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   You fell backwards into the cold comfort of your bed. You let out a sigh as your tired eyes began to close. Another day had come and gone, leaving you to lie in your bed and wonder if tomorrow would be the same repetitive routine like every other day. Everyday felt the same to you. Everything was so dull, so lifeless, so empty, but you went through with it anyways like everyone did. You found the part of life you looked forward to the most was the time you could wander from normal life and into the world made up of your most wild dreams. Slowly, the world, along with all of reality, faded away as you fell asleep.   You felt the

A year had come and gone since the young heiress had become acquainted with the enigma of a man, now known to her as the argent hair slave driver known as Adrian Crevan. And in as much time he had established and maintained the perfect farce as her tutor to secure a place at her side to observe her until he had marked her for a death she could give an upstanding epilogue. The advent for her end would not come until she was, how he had so eloquently put it, ‘satisfactory and amusing enough to watch die’. However, whatever manner of charade the tutor-pupil mockery was, she was half-convinced he had lost himself in the ‘mundane

 Months elapsed as all time often does: too quickly. The insistent urging that had goaded her into the grips of an insane fury had paid off, as the silver-haired reaper knew it would. Her failings had become her accomplishments, and the advent of her prowess was at hand. She would play before hundreds --each a connoisseur of the musical arts in his own right. She was to preform today, within the hour. And the weight of that began to set it now, as she awaited the calling of her name. But, the most disconcerting aspect of it all was the paralyzing loneliness. With a soul that gave insight to the utter inhumanity and callous cruelty only an age

The Jack the Ripper case was one that was not long ago put to rest, albeit the culprits were never named nor brought to light. The Undertaker knew perfectly well who had done it, who had the blood of all those atrocious harlots on their hands –the late Madam Red and the ‘butler’ which whom was no butler at all. ‘So many facades, so little time’ he mused with a certain sinister ring to his echoed thoughts. Who was he to cast a stone? He was, in light of the murders, no better –perhaps even worse. No sense of moral drove him as it had the Madam. No obligation to the innocent children snuffed out afore given

Christmas was upon the world, ushered in by the frosted windowpanes and snow-kissed streets replete with the animate denizens of what was fit to be called a winter wonderland. There was a quixotic tinge to the skirts of England –horse-drawn carriages, lampposts adorned with the tangles of holiday greens topped with the lambent tongues of fire that illuminated the sheen of argent and pale hues, lovers scattered to and fro with only the arms of one another to warmth them in the December air. However, for the common-class and nobility there was a distinguishable ravine of social events and incontrovertible preliminary that led to the cli

   par·a·site   ˈperəˌsīt/   noun  An organism that lives in or on another organism (its host) and benefits by deriving nutrients at the host's expense   Parasitic and melancholic, what an insidious duo. Dormant, it waits so patiently, knowing its own astute abilities. A deadly epidemic, a terminal disease that drains everything, corrodes even the once rapturous felicity that one harbored, putrefies the hearts that were once made of gold. Its repercussions, the chaos that is sewn, dwindles its victim down to a shell of a person. ‘Do you even look deep down inside, staring at your life, paralyzin

He –a legend amongst gods- had never cared nor aspired to be a father. He, in fact, detested children; noisy, clamorous tyrants destined to grow into nuisances. Or, so he had thought... until, eftsoons, he stumbled upon a devious and mischievous little girl. Preeminent black hair as dark as the most lustrous obsidian, eyes that could put the night sky to shame with their chilling, icy hues -like an ocean before a storm when she was calm and a raging, implacable tempest when she was angered. She was his world. - "Cl-" his voice was cut short as a shriek, both of terror and a conniving delight, rang out into the air before a little on

   The words called out a grotesque resonance, a myriad of sinuous rhythm, the redolent ululation of souls past bound in eternal damnation. Her chant continued, words keeping pace to the pounding of her heart. Her mother had warned her never to succumb to the ways of old and the aberrant tribulation taking such a road would lead to, yet all the lives that had intertwined with her own –her mother and her mother’s mother continue thus in such an order –had fallen to the same calling…to that little book all the women in her family had at one time possessed. A book of devil's magic. It had fallen to her now. She was the

 Johnny Blaze sighed as he looked out the window. It had been several years since he had defeated Mephisto and got married to Roxanne. The past few years had been rather boring, well besides the fact that he got married and recently got a daughter, but the past years had been rather boring for the same things that kept happening. He still had his Ghost Rider, so every time that innocent blood was shed by it's killer, he would always leave and obliterate them and come back. Whether they were hard or not, all he had to do was find them and kill them, then come back. Same old, same old. "Johnny?" A female voice chirped and Johnny spun around an