

Grave PactGrave. That is the only word that can describe his job. If you can even call it a job. To him, it is more like capitol punishment. His soul is chained to this place, his hell on earth. Ever since that day, he hasn’t been able to leave. He is purgatory, the reaper, the boatman on the river Styx.Grave Pact
His eyes are a deep, mysterious gray, and his stare can pierce even the most solid outer shell. His hair is dirty and bedraggled, and he needs to shave. His fingernails are caked in dirt, and his hands stained red. His job is grim, and the expression on his face tells a tale of sorrow, guilt, and betrayal.
The man was once happy and caref


DeleriousA strange silence fell over the darkened meadow, as the sun retreated to behind the clouds. Such was the case when dark entities gathered in this sacred place. It wasn’t actually an attainable place for you or I, at least, not if we tried to get there. No ordinary person could walk there, no ordinary bird could fly, but yet, if you tried hard enough, or didn’t try at all, you could find yourself there in an instant. It wasn’t a place normally haunted by such evil, but evil came on occasion. Normally it was inhabited by more or less moral characters, occasionally a hero or two.Delerious


Don't Cry WolfDon’t Cry Wolf… YetDon't Cry Wolf
On my way to a field trip, my friends and I stumbled upon a pot of buried treasure… except that to our surprise, it wasn’t buried at all, but above ground where everyone can see it. Well, as any good citizen would, we took the money to our local store and bought some nifty items. It’s not everyday you get enough money to buy yourself an iPod! We left the store and headed down Memory Lane on our way to meet up with our classmates. We stumbled past Cherry Lane and then waded through Abbey Road. The Long and Winding Road was next, and then after that we took a left on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Our iPo
Previous PageNext Page