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Sane "Next, please." The voice from the speakers was tired and worn-out, like he had said the words so many times it stopped having a meaning. There was one man before me, unable to move. His hair was brown and greasy, his limbs short and thick and his hands shaking. Somewhere inside his mind, he was probably screaming for his body to move, but nothing happened. He looked around him quickly, catching the gaze of two angry guards. Their uniforms were grey. Grey like dust. Ash. Death.
"Next. Please." The man was still glued to the ground. I wanted to shake him back to his senses, but that would be seen as assault. So I was forced to simply stand and watch. The guards grabbed the man by his shoulders, forcing a soft whimper from his lips. They shot him quickly and pulled him away.
"Next, please." The guards were looking at me now, clunching their guns with a smile. The tallest one was itching to pull the trigger. So I walked over the pool
The Obscure Case of Jonathan Bois It was always a busy night on Halloween. Everyone were calling, insisting that they had seen a mysterious crime, or that they held evidence that Slenderman was real. Most called again shortly after with a confession that it had just been a costume. As a detective, it was simply my fate on halloween. Just like firemen on New Years 'Eve I was the city's to boss around with.
"I swear, it's true. My husband, Jonathan, he's been dead for a year, and now he comes to visit me in the night. He asks me for help, but for what I don't know. Then he starts shaking me, detective, and he doesn't stop until I start crying. Then he withdraws into the night, only to return an hour later."
"Miss, do you have any evidence of this? Are you sure that this is your husband?" I would ask with feigned curiosity. Phone locked in place between my cheek and shoulder, I'd try to read the newspaper. I wasn't even thinking about my responses an
The Mirror Prologue Derion dreamt. In his dream he was in a far away land, outside the boundries of Gerenar and the lands beyond. In his dream he saw a people just like his. Talking, smiling, laughing, living their lives. And yet, no matter how much Derion tried to ignore it, he could see that this people was indeed different than his. Yes, they lived in metal boxes and drove horseless carriages, but it was something else that Derion noticed. That which his brethren had overcome in the War of Gods; distrust, anger, jealousy... These people had not. Their demons were not in a physical shape, but hidden beneath every breath. But he also saw hope, in the shape of a young girl not much different from him. He had never seen her before, yet somehow he knew her like a close friend. Derion reached out for her.
"You don't belong here," he yelled, "come with me!" but he could not grab her hand. The girl faded away, and no matter how quickly Derion ran, he co
Broken. "I swear that stone gargoyle just looked straight at me." The Dead World always creeped me out. It felt as if someone was always right behind me, watching, but when I looked there was only the dusty road and the metal ruins. But even then, you could not be sure if someone was hiding in the grey mists of pollution. I remembered the Watcher, a childhood story of a man who would follow you, always hiding from your look. The only way you could know if he was there was by stopping and listening. If there was a low scream somewhere in the distance, you could be sure that you were being followed. I felt like a deer running from the hunter, not able to do anything but wait for the final arrow. I considered telling Phoenix to stop to hear for him, but decided against it. She would just think that I was crazy, and you wouldn't want Phoenix to think you were crazy. It was said that she was crazy herself.
"Which one? This little fella'?" Phoenix asked,
Top Secret (3) It was on day eight after launch that I realized we had been sabotaged. I had been watching the stars like a thousand little candles on our travel to Mars, scanning the dark void for our destination. But it was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jupiter. Or Saturn. The only thing that could be seen was the bright light of Alpha Centauri, growing bigger and bigger by the day. We were heading for the gassed star system. Someone had changed the coordinates. Who would want to kill us? I thought to myself. Our mission was no threat to anyone, it wasn't even a real mission. More of a holiday trip.
“Kyle, come here a minute.”
“What now, Cody?”
“Look at this,” I pointed at the star in the distance, “we're heading towards Alpha Centauri and the Silent Killer gas. Someone wants us dead.” Kyle looked at me with a tired glance. He was wearing a pair of ripped cowboy pants and a thick red cotton sweater. It was c
Things I worry aboutDear diary,
I was once a child too. I was small and fragile, I had hopes and dreams and plans for the future. I dreamed of a land of peace and harmony, a land like it was in all the fairy tales that my mind was so obsessed with. But all those dreams were crushed when I collided with reality.
Today I met a woman sitting by the road. She was holding a newborn baby in her arms, an infant, no more than a few months old. I could not see them too clearly, because they were covered in a black fog. The dust and toxics of an oil powerplant in the distance. So I threw up on the street, dear diary, I threw up for the people with the guts to destroy our world, the only one we will ever have.
Because the world I live in is divided and broken. There are two types of people in the world; the people who have the power to save the world, and the people who want to. Sadly, society has marked green paper as mo
Scribblings She always scribbled notes in the strangest of places. Had I not held my sanity so dear, I would have read them all. Just a glance at the concrete wall gave me a headache.
"The longer the life, the graver the doom," I read aloud from one of her walls. My words echoed throughout the prisonhall; doom, doom, doom.
I had always found Ashley Barker disturbing. Unlike the rest of the patients on St. Helena's Mental Hospital, she always seemed to know things no one else did. But no one had expected her suicide. Had she foreseen it herself?
They had only found only her body and her bloodied pen, which she had even managed to write on somehow. Ashley had stabbed herself in the heart with it, it would seem. Just like she had written on the prison bars; "Stab stab stab, you never see it coming." The first we did was question the other patients. Some claimed they still saw her ghost haunting the halls. Curtis "F
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More