker."
Batman. Great. Joker didn't bother to look around for him. He was hiding in the shadows somewhere.
"It was mine."
Joker bit his lip in annoyance. "Yeah, but unfortunatelyyyy, you're not my personal punching bag."
That made Batman mad. He always had a soft spot for Harl. Joker was knocked to the ground by Batman's swinging kick from above.
He laughed as Batman yanked him up and growled in his face. "Punching bags BREAK if you don't take care of them!"
"Oh, I know that, Bats, I know that." Joker grinned, still laughing. Batman twisted his arm behind his back, which only made him laugh louder. "Do-dontcha think its funny how you pop in here AFTER I knock her out? H
She learned to Rise...A hardened man, a sickened beast,She learned to Rise... in Free Verse More Like This
His anger and rage threatened to never cease.
In the prison of Hell, looking up at the sky,
His only soft feelings of hope began to die.
His soul rotted for years.
The inhumanity dried up any remaining tears.
A baby's cries erupted one night.
The sound was foreign and inspiring, as was the sight.
The broken man, his heart so charred,
Watched the baby grow up, his expression hard.
Hatred manifested for the mother, who brought the girl into this hell.
Didn't she know how many prisoners had tried to escape and fell?
How cruel was that mother, to bring that girl straight into death.
She'd never feel warmth and happiness on her breath.
Especially not after her mother was taken and killed.
In the commotion of the screaming struggle, the broken man's arms were filled.
He held the girl close and dashed away,
"I will protect you." She heard him say.
The guards weren't concerned with the abandoned five year old.
They had done what they'd been told.
Big Mistake - Page 4The days passed, Harley felt like today was her last in this hospital. Then she would go to Arkham. She was slightly glad; staring at these same walls was getting boring. But once she got to Arkham, the only thing she would see would be her bare empty cell and the room where her therapy sessions would be.Big Mistake - Page 4 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She always hated how the cells were so empty. Nothing at all was in them, rarely a flimsy bed and the tightly locked door. She had counted every tile on the floor, wall, and ceiling. 87 tiles on the floor, 142 on all four walls, and 75 on the ceiling. Every cell was built the same, every cell and those numbers.
She had played checkers in her mind when she stared at the ceiling, and won herself so many times. All day, they left you bored to death in those damn cells. Most of the patients went insane just being in there!
Twice a week you went to your therapy sessions. Well, that depended on the patient. Harley went there twice a week. Joker usually went only once now. Harley groaned as
Joker's Journal - 3#17Joker's Journal - 3 in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Harley gets shit done when she's motivated. She finished every task on the checklist within a day. Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without her.
Timmy is out of the picture. Well... most of him anyway. We have an air mattress. Three, in fact. And I really didn't think Harley was going to be able to get rid of the cockroaches. She did. Sorta.
You know what she did? She went to a pet store and bought a bunch of little lizards called geckos. They eat the cockroaches as if they're potato chips. Pretty ingenious idea, actually. She learns from the best. The henchmen hate them. It's become a nightly prank for us to put the little lizards in the weapon boxes to scare the henchmen when they go to get their guns the next morning. And the funny thing is: They can't shoot the geckos because the weapons are under them. Haha!
But now we have a lizard infestation instead of a cockroach infestation. So, some of them have to die. I've learned that lizards are funner to dissect than insects. Duh,
Becoming Fear: PrologueHe walks slowly through the cornfield, the sun warm on his skin as he brushes against the tall stalks, the leaves stroking his face as if caressing him. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the earth; the dirt, the grass, the pure air.Becoming Fear: Prologue in Fan Fiction More Like This
He closes his eyes as a soft breeze blows through his hair; the wind weaves through the cornstalks, creating a rhythmic, soothing sound.
Everything is peaceful, quiet, serene. Everything is calm.
A wave of heat washes over his body and he slowly opens his eyes.
The cornfield is in flames. Fire smothers the lush stalks, lapping at the blue sky, crackling as the plants burn and blacken.
He stands still, his feet rooted to the ground by fear as his eyes widen, taking in the destruction and decay of the cornfield. Smoke rises from the carnage and he begins to cough as it fills his lungs, robbing him of his breath.
He wants to run. He wants to escape the field, to run as far as his legs will take him, to take a deep breath and sooth his screaming
The Crooked ManGranny Keeny had been a cruel woman, frail in body and hard in heart. Her temper was volatile and explosive, and Jonathan Crane had learned early in life that her anger was something to be avoided at all costs. The best way to do that was to remain out of her sight as much as possible, and so he spent his time outside of school hiding out in his room inside of Keeny Mansion, hunched over a book. He was content enough with this arrangement, accompanied by the likes of Poe, Kipling, and Shelley. His past time had to be kept secret, of course—Granny Keeny did not approve of such unholy vices as fiction and creative writing.The Crooked Man in Horror More Like This
The exemption to this rule was nursery tales. Crane suspected that this was because so many stories featured misbehaving individuals gaining their comeuppance, often in a rather unpleasant manner. From the ages of two to ten, Granny Keeny would perform a nightly ritual of reading to Crane a story from a large, leather-bound book titled Nursery Tales.
ChemistryJonathan Crane clenched his jaw as a thick, serpentine vine slithered across the back of his hand. Its leaves rustled against his skin, leaving behind a scratching sensation that he found both unpleasant and repulsive, and he suppressed a shudder of disgust as he swatted the vine away. It recoiled from him as if it were stung by the action, and Crane could feel Poison Ivy's eyes boring into him from across the laboratory.Chemistry in General Fiction More Like This
"Don't you dare hurt my babies, Jonathan," she warned. "I'll only play nice if you do."
"I beg your pardon, Miss Isley," Crane replied through gritted teeth, "but I would hardly consider your vegetation contaminating my work area to be playing nice."
The offending vine encircled itself around Ivy's green wrist, traveling up her arm with fluid grace before settling across her shoulders. Cradling its head in her hand, Crane watched with morbid fascination as Ivy leaned down and planted a gentle, motherly kiss onto the stem; the vine seemed to flouri
Christmas TimeDr. Jonathan Crane sits at his desk, his fingertips massaging his temples, his eyes closed.Christmas Time in Fan Fiction More Like This
Tonight is the Arkham Asylum staff's annual Christmas party-the one night of the year there is any joy in the institution-as the staff gather to celebrate the holiday spirit and the sounds of carols and laughter drown out the moans and screams of the patients. The interns decorate the faculty room, hanging up cheap lights and paper mache ornaments in an attempt to mask the grim atmosphere, and draw straws to determine which unlucky soul will don the Santa suit. Refreshments are served, including the typical cookies and eggnog, and everyone has a good time, most of them drinking too much to help them forget that despite the laughter and celebration, they are still in Arkham.
But not Crane.
He'd made a brief appearance, hiding out in a corner and shaking a few hands when necessary, before slipping out the door and walking down the hallway to the shelter and seclusion of his office. He finds any in
Group Therapy"Alright everybody, quiet, please—quiet—now, let's begin..."Group Therapy in General Fiction More Like This
Group therapy at Arkham Asylum was by no means a simple, uneventful affair. The hour-long sessions required no less than ten guards, each one equipped with an electric baton and a canister of mace, and covered head to toe in riot gear. No sharp objects were allowed in the room—no pencils, no pens. Crayons had previously been approved for use in art therapy, but after Joker drove a waxy stick of Tickle Me Pink into a therapist's eye the privilege had been revoked.
Finger-painting had been the next logical step and had lasted for precisely two sessions before Joker—who else—began to paint obscene drawings of Batman onto the walls with his fingertips, depicting the Dark Knight's demise in a variety of imaginative and colorful ways. The therapist at the time had encouraged this behavior, assuring the guards that the act was not one of defiance, but of expression and an eagerness to work thro
HolidaysDr. Jonathan Crane has never been one to indulge in holiday festivities; to him, Thanksgiving merely meant spending an hour or two at the Arkham Asylum staff's annual, mind-numbingly boring potluck dinner and sitting in the inevitable, painfully slow crawl of Gotham traffic before arriving at his apartment to spend his four-day-weekend with his nose buried in his research. Every year, his contribution to the dinner is the same: a pie purchased from the frozen foods section of the grocery store next to his apartment building, selected quickly and tossed into his shopping cart with little thought or care. If any of his coworkers have ever noticed that the desert is store-bought rather than homemade, they are too polite to say anything.Holidays in Horror More Like This
But this year will be different.
Granny Keeny had possessed a penchant for baking, a trait which she had not passed down onto her grandson. She collected recipes that had been in the Keeny family for generations, filling a now yellow-paged notebook with he
AscensionGotham moonlight fills Dr. Jonathan Crane's small bedroom as he lies in bed, his fully-clothed body still, save for the small movements of his chest as it rises and falls in rhythm with his breathing. His eyes are closed, but he is not asleep; he is thinking, contemplative, his mind a succession of thoughts aching to be recognizedeach idea yearns to be studied and analyzed, craving to be put into motion.Ascension in Horror More Like This
There is one thought, one idea in particular, that refuses to be ignored, continuously gnawing at his brain with impatience; he knows that it will not go away until he has dutifully performed the necessary task. The thought crushes him with its overwhelming need for materialization, a constant weight on his shoulders and his mind. Every waking moment is dedicated to this thought; it was not long before it began to seep into his dreams as well, infecting his sleep with torment and demands.
The thought scares him. He has not underestimated its finality; once it has been carried o
Becoming Fear: Chapter ThreeDisclaimer: I do not own the rights "Batman" or any of its characters, including Scarecrow, nor do I own any rights to the comics or the films. I own nothing!Becoming Fear: Chapter Three in Horror More Like This
Crane blinks rapidly as he walks down the hallways of Arkham Asylum, his mind and body exhausted from last night's ordeal. He had not been able to fall asleep again, instead laying in the darkness of his bedroom, tired and defeated.
He can't go on like this much longer. Last night's dream had been the worst by far; he can still see the scarecrow standing in front of him, his limp body looking down at him from his rotting wooden cross, covered in dirty, torn clothes. He can still see stitched, burlap face, can still feel the hard outline of the nose underneath his fingers...
Crane stops in his tracks when he hears the sickly-sweet voice echoing through the hall. Leland. He closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. He is not in the mood for this.
He wipes the grimace fro
Becoming Fear: Chapter OneDisclaimer: I do not own the rights "Batman" or any of its characters, including Scarecrow, nor do I own any rights to the comics or the films. I own nothing!Becoming Fear: Chapter One in Horror More Like This
Crane struggles to keep his eyes open as he sits in his office at Arkham Asylum, poring over his notes. He stifles a yawn as he flips through the files, searching for the one belonging to his newest patient; he has a session with him in a few minutes, and he wants to get a feel for the patient before their meeting.
As he skims through the file, certain words jump out at him. Violent. Murdered. Life sentence.
He closes the file and sighs.
He feels no particular sense of revulsion towards his patients; he is unaffected by their crimes, indifferent to their violence. He feels no more disgust for the inmates of the asylum than he does for his coworkers, or his neighbors, or a person he may see on the street. Their reasons for entering the institution mean nothing to him, just as they mean nothing
Sessions with Madness, Chapter Two"Patient interview one with Patient Number 7942, Jonathan Crane. Dr. Crane, could you please state your name for the record?"Sessions with Madness, Chapter Two in Horror More Like This
"Dr. Jonathan Crane."
"And Dr. Crane, are you in any way, shape, or form being coerced into answering my questions against your free will?"
"No, I am not."
"Excellent. Are you ready to start?"
"By all means."
Crane watches as Perkins reaches for the thick file before him with greedy hands. He can tell the man is eager to pry; Crane wonders if he'll try to maintain an air of professionalism and start off with the "easy" questions and work his way up or if he'll blurt out the real good ones right off the bat.
"Dr. Crane, do you know why you are here?" Perkins asks, pen in hand, hovering over a notepad.
There's that spider again.
"I believe we both know why I am here, Dr. Perkins," Crane replies icily. "There is no need to pretend otherwise."
"Of course, Dr. Crane," Perkins says quickly, clearly worried that he has angered Crane—not o
[SIMILAR] part 11[SIMILAR] part 11 in General Fiction More Like This
Ragland's morgue was quite cold today, getting a slight shiver out of my system. Man I hate the cold. There were many empty morgue cabinets that had been cleaned recently and had been left open to dry. Was there a real need to clean these things? I mean sure the Doc wanted to clean things up around here, it was starting to get a bit unclean, but the cold air that I was feeling was coming directly from those cabinets, clouding mists billowed out of them, seeping down to the floor before disappearing into nothingness, just like that helicopter over Sector Seventeen, just like my hopes and dreams for a normal life.
I've always complained about the temperature here on a regular basis, but it isn't Ragland's fault, this section of the hospital always had an auto generator powered by some wind turbines and solar panels on the roof to keep it frosty in the morgue, to preserve the bodies that used to line these shelves. There aren't any bodies there now, I got rid of them once they began to de
[SIMILAR] part 3[SIMILAR] part 3 in General Fiction More Like This
A bird flew past me as the sun started to sink behind the skyscrapers, casting oblong shadows about. It was not a raven, but a dove, a beautiful white dove, such I creature rarely seen in this landscape. It was probably released from a pleasant celebration. Wanting to gaze upon the beauty a bit longer before it flew out of sight, I caught it in midair with my Whipfist and held it in my grappling claws close to me. I inspected it then, taking note of the fineness of the feathers, the curve of the talons, the innocence it possessed. It seemed scared yet strangely calm, its little eyes looking at me with curiosity and fear. It was so fortunate to be viewed as a bird of peace, so lucky to be born with such a title. People would not harm this creature given its status and fairness, and it would explore lands I will never get to know. It was free and without trouble. And I wasn't. My grip tightened.
There was a sudden crack, a silenced squawk, and red blood spattered its little white body, n
[SIMILAR] part 12[SIMILAR] part 12 in General Fiction More Like This
The first thing I saw when I looked in the lens was blood, a bountiful amount of little red blood cells floating in a sea of plasma, evenly spaced, minding their own business, still fresh too, indicating that this was most likely a recently acquired bit of Dana's blood and not one of the many samples Ragland had on hand. It looked quite normal from my own knowledge, not someone else's thankfully, but from the way Ragland was acting, all worried as hell like I was, I knew there was something here that he wanted me to see. I glanced up at him for a moment; he was looking at me with fear, like a deer waiting to flee at the slightest sign of movement made by the hunter. As if he would get very far.
I looked again into the microscope's viewer lens, and in a few seconds, my heart and breath seemed to stop as something that wasn't blood and defiantly not suppose to be there came into focus. It was a dark little thing, menacingly small, in a triangle shaped cell, red and transparent, with some
[SIMILAR] part 4[SIMILAR] part 4 in General Fiction More Like This
All I could see was its eyes, its yellow cat-like eyes. In the darkness of the night, they seemed to stand out, glowing as if they emitted their own light. I was totally paralyzed, transfixed by them. The sound of the helicopter seemed to fade away, as well as all the thoughts from my mind. Only the hypnotic eyes concerned me now. They seemed to be searching my face, darting around in a quick manner, until the slits widened. I'm not sure, but it was almost as if the owner of the strange spellbinding cat eyes seemed to recognize me. Then just as quick as they had appeared, the eyes vanished; it vanished.
The world came back slowly, so it took a while for me to comprehend what had just happened. The helicopter was hovering stationary, the propellers making that signature rhythmic beat that was almost as fast as my heart was or would have been beating. Can't tell anymore if I have a heart or not.
What was that? Was it real? The idea that it was something my mind had created, a sign I was
[SIMILAR] part 1[SIMILAR] part 1 in General Fiction More Like This
What is a monster? Some, if not most people, would say that it is a creature that lurks under the bed, ready to drag unsuspecting kids under and devour them alive. Others may think it is a man, and only rarely a woman, born of sin, only to do wrong in this world, unable to receive or accept help from good hearts; a person who does truly evil things to innocent people with no reason at all.
The truth is, there are monsters everywhere, in every one of us. They lay dormant there, until the time is right for their awakening. And when that time comes, we become something else, we all think we have a reason for what we do, and to some extent those reasons are justified. But not everyone will agree, or even believe the reasons; all they hear is excuses for why or how it began. And so, the monsters have to live with the transformation.
For me, that moment of realization and acceptance came a long time ago, only the change was much more literal.
Who I was, and still am in a sense before that de
[SIMILAR] part 10[SIMILAR] part 10 in General Fiction More Like This
The setting sun always brings back memories, none of which are mine, of happier times before all this, times that I know all humanity would cherish. But I'm not of humanity anymore, I'm not even sure I, or should I say, Alex Mercer, was a playing part in the goodness of humanity. I feel no connection with these images of the past as I gaze out at the falling orb of red fire, starting to disappear behind the skyscrapers of the faraway shoreline that I would never be able to reach or set foot on, risk being shot down or captured and experimented on like a lab rat. One would start to think, start to believe even, that all the missing stars suppose to be in the sky had gone to a better place over the water, scattered like dust along the faraway land of New York City. I don't think that I live in a part of New York anymore; it's become the leftovers of a rotting carcass now festering with maggots, forgotten and left to cave in on itself. There are no stars here, only the glow of Blackwatch'
[SIMILAR] part 7[SIMILAR] part 7 in General Fiction More Like This
"When we hunt, we kill! No one is safe, nothing is sacred; we are Blackwatch! We are the last line of defense! We will burn our own to hold the Red Line, it is the last line to ever hold!"
I spoke this verse perfectly, never faltering, my voice raised high as I chanted it in the soldier line. This motto was one of the first memories I had ever gained; yet I couldn't quite say who was the owner of this memory anymore. My Web of Intrigue is now a dense forest, with thousands upon thousands of memory neurons connecting and interconnecting to form a mesh of vines, or at least that is how I picture it in my head. So many memories, so many people, their screams forever echoing in the vast caverns of my tortured mind, haunting me. About ten percent were people who I had meant to kill, who truly deserved to die for the truth, my truth. I lament the many innocent lives I smashed, stabbed, and swiped away, the futures I stole from this cruel world of mine.
Most of the time, I don't like to think
[SIMILAR] part 8[SIMILAR] part 8 in General Fiction More Like This
It's been following me for sometime now, that thing called ERIS. I first noticed this while walking back from the meeting at the base. Why I was walking instead of just jumping quickly over rooftops is still unclear to me. I guess I just needed some time to think, to take it slow and clear my mind of any distractions. I had just gotten a block away from the base, and was heading to Ragland's morgue to check on Dana. I hope she's still all right, my steps quickened, if it comes to a day when I come in and she isn't OK, I swear I'll kill Ragland the slowest way I know possible. Not in sight of any Blackwatch personal or Infected Detectors, I shed my disguise of Commander Charles, shifting my Biomass to assume my most common identity, Alex Mercer. To this day, I still question who, or what, I really am. What I know is that Alex Mercer is who I was and am, and the Blacklight Virus is what I've become and becoming. I know that I am not just one of these things, cause if I was just Ale
[SIMILAR] part 5[SIMILAR] part 5 in General Fiction More Like This
The two strike team pilots fell through the air toward the city bellow, not even bothering to open their parachutes. Didn't they care about their lives?! I did, cause I needed at least one of those pilots alive, I needed their memories to find out who or what those eyes were, and I can't absorb dead people. Opening the side door of the cockpit, a gust of cold air hit my face. I was pretty high up, and maybe too far away to use glide and catch them. I summoned my Whipfist and let fly toward the falling pilots. At first, I though that I was out of range and that I would lose my objective, which normally happen, but right now I didn't want to make a slip up. Lucky, I was able to catch one, and I reeled the poor bastard in, I watched as the other fell into darkness of the streets, out of sight among the moving mass of Infected, which quickly began swarming at the area the body disappeared.
Jumping from the helicopter, for which I had no more use for, I glided to a nearby building with my v
[SIMILAR] part 2[SIMILAR] part 2 in General Fiction More Like This
I hate Hunters with a burning passion.
Especially when there are about twenty of them, not including three Leader Hunters, trying to rip your guts out while a strike team helicopter is gunning for you. And this all happening at eight o' clock in the morning. God, I hate Mondays as much as a normal person would, which is saying something.
I made a quick dash, catch, and consume, grabbing onto the nearest Infected while dodging the clawing charge of one of the large fleshy beasts. Everywhere I looked, dead bodies were walking, small pick-me-ups when I was in need. They had all been civilians of a marvelous and popular city at one point, spending their lives in light of another day and future. But now the city of New York was in ruins and it's inhabitants mangled into corpses, possibilities and happy tomorrows snuffed out like the candle of a birthday cake. But there is always a bright side. At least with no more civilians, there is no more traffic; meaning didn't have to worry about gett
PlaygroundPlayground in Free Verse More Like This
All that autumn her ghost haunted the playground;
no wisping phantom, but strident bits and pieces
clamoring for attention - a pair of black patent
leather shoes waiting expectantly by the teeter-totter.
And Sister Teresa had to pry red woolen mittens
off the jungle gym every morning.
Jimmy Boyle kept seeing her sweater at the swings,
its green wooly arms daring him to go higher
and trying to tag him "it".
And her best friend, Jenny Black
could see the flash of her pigtails
throwing copper across the kickball field
where recess waited to swallow them.
The toys vanished from the sandbox every evening
leaving nothing but a soft trail of disappointment
in their wake -
their accusations of neglect
and longing crouched under the
maple trees, swarming with the bees.
But winter proved a discordant grave -
the protest of frozen ground
an errant melody in the schoolyard
and her shoes kept shrinking
and stumbled down the slide,
leaving a thick crust of frost
like somber tracks that said good-bye
LarksHow soft the lark sings,Larks in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
harbinger of spring,
Cold winds try to cling,
suffocate his wings
Early April brings
Winter, still it stings -
through the trees, the rings
in smokey mornings.
And in day's dawning
he cries -
harbinger of spring,
how soft the lark sings.
CarolineYou loved the fireCaroline in Free Verse More Like This
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
LostYour slouch says it allLost in Free Verse More Like This
and the way
you wear your hat
in your hands
like something condemned
or a color
you cannot remember.
cannot chase you here
in the footsteps
whose faces vanish
torn from wallets.
will not echo
through your sleep
in blind comfort.
And no song
that bleeds your name
across the pillows
and leaves you falling
that slipped through winter...
Silk HeartYour heart glistensSilk Heart in Free Verse More Like This
like a new fish,
caught against the rocks.
You once let me hold it
in my hands
and I trembled at its weight
and the way it beat
so fiercely under my fingers -
too many birds
holding up the sky.
You offered to make me
one of my own -
monstrous and simple,
out of silk and pins
to tuck under my coat
But the truth is,
I only like yours
because it reminds me
and the clouds in your smile
every time it rains.
ViolinI remember the dayViolin in Free Verse More Like This
you told me violins
were strung with cat gut
and that is why
you hated music
(who says that to a child?)
I followed you
all that summer.
I watched you
grow away from mother -
your whiskey held better conversations
and all she did was cry.
We'd sit cross-legged on the porch
and count the horseflies
settling on our lunch.
You would drown tadpoles
in a bucket
surprised they could not swim
and I would dream
of cherry popsicles.
And when night would gather
on the sidewalk
I'd hold my breath
until a star appeared.
Don't bother making wishes
you'd tell me -
stars are dead weight in heaven
and God has cloth ears.
SkinI like your skin visceral,Skin in Free Verse More Like This
dirty with meaning -
a rampant offering
to the night.
I want your lips stuttering,
sounds feral and damp -
cleaving to my chest.
Just peel me, angel -
let those tender wings
bruise these bones
and send me
Girl Through a Windowshe is finely wiredGirl Through a Window in Free Verse More Like This
she likes opposites
in her life
but too much of a good thing
and she cannot read in the dark
she was somewhere else
and that her parents
had never met
or that autumn
would not keep her waiting.
men cannot speak
when they first see her
pass a window
and they adore
how she refuses
to ride on trains
or eat oranges
without having her best shoes on.
she likes their compliments
and how the morning
smells like brown paper
after it rains
and the steam
that crinkles out of paper cups
full of coffee.
but she doesn't smile,
because she is afraid
that once she starts
she will not be able to stop
and her mother once told her
the shape of frown
is better suited
to her complexion
and makes her
in the evening
where you forget to
put her away.
CheatsThe light makes cheatsCheats in Free Verse More Like This
of us both,
so we change clothes
in the greedy dark
or thinking twice.
We do not touch,
our skin afraid to lose
or breathe too close.
We pass in the street
but do not acknowledge
in the glare of taxi cabs
or the stiff pull of elevators.
We do not rub elbows
or let our shoulder blades
But I would know you
anywhere - any place
the sun is uneasy
and the skin of us
or strangers are told
in another direction.
Burn NoticeLet me be your martyr tonightBurn Notice in Free Verse More Like This
or your smoking gun
(you know you love it
when I pretend to be vulnerable)
Just wear me
and make me see your light
and don't take me
at face value
or let me over-think you.
Don't mince words
just take me prisoner
and let your lips do
what they do best,
with your hands
looped under my belt
and sliding down my hips
to that point
where I don't return.
Drop a bomb or two
let's see what you can detonate
and turn upside down
in this dirty little town
and just pray
the neighbors do not report us again,
because the last time
you burned this down
we didn't come up for air...
PSit's come to this-- definitionsPS in Free Verse More Like This
of memories and people and dreams
I’ll never know firsthand like reasons for living;
this realization that I
am a stagnant planet, lost
on its orbit home; this
search for a justification
to keep on breathing ocean
when my lungs won’t tolerate
salt. I woke today in the water
to angels swimming around my feet;
coral, pearlescent anchors dragging me
down, down, sweetly lullabying
about you, dear, and the day
the tides washed you away.
you are written in my skin
as much as the lies I live by
daily. you are the beautiful things:
the sun waking up in the morning, the
stars pitying at me as I try to fall asleep.
the watercolor sky sighing, the
virgin clouds crying, the last note
suiciding itself into silence.
honesty isn't a weaknessI have a headache and not enough timehonesty isn't a weakness in Free Verse More Like This
to explain the irony of how I want to be
every pretentious poet making art out of
themselves, cutting open their side and writing
in blood and pixie dust; or how difficult
it is to make a good allegory out of carsickness
and household complacency. this
is every secret I ever hid. when I was 9
someone dissected the world in front of me,
showed me it was a living, wanting thing
and that I was just a lonely cell, functioning
through my dysfunction; when I was 11
the boy I liked told me he’d be interested
if I were prettier and I learned starvation
was more a state of mind than a presence
of being. when I was 13 I researched the lethality
of cleaning products, because god, I felt so dirty,
and nothing can clean you more than a couple cupfuls
of bleach. when I was 15 I was old and decrepit
and mostly dead, returning from war with flowers
for graves that weren’t filled and a heart of
tragedy, vulnerable and draped in every shade
of mourning f
as numerous as the stars under your skinand here I am, reinterpreting the definable universeas numerous as the stars under your skin in Free Verse More Like This
in relation to you, the poet, and the gravitation
of your hips (the parentheticals of your sighs, the longing
in your star-ward cries, the vespertine scent lingering
on your weary skin).
I would love every piece of you. I would stay up too long
and watch the night crumble away, to whisper together
the scraps of your misdirected sanity. I would call you perfect
when it wasn’t true, and become the answer
you spent an entire existence
You owe me this, sugartongue; the sweet silence
of your teeth. [this story is like a million others
rejected before it, glorifying earthbound angels:
please]rewrite the world for me.
to the girl with hungry footstepsI'm sending all my words backto the girl with hungry footsteps in Free Verse More Like This
to the people who need them--
people who wear scars like
war trophies, like jewelry, like
an identification for those suffering
from the same acceptance of
self-hate. this is to the people
who sleep with one eye open, who
cry when footsteps enter their room
at night; this is to the girls
who love by cutting their hearts
into snowflakes and watching
them melt. I left you behind and
I can't be sorry for that.
you are the type of beautiful
that kindly asks the world
to fuck off. the days we buried
have decomposed, headstones are
snapshots; sanitized breakdowns,
rusty tongues, sighs laced
with fear, I love you, I love
you. saturdays were the best
because we could sleep through
the nightmare. you painted me a
picture of the world with your words
and they made us wash it away
for being transparent.
we were afraid of nothing
but the monsters in our eyelids.
back then, we counted days
like shooting stars; it took 67
to wish myself away. this
is for you, skygazer;
UnavoidedI used to know a girl forUnavoided in Free Verse More Like This
the hunger in her voice;
she spoke of something
anchoring herself to
and sinking down
I'll drink away my memory, soon,
or pray for an Alzheimer-inspired
I can't keep waking up
on the wrong side of life"
ColorblindI gave away my name todayColorblind in Free Verse More Like This
and it might be a metaphor, but I think
we only remember the quietest suicides
the walls are thin enough to listen
as the angels try to scratch free;
bloodied fingernails and God says everyone
screws up, sometimes
I'm waiting for a silent night.
I only ever believed in solid ground
and depressions' tides, and sometimes,
those little wounds I nursed deep
within my vocal chords (because
my voice is dying, too)
I can see the beautiful people, now
overdosing on their own opiums of
self-acquittal and dissolution
they ran out of ways to ask for help.
I'm fragile, but my glass ribs
aren't holding much
and I'm through trying to find something
different, because it's scary to know
what exactly's the same
yesterday I was someone else and
tomorrow I'm further into inevitabilities of
who I promised I'd never be--
I'm waiting for a happy ending,
but if you love something
you let it go.
Justifications and Salted Smiles"I don't think I'm holding on any longerJustifications and Salted Smiles in Free Verse More Like This
I'm diving in.
I wish that you would see,
there's a magical land at the bottom of the ocean
where waterproof lungs let you be
everything you've dreamed.
You can bury underneath the sand
and not be found-
it's the land that's been promised to me
in late night whispers
and burnt tears
wasted on things that don't matter.
I know it's real,
broken minds can't lie
and I can feel it in my bones-
there's something more.
What other reasons would we live for?
They say you inhale saltwater
and exhale enlightenment.
The waves pour over you
and finally make you clean (pure)
No one knows where you are
so your problems don't follow
and neither does time.
It all fades away
until you disintegrate
like your worries.
You can only get there
with a heart that doesn't beat
because humans' empty brains
You need to be all the way gone
I want to go and find myself
and live the dreams I never had.
I swear, it's not that bad-
nakedness and heavy lungsand now, I’m defined by thenakedness and heavy lungs in Free Verse More Like This
confines of my body, the faults
I carry like misdemeanors against
the ones who translate me in
lines and curves and scars that read
look, but don’t touch. now, I’m
busy catching up in revolutions
around the sun and laps within
the indignity of my own mind;
swallowing travesties and memories alike—
the sun in your voice, brightening
me inside as I wake up and breathe
like an eclipsing star, my bones clanking
together like wind-chimes, my legs
giving out like ghost people
who’ve given up. this is beautiful, this
stripping of layers upon layers
of reality and pretending
I’m not ashamed to stand naked and
quivering before those who judge me
in impersonal numbers and figures
as though I were irrelevant, that I’m not
holding my breath in hopes I will
float away like a balloon, beyond
human comprehension, light and fading
like the handwritten notes and promises
scrawled across every inch of me,
just so I could be forgotten
gossamer loveyou will love a womangossamer love in Free Verse More Like This
who uses the word
too often. she will
diagnose dead artists' descents
into madness and laugh
too loudly at jokes
no one understands.
she will braid crowns of
flowers, she will write poems
in constellations, she will
try to walk like a dancer so
no one can hear her
leave. she will be
an ice sculpture, and when
she cries, you'll convince yourself
she's melting, she loves you, you've
changed her, you've
changed; she will wear you
like a comma, like
an incomplete thought,
in her story, and
she will leave you wondering
why we pity angelsto him;why we pity angels in Free Verse More Like This
you are afraid of phonecalls. you
are afraid of your own voice, and
opening your ribcage to let
your heart come live on your sleeve.
you are afraid of living without caffeine
or alcohol, whatever the day calls for;
you are afraid of being real
without laughing afterwards, becoming
everything you worked so hard to get
away from, acknowledging all
that you still are. know this:
I am afraid of loud noises.
I am afraid of honesty and drowning,
people I don’t know and words
I won’t say. I am afraid
of growing old and living alone and
you not accepting me. I am afraid
of myself. In that, we are the same.
I have the compulsion to grab you
and cup you to me like you are some
half-alive bird, like that sound
as the lazy sun paints you a portrait is
your hummingbird heart and not my own
shallow breaths. in the beginning,
you were my peace of mind. you traced
the contours of my being with a scalpel
and held me up, a shadow puppet,
as the darkest, blackest figures I gav