TAP TAP TAP TAP SCUFF. The
sound resonated throughout the mind, it echoed and played along the
corners of his mind, off every conceivable edge that his grey matter
dared to hold, but perhaps even more overpowering was the sensation
of his own heart. Beating like a doldrum amidst the confines of his
ribs. It danced like a ballerina between his lungs, and dared him to
keep going. Run or Die. The thought led speed to his feet,
and gave purpose to his frantic breathing. Mission compromised
cove

This is hard. This is hard. This is
hard. I’ve said this phrase so many times, in my bed before I
sleep, in the waking hours of the day. This is a piece of myself
that I’m probably not comfortable with, you should know that. I’ll
stutter, I’ll fidget. Because the words come with such difficulty,
I might have a way with words, I might not, but theres no eloquent
way to put this. I’m a voraphile I’ll bet money that you don’t
what that is, let alone how significant a part of mys

Love, is this what it feels like?
The thought rattled around his mind. Shaggy auburn locks jumbled
about his face, propelled by the fan to his right. A pair of deep
sapphire eyes gazed down towards his stomach; his fingers thrummed
along the exposed flesh, his t-shirt pulled up just enough so that
light shone on his navel, the slightest lump sitting atop flesh. Is
this what she meant? As if in response, the flesh trembled.
Something beneath it moved, and even with his knowledge of the
situa

The keep rose high above him like an
eerie monument to his sins. Creeping green vines split through the
mortar where lack of maintenance had begun to give the keep back to
nature; the door hung awkwardly, rotten oak and rusted steel split
and cracked where the world had worn them nearly to the ground. The
man’s legs shook; a hand rose and his teeth sunk into the flesh of
his finger.
10 years had passed, and the court of
the Duchess had fallen into disrepair. The town over which she
governed

Prologue
The manor stood silent, its hallways
vacated. The servants had retired, gone back to their quarters; only
two souls now remained. Theresa sat on the bed; long raven locks
flowed from her scalp, her bodice was pale in moonlight that cast its
glow upon the mantle of her cot. In the darkness of the doorway she
could see him, his body tall, lithe, the slightest tinge of auburn
suggesting his presence amongst the shadow he cast. Within her
chest, a heartbeat raced with the passion of the

The night was filled with noise.
Cacophonous music filled the air; the carnival had once more visited
the sleepy little town of Linston. Sleepy locals found themselves
with a new attraction upon the doorsteps of their homes. The novelty
and convenience of such a spectacle as this was truly not to be
passed up, and it was such wonder and majesty that brought a young
auburn-haired girl to the gates of the lively gathering. Within, the
sounds of enjoyment could be heard; there were rides to be

Toy soldiers-- we’ve all seen them.
The glossy finish which sits upon them. Posed in a relaxed position,
perhaps marching in line. It’s unimportant; they all symbolize one
thing, mankind’s indefinite struggle for supremacy, victory in the
face of insurmountable odds, and more importantly one nation’s
domination over another. Can you really pass them off as bits of
plastic, with no more history than the same thing you have just
likened them to? Perhaps they are; the world is filled wi