It was a peaceful Wednesday morning, the birds were chirping, the sun peeking shyly through the white, fluffy clouds, and the wind was refreshing and cold. People were bustling about, leaving from and for work. But they still had their patience intact so early in the morning. They didn’t bother honking loudly even though the traffic was slow. While inside the apartment complex was quiet and serene.

Suddenly, a psychotic shriek came from one of the apartments. This was Cam. She was by no means crazy but her hobby sure was driving her to the brink of madness. She fell over her chair, tears falling down her cheeks yet her lips pulled up in a smile. The headphones she wore were still connected to her laptop, the wires threatening to tilt the laptop over from the table. She curled up in a ball, slapping the ground.

“Ha!! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! I can’t do this! The audacity of these authors! I can’t!” she shouted.

She was a BL author. All in all, she never finished anystories so calling her an author would be pushing it. She was… a writer. One reason she couldn’t finish her stories was that she just couldn’twrite any of those scenes most fanfiction authors seem to enjoy writing. Why? Was she bad at it? Was she inexperienced in writing it? No, none of those. Her shame couldn’t handle it. But why, then, does she write BL if her thin face couldn’t even screw up the little courage she has to write the scenes (not) necessary? She doesn’t know either.

She was listening to a podfic for research purposes. Listening to it was no problem but putting herself in the author’s shoes would suddenly stress her out.

“I would have to write this someday, right?? Someday, someday, someday, someday…” she repeated over and over again.

“You okay?” her sister asked, not bothering to look away from the K-drama she was watching as if she asked the question just for the sake of it.

“I’m okay.” Cam squeaked out.

She stood up and dusted her clothes, facing the document in front of her. Maybe, this time, she was ready.

Okay, okay, here we go.She thought.

Resting her fingers on the keyboard, she wiped away her tears with her sleeves and started.Liam felt Eli's hot breath press against his–she instantly stopped and drooped to the side.

“What the ffUUUAAHHHH–! I can’t do this.”

So, she didn’t. She gave up. And that’s it. That’s the story.

~The End~

IMPRISONED⎯♡ The long chestnut brown eyelashes belonging to Florian flutter as he winces due to the sharp throbbing on the back of his head.

The dry blood stains his neck, as he tries to stand but realizes he can't.

He feels the restrictive bonds around his wrists as he searches the dingy basement for a clue on his whereabouts.

Suddenly faint humming drifts to his ears as he can hear the door creak open. Florian's attention snaps to the tauntingly slow steps belonging to his capture. "Good, you're finally awake."

H/n? How?

Florian's mind wanders off to last night when he had confronted the young man in front of him. Ah. When he turned his back. What a foolish mistake on his part.

"I wondered how long you were going to be out for, but I'm glad my new plaything is awake," H/n smiles at the male with sinister intentions clouding his mind as he drags a sharp blade across Florian's tense face. "Ah! But before that, I have a surprise for you."

H/n sets the knife down before walking over to a large plastic bag to drag it over. He releases his hold and allows it to thud against the ground revealing the contents to the stoic male.

Florian's face contorts as he recognizes that familiar decaying face, Chelsea.

"She just had to put her meaningless words in my sweet Y/n's head. That's why she had to go," he tuts as he slides the garbage back into its previous place.

"I just wanted to show you what's going to become of you," he squats in front of Florian peering into his shaking pupils, "But unlike last time, I get to have some fun."

This is a visual of what the cover of what Daffi's comic looks like...but shit. Cus I can't draw for shit. At all. The stick figure in the back is kai...its very realsitic

Dear David,

I’m sorry if this is awkward. I’ve never really had a pen pal before. I saw some of the ads for this program so I just signed up! I figured it would be nice to talk to someone else. I was surprised when I saw your were San Fransisco! I’ve never actually met an American person.

I guess I should tell you a bit about me. My name is Sarah and I’m from Sydney, Australia. I’m 24 and own a bakery! I’m not really sure what else to say.

My friends told me you’re meant to ask questions so here I go:

Do you have pets?

Are you allergic to anything?

Have you had other pen pals before ?

From,

Sarah

P.S I hope you can read my handwriting growing up I was told it was horrible.

Dear Sarah,

I’ve never met a person from Australia before! I’ve been using this program for about two years now. I’ve talked to people from Scotland and Durban though.

It’s impressive you have your own bakery at 24. I’m 26 and all I do is play music at local bars and serve alcohol to people a few times a week.

To answer your questions yes, I do have a pet. She’s a white rabbit named Nimi. I think I’ve had her for 6 years now? Do you have any pets?

Sadly, I’m allergic to shellfish and grass. It sucks.

Yup! Though the other ones didn’t work because ase we weren’t sure when to send letters and such. I think some of mine got lost and so I never got a reply. Do you have instagram? That might help with communication to make sure we get the letters. If you do, my username is lovnimi (I’m sure you can understand the name). Just shoot me a message telling me it’s you!

Now, for my questions.

What type of stuff do you bake?

Do you like music? If so, what type?

Do people really ride kangaroos in Australia?

From,

David

P.S don’t worry it wasn’t awkward at all. I too have chicken scratch so I could read your letter perfectly. The real question is, can you read my hand writing?

“They came through gaps within reality itself. They tore through the fabric of the universe. They brought enough steel, fire, and rage to eclipse all of our stars. They did all of this to get to us. To destroy us. Because we, in our arrogance and ignorance, thought that we could take the remains of our masters’ galaxy. But we were wrong. And we burned for it. All of us.”

-From “The Last Cradle” by Lashul Kel’Dar

Station X-13

Orbit of Kondolar, Kel’Bal Empire

The sight of Kondolar was as beautiful as it always was. The blue oceans and green fields as far as the eyes can see. A gem in the empire’s ever-brilliant crown. Though its orbit was rather cluttered with the abnormal amount of orbital stations and patrol craft, it did nothing to ruin the view. Because of Kondolar’s toxic atmosphere, its land could only be traversed with specialized vehicles and in hazard-proof suits of armor. But Kaldik Jul’Dar was more than satisfied to observe the planet from his ornate throne.

Being the overseer of all operations that took place in the system had its many perks. One of which was the ability to lazily roam around without being bothered by petty tasks and unnecessary complications. Let the menials, servants, and slaves take care of that. Why should someone of his ranking and stature be concerned with such things?

“Girl,” he growled, still sitting on his throne, “Refreshments. Now.”

A rather pale, curvy woman carried a tray in her scarred arms. She wore thin, see-through robes around her body and made sure to cover her face behind thin fabric as well as her long, curly, dark hair. Only the master could see her. Kaldik took the brass cup from the tray and gulped down the humberry wine inside of it. Just as the woman was about to leave, he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. His rough, four-digit hands groped her behind and trailed up her back and then her belly. She recoiled and then grimaced.

Kaldik chuckled, drops of the wine oozing from his mouth, “Soft. You’re all so soft.”

“P-Please-” she tried to say before Kaldik slapped her.

“What did I say about talking? Keep your tongue behind your teeth.”

He was about to grab her waist with both hands when an eerie buzz sounded from the back end of his chamber. With an annoyed growl, he pressed a button on the side of his throne and a door slid open. Through walked a tall and slim Kel’Bal officer. His gaunt features and professional attire contrasted with Kaldik’s obesity and royal garments. The officer saw the woman next to his lord’s throne and paid her no mind.

“What do you want?” Kaldik asked with a snarl, “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“A thousand apologies, my lord but this is an urgent matter.”

Kaldik was still groping the increasingly uncomfortable woman, “Speak.”

For a moment, the officer tried to find the right words to convey the message. Eventually, he decided to be transparent.

“We have received a transmission from an unidentified vessel. One of our long-range tethers picked it up and-”

“What do you mean unidentified?” Kaldik asked, interrupting the officer.

“The vessel and the nature of the transmission don’t compute with any other account logged in our database. We have attempted to contact the Sector Lord and the results were…”

“They were what?”

The officer stammered again but straightened himself.

“The vessel is of human origin.”

This time, the woman turned his gaze toward him and Kaldik let go of her. With a flick of his hand, he motioned her to leave the chamber and she did as quickly as she could. Kaldik pressed another button and his throne turned to face his officer.

“Human? The slaves have a ship?”

“No, my lord. The Sector Lord says that other humans requested an audience with him six moons ago. They presented themselves as the Terran Union, a great power from the galactic west.”

Kaldik laughed at that, “A great power. The Empire is a great power. It is the only coherent power left in this crumbling galaxy. Do those slaves think they can populate a cluster of rocks and call themselves a power? What a joke.”

The officer swallowed, “They came with… demands, my lord.”

“What demands?”

“They wanted us to free their people, return all technology and land we have taken from them, pay reparations, and become a part of the Terran Union.”

He expected his lord to rage. He certainly has done so in response to less egregious things. His mind raced back to the time he murdered slaves who merely asked to be treated better or even his own soldiers who wanted to return to their families after serving for much more time than they signed up for. He braced himself. But no rage came. Instead… laughter. Kaldik laughed so hard tears slid down his dark blue cheeks.

“They have guts, I will give them that,” he said, “I presume Jalim refused?”

“The Sector Lord not only refused, he also killed several of the human slaves in front of their delegates and demanded reparations for wasting his time.”

Kaldik laughed again, “I expected no less. So what do they want now? To let their precious children go?”

“No, they…” the officer stopped his sentence, his gaze wandering around the room.

Kaldik’s expression changed somewhat, “They what? Speak up!”

“They said, and I quote, ‘No more chances’.”

Before Kaldik could form another question, the station shook violently, and alarms began sounding as loudly as they could. He looked out the window that faced Kondolar and saw massive warships pouring out of giant, gray holes in space. They were long and sleek, with glowing lines running down its center. As soon as they got within range they opened fire and destroyed the patrol vessels around the station. Minutes later, a truly gargantuan ship appeared, its rectangular shape making it stand out. It spat out hundreds of small, agile craft that attacked the stations, blowing their shields and defense systems. A dozen torpedos pierced their hulls but didn’t explode.

The officer rushed out of the chamber, leaving Kaldik alone to watch the void battle unfold. Soldiers were scattered all along the halls, dragging slaves back into their wards or preparing their weapons for the enemy. How did they get the drop on us, he kept asking himself. Their scanners were second to none and even if the enemy had surprised them, the assembled stations and scout fleet should’ve lasted far longer. No one knew what was left of the Royal Navy detachment around Kondolar’s orbit nor did they have time to gather such information.

“Commander Vul’Nam!” a soldier called out to the officer.

“What’s the situation? Have the humans boarded the station?”

“We believe so. Communications don’t run below the thirtieth level and the observation systems don’t tell us anything.”

The station shook again. This time it was so violent that many of the servants, menials, and even guards fell on the floor. What in the blazing hells was happening? The humans? They did this? Impossible. They are slaves. Remarkable physiological specimens to be sure but slaves nonetheless. They don’t possess such technology, tactics, and strength.

“How many men did we have down there?” the commander asked.

“I’m not sure. Easily a hundred per level. More on the lowest ten, where most of the slaves are kept. I would say five thousand, give or take.”

Vul’Nam nodded, “Keep attempting to reestablish communications. We must regroup before they overrun us. The fact that we’re still breathing means they don’t want the station destroyed.”

Another soldier was about to speak before shouts and sounds of energy discharge echoed through the halls. They were followed by loud pops and bangs as well as small explosions. Then bodies started falling on the floor. Soon, soldiers ran across the hall from behind the corner in front of Vul’Nam, roughly ten of them, before they were brutally torn apart by kinetic ammunition. Kinetic?

“Form a line!” he ordered.

His men obeyed and aimed their energy weapons down the hall. Some took cover behind toppled-over drones and machines. Three dozen soldiers steeled themselves and waited for the enemy to come. But they wouldn’t wait long as heavy footsteps thumped from behind the corner. Vul’Nam tried to hide his shock as five giant, armored figures appeared.

Those were not humans.

The average human was at least half a head shorter than a Kel’Bal. Not to mention these… things were far too broad to be humans. Mutants maybe? Special genetic offspring? Vat-grown warriors? Whatever the case, they were here and they were a threat. But their appearance was as much of a contradiction as their stature. Their armor was thick but not overly bulky. Made from advanced dark material and design no one thought capable at the hands of the humans. Their chests, arms, and heads had scratch marks and even bullet dents. No one could see their faces behind their eyeless masks. But then there were… other things. Each warrior had distinct blue lines running all over their body. Some were in the shape of serpents, others mammalian predators, and others were incoherent lines and scribbles. Fur and leather pelts hung from their shoulders and waists like trophies or pieces of heraldry. While four of them wielded large, two-handed firearms, the one in the center held a long, gray sword that glowed with dim, white energy and a pistol in his other hand.

For the lack of better words, they looked like barbarians. Savages, clad in stollen armor, pretending to be sophisticated soldiers.

Vul’Nam’s hands felt heavy. He wasn’t sure what to do. The armored giants held their weapons raised but didn’t make a move. Neither did any of the Kel’Bal soldiers. For a moment it felt like they were going stay there forever until a sliding door opened behind Vul’Nam and a child ran out. A human child. It must have slipped past the guard that was inside, the commander thought. His theory was proven correct as the guard grabbed the child and pulled it back.

“Close that damn-” were Commander Vul’Nam’s last words as a bullet blew half of his head off.

The armored warriors opened fire, blasting Kel’Bal soldiers apart. Their makeshift barricades meant nothing as large, sharp bullets pierced through the metal. Those who fired back either missed or did little to no damage as an energy field around the warriors absorbed the shots. Many tried to run away but only a few managed to get out before their backs were blown open and their skulls destroyed. Barely a dozen were left alive and to their credit were still fighting. But not for long as the leading warrior charged at their position with unnatural speed and cut apart meat and metal alike with his sword.

He cut the first he found down the middle before putting two holes into another one. The one on his right was cut in two by his waist and the one behind him was impaled through his throat. Pulling the sword back, the warrior’s head tilted as a Kel’Bal shot him in the back of the head. He was lying on his back with one of his hands on his bleeding belly. The warrior walked toward him and stomped his head into the ground. Then he fired off more shots and killed the two that were running down the corner. The others were gone but that didn’t matter. The warrior stood in front of the metal door, sliced it with his sword, then kicked it down.

“Stop!” the Kel’Bal guard shouted at him.

Ordinarily, he would have died quicker than he could finish that word. But he was holding the crying child from earlier in his arm and a gun to its head.

“Don’t come any closer, freak! I will kill it!”

The warrior raised both of his hands into the air.

“Good. Now put your weapons on the ground!”

He slowly began lowering himself. The guard, while still terrified, was starting to smile. A feeling of superiority ran through him when he commanded the armored giant. That feeling vanished as quickly as it came when a bullet zoomed over the warrior’s shoulder and into the guard’s head.

Before his body hit the ground, the child ran to a bruised, blond woman in the corner of the room. His mother, the warrior assumed. The people huddled close to each other, clearly terrified of the giant, armored figure standing before them. He took a single step forward, and the frightened mass recoiled and crawled further back as if they could somehow ghost through the wall.

Glancing around the spacious chamber, he saw that there were more races than just humans present. Some were larger and more rotund while others were smaller with fur. A few had scales and many were completely pale and hairless. One thing they all had in common though were the metal collars around their necks and ankles. It disgusted him.

Slowly and with care, the warrior lowered himself onto one knee. He first put his pistol on the ground. Then he turned the energy of his blade off and presented it before the scared people like an offering. Take it, the gesture said, I mean not to use it. Lastly, he pressed a small button on the back of his helmet, and with a hiss its parts split.

He took it off and as he did, dark crimson hair fell past his shoulders. The frightened people felt calmer at the sight of his battle-hardened yet surprisingly kind face. Many were somewhat mesmerized by his light blue eyes whose beauty contradicted the rest of his body.

"Do not be afraid," he said as gently as he could, his voice nevertheless sounding like that of a monstrous warlord. Yet the people felt no fear when he spoke.

The warrior extended his armored right hand, "I will not harm you. None of us will. We are here to free you."

Slowly, cautiously, the tear-soaked child crawled toward him. The gentle giant raised the boy to his feet and dried his cheeks. He then picked him up and put him on his shoulder.

"I am Centurion Idris Corcoran, warrior of the Black Steel Legion of the Raiders Army. We fight for humanity in the name of the Terran Union. And we are here to free you from tyranny."

The people stared at him with a mixture of shock and amazement. They weren't sure what to feel. This life of hardship was all they'd known for so long that the thought of something else was almost foreign to them.

"And them?" a woman asked, raising her arm in the direction of the aliens. Idris couldn't see her face behind the fabric but knew she was more courageous than afraid when she raised her voice.

"They suffer like us."

The warrior looked at the aliens and then back at the woman, "The Union welcomes all who seek peace. These Kel'Bal do not. And they will be punished."

Before the woman could ask more questions, another large warrior walked up behind Idris.

"Sir, the rest of the century is ready to advance on your command," he spoke through his faceless helm, his voice distorted and changed to sound even more menacing, "The lower floors have been cleared and the 9th Terran Troopers Brigade is securing the prisoners."

"Have they found enslaved civilians?" Idris asked.

"Many. Thousands."

"And enslaved aliens?"

"An equal if not greater number. They're also being treated."

Idris turned back to the frightened crowd, "You are slaves no longer. Wait here until more help arrives."

He put the now-smiling child down, took his weapon, and walked out of the chamber. The woman ran after him.

"Wait!" she shouted at the centurion, who slowly turned around, "Kill Kaldik!"

Idris tilted his head, "Who?"

"He's the leader of these… monster. He… he did…" she shook and held her body as tears ran down her cheeks.

Idris walked up to her and put his massive hand on her shoulder, "He will die. I promise you that."

Just as he finished his oath, his enhanced ears picked up a distinct sound of doors and gates opening. Dozens of Kel'Bal soldiers ran down the halls, weapons in hand, ready to fight.

So were the Raiders.

As the xenos appeared in front of the giant warriors, Idris unleashed the full strength of his voice.

"Brothers!" his words shaking the very walls around the Kel'Bal, "These dregs have spat in our faces and murdered our people! We gave them a chance to repent and they refused!"

His sword crackled with energy.

"What is their penalty?!"

"Death!" his warrior roared out.

"In Duncan's name! Let none live!"

The Kel'Bal opened fire. A sea of flashing energy flew down the hall at the Raiders. It did little as the super-soldiers fired back and ripped a dozen xenos in seconds. They ran toward their foe, still firing and still landing shot after shot. One of the Raiders bashed a Kel'Bal into a wall, cracking his skull open. Another crushed an alien's ribcage with his metal boot. Two aliens tried tackling one of the armored giants but couldn't even move him. The Raider shot them both and moved on.

Idris cleaved through their terrified ranks with ease, his blade vaporizing the purple blood that fell on it. With expert precision, he fired his pistol and blew through two alien heads with one shot. He spun around, slicing a head off and then impaling another alien through his gut. The xeno soldier was boiled from the inside out as the heat from Idris' blade cooked his insides. His blue skin turned to purple and then became a scorched slab of flesh.

On the Raiders went, slaughtering every enemy in their path. None were shown mercy. The Kel’Bal that did surrender were given a quick death. And those that didn’t were far less fortunate. The station kept shaking as the navy destroyed its defenses and surrounded it. The void battle had been won but there was still much work to do both on the station as well as the planet below.

Idris admitted that he was somewhat impressed. Despite their predicament, most of the xenos still fought on. It made Idris glad he could give them a warrior’s death instead of a coward’s. But it wasn’t going to change the outcome of the battle.

Eventually, the centurion and his men reached a large, heavily ornate door etched with alien symbols and letters he didn’t understand or care for. With three swings of his sword, he turned most of the metal into molten slag and kicked it down. He moved in with a dozen Raiders, all aiming their weapons at the Kel’Bal.

Idris looked around the large, highly decorated chamber. The walls were covered in fine silks and silver, the floor was made of smooth rock, not metal, and the ceiling had over a dozen chandeliers of various sizes, all of which shined like crystals. Debauchery, Idris thought. To live in such luxury and have everyone beneath you beg for scrap. It made him sick.

“What are you waiting for!?” the rotund alien shouted while pointing his fat fingers at the Raiders, “Kill them!”

The fifty or so soldiers that were gathered in the chamber held their guns with shaky hands. Soon, one by one, they threw them on the ground and got on their knees.

“Get up!” the xeno yelled, “Get up, you dogs! Fight!”

Idris slowly advanced to the alien, his sword in hand, “Are you the leader?”

“I am Baron Kaldik Jul’Dar! I represent the Kel’Bal Empire in this sector! Who do you think you are, barbarian?!”

“That isn’t important,” Idris said as he grabbed the Kaldik and threw him on the ground in front of his men, “Take him to the Morrigan along with the others.”

Kaldik protested through the halls but no one paid him any attention.

-

The Morrigan was a massive Colossus-class battleship, capable of waging battles all on its own. Its hangars were big enough to support armies and its guns were more than enough to decimate any foe that dared to face it.

The Kel’Bal that were gathered there looked around in awe as they witnessed the battleship’s size and power. Even Kaldik couldn’t hide his shocked expression.

“The station has been cleared. You can proceed,” Idris spoke into a comms device.

A minute later, the battleship’s cannons fired and destroyed the station within seconds. Massive chunks of scorched metal flew in all directions, most of them falling on the planet. Soon, barely anything of the station was visible and the Kel’Bal stared at their captors once more.

“On your knees,” Idris ordered with a low tone.

“How dare you!?” Kaldik shouted in rage, “Do you not know-”

Idris shot him in the kneecap, causing him to fall down in pain while screaming.

“On your knees.”

The rest of the Kel’Bal obeyed. Their hands were tied behind their back so all they could do was look at the ground and hope. Hope for mercy.

“Bring them in,” Idris said and a massive gate opened.

Hundreds of people, human and otherwise, stepped into the gigantic hangar. They wore newly-unpacked jackets and coats. Many of them had their body parts bandaged and some would need prosthetics. All of them stared at the kneeling Kel’Bal who in turn looked back, mostly in disgust.

“Is that it?” Kaldik snarls, “You wanted us to see the slaves you stole from us? Enjoy them while you can. When word reaches the Cradle Worlds, all of you will join them.”

Idris said nothing. Instead, he walked over to one of the women in the group, the same one who spoke of Kaldik on the station. Now that the cloth from her face was gone, everyone could see the x-shaped scar on her left cheek and cut upper lip. It offered a contrast to her otherwise attractive figure. Idris took out a throwing dagger from his side pouch and gave it to her. The dagger was large in her small hands yet surprisingly light.

“You never gave me your name,” he said as softly as he could.

The woman hesitated for a bit before replying, “Irina.”

“A beautiful name,” he said and stared at Kaldik, “He is now yours.”

On cue, the Raiders and Terran Troopers armed the now-freed slaves. The Kel’Bal were frightened. Terrified. Outraged. Many cursed at them, demanding to be released. Others tried to negotiate some sort of deal. Some even tried to get up and run, only to be beaten back down.

Kaldik laughed, "Do you think these pathetic lowlifes can harm us? Their masters?"

For a while his words were true. None of them moved a muscle. But then Irina began to walk. Slowly at first, then picking up the pace. She walked toward Kaldik as she clutched the dagger tightly.

"What do you think you're doing, you wretch?! Stay away from me! Keep your filth away-"

His words vanished as she stabbed him in the chest. Both of them gasped and froze for a moment. Irina pulled the knife out and stabbed him again. And again and again and again, each time she did, her expression changed from shock to anger.

As Kaldik's body fell to its side, the others joined Irina. They slashed, cut, stabbed, and tore apart their former masters. The Kel'Bal screamed and begged but their cries were ignored. The former slaves had no cohesion, no direction. All they wanted was vengeance. And they got it.

After half an hour of butchery, all of the Kel'Bal were dead. The freed people cheered and shouted in triumph. Some cried from the joy of being free. There were those who looked at their bloody hands in horror, however. The taking of life was not a task suited for everyone.

Irina slowly walked back to Idris, who observed what had happened with crossed arms. She wanted to give him back the dagger but he pushed it back into her hand.

“My gift to you.”

He faced the others.

“You are now free! You owe us or the Terran Union nothing! However! If you wish to fight! If you wish to avenge your people, free your homes, and make the Kel’Bal pay, join us!”

“What do you mean?” Irina asked with no small hint of excitement in her tone.

Idris looked out from the hangar’s see-through barrier, which allowed everyone to look out into the emptiness of the void. An emptiness soon to be filled as dozens of gigantic gray tears open up and ships come pouring in from out the other side. Ranging from scouts to leviathans, the Terran Void Navy displayed its power proudly.

Those gathered in the hangar looked out in awe.

Idris couldn’t help but smile, “This war has only just begun.”

---

Thank you very much for reading

If you'd like to support me and my work feel free to upvote, follow, and check out my Patreon where you can get access to early chapters, a private Discord server, a chance to commission, and even influence ongoing stories: patreon.com/SimpleWrites

The saint and the sinner, both with hearts full of regret, looked at each other across the chasm. Though each craved to be with the other, they knew that they would only hurt one another if they took the risk. So, they stayed apart and mourned the fate that had brought them together but also separated them from each other. The saint and the sinner, torn between the desire for love and the fear of pain, were trapped in a bittersweet paradox. The fates always had a cruel game to the thing called love. A saint and a sinner, could never love one another. The saint was filled with pure light and the sinner with darkness. They were drawn to one another, like a moth attracted to a flame. However if they dared touch, one would fall and one would burn.Destined to be apart but always in love. A tragic ending pre assigned to a beautiful story that could never be.

I am a dentist, a licensed dentist. My name is Dr. Crush, and I have a patient coming in in just a few minutes. I check the time and look around my dental office and outside the door. I listen if anyone is around and nod my head. I'm alone. I open the drawer thats supposed to have cleaning supplies, but no, theres a human head in it. I pick up the head by the hair and tilt my head a bit.

"Your teeth are rotten." I say

The head has nails, needles, and pencils as teeth, shoved into the gums. The eyes are half-closed and lifeless. I smile at the head, touching its "teeth." Someone knocks on the door, and I quickly put the head back in the drawer, slamming it close. The forehead got caught between the drawers and smashed. Making it bleed and leak out of the drawer. I try to wipe it off, but I can't get the stains off.

"Shit."

The patient comes in looking at me. I'm a nervous wreck and sweating, hoping to God she doesn't see the blood on the white drawer. She waves at me awkwardly, and I give her a nod.

"Christine?" I say, questioning if shes the right patient meeting me today.

"Yes sir." She says this while sitting down on a chair.

Christine is a young woman in her 20s. She is awfully cute and good-looking. Her curly brown hair touched the back of her ass, making me stare at it a bit. I wasn't into her at all, but a guy checks asses out once in a while.

"So you're just here for a checkup, correct?" I say getting supplies.

"Yes, I am."

"Alright, date of birth, so I can verify?"

"10/2/2000"

"Alright, perfect."

Christine looks around the office while I get the supplies, then I turn around. My eyes catch attention to her breast. They have stretch marks, and her breasts were completely flat. Like..deflated. I find it oddly weird that her breast looks deflated.

"Christine, are you okay?" I asked, nodding my head towards her breasts.

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay. You must have heard about this somewhere. You must have even watched the video of it." She said, looking away from me, avoiding eye contact, sad.

"..No. I don't have social media, sweetheart; I just use my phone for texts and calls." I say, I'm feeling old. I wash my supplies for her.

"A serial killer kidnapped me and made a little skit of me." Christine said straight forward.

"Oh!..oh.  I'm sorry about that." I was wondering if there was really another serial killer other than me. It's surprising since we live in such a small town. I smile.

"Lay down right here, Christine." I signal my hand towards the dental bed.

She lays down and opens her mouth. I examine her teeth with my tools, checking for any cavities or any complications in her mouth. Her teeth seem pretty healthy and white. It doesn't look like she flosses every day, though. My mind wanders off to the other serial killer in town. Who was he? A video? Does he film his crimes? Why did he pick Christine? I always have a reason to kill my victims. If their teeth are bad, I kill them. So simple. I usually do it that way; if I find a bad tooth, I'll kill them, because a lot of people have bad teeth. So that's a lot of people to kill. But, Christine, there's no bad tooth at all. In my head, I think to myself "Damnit". But what's stopping me? Just because I made some silly rules for myself doesn't mean I have to follow them, right? Man, I just really want to kill her. I don't care anymore.

Christine looks over at the drawer and jumps up. She saw the blood leaking out and gasps.I look at the drawer and sigh. How stupid could I be? I get up and grab her by her wrist and lay her back on the dental bed.

"NO!" she yells out. "PLEASE NO! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE NO."

She gives off a good fight, but I manage to pin her to the bed and stab her in the eye with a tooth scraper. She screams in pain, covering her eye and falling off the dental bed, the floor hitting the scraper in her eye and pushing it further in. I stare at her, amused. This girl cannot get a break from pain. I bring out my phone, and I search the web for her snuff video. I found it. I put on my projector and walked towards the lights to turn them off. Christine manages to stand up, crying in pain. I lock the door and grab her by the hair, making her look at her own snuff video. Well, I shouldn't say snuff. She hasn't died. She screams.

"NO NO NO NO." Christine shakes her head while crying out blood and tears.

I watched the video in shock, still holding her hair in my hand. This man did this to this girl? I look at Christine and yank the scraper out of her eye. The scraper came out with her eyeball attached, making her yell and cry. She was crying and screaming. I hope nobody hears her. I get out the pliers from my drawer and put them in her mouth while holding her head still. I clamped the pliers on one tooth, making sure I had a good grip on it, and yanked it out as slowly as I could to make her feel pain. I do this to the rest of her teeth, and it takes 30 minutes. Right now, she's on the floor, sobbing and holding her mouth. I can imagine what it felt like. Just her gums pulsing at the same rate as her heart, bleeding. Blood is all over the floor, and there is blood on both of our clothes. I put my hand in the drawer and pulled out the needles." I grab her hair, and she punches me in the nose.

"FUCK!" I yell.

I shove a needle into her nose, making her scream and roll on the floor. She takes out the needle and tries to crawl away, but I grab her by the feet and drag her back, pulling her hair and opening her mouth with my fingers. I shove needles in her mouth and shut her mouth with my hands forcefully. She screams, crying, as blood drips down her mouth.

She faints.

I pant like a dog, trying to catch my breath. She had a good fight. But she's not dead. I'm tired. I cleaned up Christine and put her on the dental bed while cleaning everything with bleach until everything looked brand new. I carry Christine to the trunk of my car, hoping no one sees me putting her in my trunk and the blood on my clothes. I drive to a nearby dumpster and dump her in the trash. I know she's not dead, but I think she's going to get killed by wild animals with all the open wounds on her.

I gazed into my mirror and to my suprise my own reflection looked away saying I was ugly as a witch. Was very fat and would soon have gray hairs.

Offended I said, "Now look here mirror, you use to be quite mellow. I'm still a young pretty woman, what's gotten into you today?

My reflection stared and gleefully cried, "Why you're an ugly pig of a woman. This you cannot possibly deny. Your belly is getting fat, round and soon you'll be shaking like a bowl of jelly.

I said mirror, please don't bawl. You're jealous because of being trap within these walls. I catch enough flack from jerks like you, forever putting me down because they have nothing better to do

If you don't anything good or positive to say, beware or I'll paint you out of my life today.

As I continue to argue with my reflection in the mirror, things took an unexpected turn.

"Oh!"

Suddenly, there was a loud crash as the glass shattered and my reflection leaped out at me, taking on physical form. It stood before me, towering over me, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light.

"You think yourself so clever," it sneered, "but you are but a pitiful creature, blind to your own flaws." I backed away, trying to find something, anything, that could defend myself against this entity.

But all I had was a broken piece of the mirror frame. The thing advanced opon me, its shadow stretching long and menacing across the floor. Just then, there came a knocking sound at the door.

But who would come visit me at such a late hour? I slowly opened the door to a dark stranger dressed in a trench coat The visitor entered quickly, his eyes darting around quite nervously. He held out a small box, which he pressed into my hands.

"Here, take this," he whispered urgently. "It might help you against whatever this is." With that, he fled the house. With trembling fingers,

I opened the box to reveal a simple silver pocket watch engraved with the initials 'JR'.

And suddenly, I knew exactly how to defeat the dark entity standing before me. In one swift motion, I snapped open the watch and aimed it directly at the creature. Its eyes widened in shock as a blinding beam of light shot forth, illuminating the entire room.

When the light had dissipated, the entity was gone. Frightened, exhausted and confused, I collapsed onto the couch. How did I ever get into such a situation anyway? And what was the purpose behind the mysterious gift of the silver pocket watch?

As I sat there pondering these questions, I heard another noise coming from outside my window. A figure was climbing up towards my apartment on a rope made of sheets tied together. Whoever was climbing up seemed familiar but I couldn't remember from where.

My heart racing, I quickly grabbed the box with the silver pocket watch and waited for the stranger to enter. I didn't know whether this person was friend or foe, but I was ready for whatever came next.

The stranger finally reached my window and climbed inside. He was a young man, about my age, with messy brown hair and green eyes. And wore a leather jacket, jeans and boots. He looked at me with a mix of relief and concern.

"Thank God, you're alright," he said, "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

I stared at him, feeling a surge of recognition. He was the same man who had given me the silver pocket watch earlier. But how did he know me? And why was he here?

"Who are you?" I asked, clutching the box tightly. "And what is this thing?"

He smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "My name is Alex," he said.

"And this is a time machine."

I blinked, not sure if I had heard him correctly. A time machine? That sounded absurd. But then again, so did everything else that had happened tonight.

"A time machine?" I repeated, incredulous. "You're kidding, right?"

He shook his head, serious. "No, I'm not. Listen, I don't have much time to explain, but you need to trust me. You're in grave danger. There's someone who wants to kill you. Someone from the future."

I felt a chill run down my spine. Someone from the future? Who? And why?

"Who?" I asked, feeling a surge of fear. "And why?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "His name is Remy," he said. "He's a rogue agent from the Time Bureau. He's after you because you're the key to perhaps stopping a terrible war that will destroy the world."

I let out a gasp, feeling somewhat overwhelmed. The Time Bureau? A war? Me? How was this possible?

"I don't understand," I said, shaking my head. "How am I the key? What do I have to do with anything?"

He took my hand, looking into my eyes. "You're the one who will invent a free energy device called 'Photon-X Mecury' he said. "That will provide clean and unlimited energy for the world."

The one that will end the dependence on fossil fuels and prevent the climate crisis. The one that will save millions of lives."

I stared at him, quite speechless. I was a physics student, yes, but I was nowhere near inventing anything. I had barely passed my last exam. How could he say such things?

"That's impossible," I said, pulling away. "You're lying. You're crazy."

He shook his head, pleading. "No, I'm not. I'm telling you the truth. I'm from the future, too. I'm a Time Agent. I was sent to protect you from Remy. He's been hunting you down through time, trying to kill you before you make your breakthrough.

He wants to stop you from changing the world. He wants to keep it in turmoil and war."

I felt a surge of disbelief. A Time Agent? Hunting me down through time? This was too much. This was insane.

"Stop it," I said, covering my ears. "Stop it. This is ridiculous. This is a nightmare. I want to wake up. I wish to wake up now."

He reached out to me, trying to calm me down. "Please, listen to me," he said. "This is not a nightmare. This is real. And you're not alone. There are others like you. Others who have the potential to change the world.

People who are being targeted by Remy. We have to find them before it's too late. We have to stop him and save the future."

He held out the silver pocket watch, offering it to me. "This is your ticket to destiny. Will you come with me?"

I looked at him, then at the watch, then back at him. I felt a mix of emotions. Fear, doubt, curiosity, excitement. I didn't know what to do or believe. I didn't know what to say.

But then, I made up my mind. I took a deep breath, and said, "Yes, I am trying to wrap my head around these current events. But, I believe you.

"Let's go!"

for this chapter:https://open.spotify.com/intl-tr/track/56oReVXIfUO9xkX7pHmEU0?si=55888f897da54412

The world is spinning with the game my eyes play on me. My head hurts with the lights that flash on and off, torturing the eyes.  A low, misty voice echoes in my ears. I wonder why once again. I am once again looking for answers to these questions that I cannot answer whenever I ask them. Why are people not divided into good and evil in religions and myths? Why are they divided into worshippers and non-worshippers? Why is it not enough for the gods that we are good to be human? Why should I be punished just because I don't worship something I can't see, does that make sense? The more I think and question, the more I turn into someone my environment doesn't want, but what if that's what I want. Why do I always think, why do I always have to say yes? Why is that?

For some people, questioning is good because it improves them and they are not judged by others. But what about me here? I can't speak out. Not only with these questions, I'm tired of thinking and preoccupying myself with tons of burdens that these questions bring, what if my environment doesn't accept me, what if I make everything more shitty. These questions are starting to keep me awake. Either there is no answer or I can't find it.

As I struggle with these thoughts, nausea appears. My feet are moving independently of me. I could swear that my feet are guiding me right now, not my brain. When my feet stop at a point, my brain, which can only think halfway, enters through what it thinks is a door. And that's where it all ends. It's like my brain is playing tricks on me.

That's all I remember from last night. I smile to myself for being able to come home with such a faint head. But I have a problem. I'm in a house, but it's not my house. The paint in the house looks like the paint in my house. The paintings on the wall, the pot on the console and the statue of Libertas... It looks like my house, but I'm sure it's not my house.

I stop examining the house and look for a person but I can't find one. After making sure that no one is there, I decide to leave and yes, again a problem, the door is locked. I look everywhere I can see, drawers, under the couch, pillowcases but no, no key. I go out to the balcony thinking that maybe I can jump but I am in the penultimate apartment of a five-story apartment building. The possibilities run through my head, if I jump I might hit my head, at best I'll survive with fractures and scratches. But this is the best possibility.

Finally, I come in through the balcony and sit on a sofa, sorting questions in my head. How did I get here, whose house is it, did someone bring it, if so, why isn't it there, why is the house locked, why am I not allowed to leave? These thoughts get on my nerves. I look for a phone, a means of communication, but there is none. It is as if something wants to suppress me, to restrict me. I stand up again. I look at the opposite apartment through the door hole, which I think is about 1.5 cm. A wooden door painted blue and symbols painted on the door, probably by the landlord. Thanks to this door, which is both far and close to me, I get away from my thoughts a little. I knock on the door a few times in case anyone hears me, but no. I can't get out of this damn place. I go to the couch again and lie down this time.

INT. BEDROOM - DAY

It's a typical cluttered bedroom with dirty clothes overflowing from the laundry basket, empty soda cans and energy drinks lying on the ground, the bed sheet and comforter are undone.

MICHAEL (late teens), a tad slender and wearing a worn out T-shirt and equally worn out jeans, as he sits at a desk across from his bed on his desktop.

He's frantically typing at his laptop and pulls up in the search engine: "THE HUNTER WORRY WOODS."

The webpage pulls up to an article with the heading saying: "THE HUNTER OF WORRY WOODS: REAL OR LEGEND?"

He leans back in his chair and rubs his chain as his eyes dart across the article. He leans forward and scrolls down the article and comes across a picture that says "IMAGE NOT FOUND."

MICHAELWhat the hell?

He clicks on the picture. The loading screen goes idle momentarily before it finishes loading, only to show "IMAGE NOT FOUND" again.

Michael shakes his head and exits out of the picture and out of the article.He climbs out of his chair and maneuvers his way around his pigsty room and out to the-

INT. KITCHEN - DAY

Michael's MOM (late 40s) is running around the kitchen, quickly putting dishes and other various kitchenware away. The sink, however, is still filled with dirty dishes.

Michael walks in and stands beside a table nearby. He looks down at it and notices a picture of him, his mom, and his dad. The photo has his dad's signature on it and is dated 5 years ago.

Michael sighs as he walks up to his mom. She's oblivious to him standing there until he clears his throat. She jumps and smiles.

MICHAEL'S MOMOh, Michael! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there.

MICHAELIt's alright, mom.(beat)Oh, Janet is gonna be driving all of us when we go up camping today.

MICHAEL'S MOMOh? That was today?

MICHAELYeah. She'll be driving since well, I don't have a car yet and Phil and May only have their permits.

Michael's mom finishes putting stuff away and sits down at the table.Michael takes a seat across from her.

MICHAEL'S MOMYou already got your stuff packed?

MICHAELYeah, everything's in my luggage in my room.

MICHAEL'S MOMYou got bug spray? Extra clothes? A sleeping bag?

MICHAELMom, I promise I made sure to pack everything I needed. My friends are bringing extra stuff too, just in case. Phil is bringing a couple of tents that his parents bought.

His mom looks over at the picture of the three of them. Michael can see her eyes tearing up, but she quickly wipes them and exhales.

MICHAELMom, everything will be okay.(beat)I promise.

Suddenly, somebody knocks on the front door. Michael gets up from the table and answers. It's JANET. (also late teens)

She's wearing a thin black T-shirt with matching fishnet leggings and black boots. She's also got a matching choker around her neck.

She smiles at Michael and he smiles back. Michael's mom waves at her from the kitchen and Janet waves back.

MICHAELI'mma go grab my stuff real quick.

JANETDon't keep us waiting though. You know how Phil is!

Michael runs into his room and back out with his luggage in the blink of an eye. He goes over and gives his mom a hug.

MICHAELLove you, mom. I'll be back in a couple days.

MICHAEL'S MOMLove you too, Michael. Stay safe!

Michael walks out the front door with Janet and closes the door.

EXT. JANET'S CAR - DAY

Her car matches her look. It's a shiny steel black SUV, looks like it had just gone through the car wash. Michael looks at the backseat and notices PHIL'S face squished against the window, staring at Michael and smiling, sitting behind MAY, who's in the passenger seat.

Phil (mid teens), is Asian-American, and he's wearing a tropical designed button up shirt with fitting swim trunks with pineapples on them.

May (also mid teens), is African-American, wearing a neon pink tank top and jean shorts. She's got several vibrant bracelets on her wrists that she's currently fiddling and playing with.

Michael smiles back and climbs into the backseat next to Phil. They both high five and whoop as Janet climbs into the driver's seat and starts driving to their camping spot.

PHILBruh, you should see the shit that I brought!

MICHAELYou mean aside from those Walmart brand tents?

PHILUh, yeah!

Phil reaches into his luggage on the floor in front of him and pulls out a 20 gauge 22" shotgun. Michael almost jumps, but his jaw drops.

MICHAELThat thing better not be loaded, dude!

MAYDon't worry, Janet already checked. Phil was lucky it wasn't loaded since he forgot to turn the safety off.

Michael gives Phil a look and Phil just shrugs as he puts the shotgun back into his luggage.

MICHAELI think we're being a little too cautious.

PHILBruh, there's no such thing as too cautious!

JANETEspecially not where we're camping at!

MICHAELOh? You never told me where exactly we were going. Which place did you pick?

May looks back at him and smiles.

MAYShe got one of the best camping spots around!(beat)A spot in Worry Woods!

Michael shakes his head slowly and May nods her head.

MICHAELYou can't be serious. People don't camp there for a reason!

JANETRelax, dude. It's only for a couple nights and besides, everyone knows there's no such thing as "The Hunter."

Michael frowns at Phil and punches him in the arm. Phil yelps in pain and rubs his arm.

PHILI'm sorry, dude, but they were gonna find out eventually.

EXT. WORRY WOODS - NIGHT

The sky is filled with scattered stars glittering as the moon shines upon the teens. The trees surround them as the wind gives a slight breeze.

Phil and Janet are setting up their tents while May and Michael are grabbing extra supplies from Janet's car. Michael looks to his left and sees the sign "BEWARE OF HUNTER."

Michael lets out a frustrated sigh as he sets some supplies down beside one of the tents. A flashlight, a first aid kit, and a small case of waters.

May sets down her supplies next to the other tent. Another flashlight, a case of batteries, a backpack of various snacks, and some ammo for Phil's shotgun.

JANETDid anyone else bring something useful against animals? Besides Phil with his gun?

MICHAELI have my pocket knife with me, but that won't really do much.

PHILDon't you or May usually have a can of mace on you, Janet?

JANETMine ran out and May forgot hers... again.

May throws her arms up in frustration.

MAYI was in a hurry, okay?

PHILHere.

Phil finishes setting up his tent and shows it off to everyone.

PHILNow that my masterpiece is finished, who wants to help get some firewood?

Nobody responds and Phil just sighs and shrugs as he starts walking.

PHILLooks like I'm gonna go off by myself then.(beat)All alone... in the dark and scary woods!

JANETAlright, fine! If it'll make you shut the hell up.

Janet stops working on her tent and starts following Phil further into the woods. Michael and May stay awkwardly silent for a bit longer.

MAYI take it you haven't camped for a while?

MICHAELYou remember what happened to my dad?

MAYOh, I'm- I'm so sorry.

Michael exhales sharply as he crouches down onto one knee and stares off into the woods.

CUT TO:Phil and Janet continue walking, progressively getting slower with each minute, as they keep looking around intently, examining the woods heavily.

PHIL(sing-song)We're going to die out here!

JANETKnock it off, dude.

PHIL(sing-song)The Hunter is coming for you!

JANETShut the hell up, Phil!

Just when Phil flinches, he looks up and notices several skulls hanging from branches by ropes. Janet gasps as she looks at each one.

Rustling is heard from nearby. Janet and Phil both jump and look in the direction from which the noise came. Phil takes a couple step forward.

JANET(whispering)What are you doing?! Don't get closer!

Phil faces Janet.

PHIL(whispering)What's the worst that could happen?

Suddenly, we hear-PHEW! THUNK!

An arrowhead is piercing through Phil's chest from behind. He gasps and looks down as it starts bleeding a bit. Janet screams as Phil falls face first, dead.

Then another-PHEW! THUNK! Faster than before.

An arrow goes into Janet's mouth and impales her through the brain stem. She falls face first onto the ground, dead with the bloody arrow sticking out the back of her neck.

CUT TO:Michael and May are standing side by side looking in the direction where Janet's scream came from. Michael is in panic mode and May is weeping as quietly as her body lets her.

Michael quickly pulls out her miniature pocket knife and holds it up defensively as he takes a single step forward. An ear-piercing shriek comes from a distance.Michael and May both cover their ears from the horrific noise.

MICHAEL(yelling)Who are you?!(beat)Show yourself!

KA-SHEEN!Michael and May both gasp as Michael turns to face May, who now has a large machete impaling her through the chest. Michael screams and cries as May's dead body falls onto its side.

Something approaches Michael as he sobs next to May's body. It rips the machete from her chest and growls at Michael. He looks up and is immediately petrified at what he sees. THE HUNTER.

It wears a heavy leather jacket, thick jeans and black hiking boots, and it wields a holstered rifle on its back alongside a crossbow and bloody machete in its hands.Its face is hideously scarred and horribly burned all around. It has a slash across one of its eyes and its teeth are beyond crooked and rotten.

MICHAEL(weakly)You're real...(beat)You're fucking real...

It roars viciously at Michael before Michael stabs The Hunter in the knee with his pocket knife.

The Hunter shrieks as Michael rips the knife out and stabs The Hunter in the chest. The Hunter roars again before Michael yanks the bloody knife out and makes a run for it.

The Hunter loads its crossbow and aims it at Michael as he makes it into Janet's car in the driver's seat. The Hunter fires an arrow, but it barely misses Michael.

Michael yelps from the arrow almost hitting as he slams the door shut and opens the glove box, searching frantically for the keys, until he finally finds them and starts the car.

Michael shifts the car into drive instead of reverse as The Hunter pulls out its rifle and aims it at Michael.

Michael floors it as The Hunter cocks the rifle and continues aiming. Michael quickly ducks his head down just a second before The Hunter fires.

The bullet flies right through the windshield and hitting the head of the seat just above Michael and the car rams into The Hunter, knocking it backward into a tree.

Michael shifts gears into reverse and maneuvers his way out of the ominous forest and out through the way he and his friends came in.

CUT TO:

EXT. MAIN ROAD - NIGHT

Michael is wiping tears away as he is speeding down the road, getting as far away from Worry Woods as possible. His tears eventually dry up as he stares off at the road.

Flashes of his friends keep hitting his mind, but all he does is shakes his head a bit and focuses on the road, now completely unfazed.

EXT. WORRY WOODS - NIGHT

The Hunter is still lying on the ground from when Michael ran into it with Janet's car. The body remains unmoved until its eyes suddenly pop open.

It slowly gets onto its feet and lets out its blood-curdling shriek once again. It places the rifle and crossbow back in their holsters as it approaches May's dead body.

It growls at the corpse as it leans down, grabs one of the legs, and starts dragging it deeper into the woods, just like the other bodies, never to be seen again.

THE END