Hustino

The flames billowed, enveloping his surroundings. The fire—as great as it were—did nothing to him; he felt no heat, no pain; no sense of the warmth pervaded his senses whatsoever, as if the bright, fiery inferno was nothing more than harmless colors and lights swirling about in the air. The only light came from the fires around him, as it were the pit of night and not even a star shone, as if hiding from some danger. The moon was gone, as well, deciding it better to leave mortal matters to man. The area was no place he remembered; he knew not of how he came to be in such a place. More curious than worried, he inspected his surroundings; the

"I'm going to kill him, then I'm going to beat his body, then I'm going to find someone to revive him, then I'm going to kill him again," the typically gruff and currently quite-peeved voice came from the short (figuratively speaking, of course) leather-clad figure. "Aww, c'mon, bro, it's not that bad," the much larger man next to her said, as he gently poked another girl (one much more apparently so) in front of him as she dozed off every few seconds. "Bo, we watched the sun rise." Actr'd's eyes grew wide, as if re-experiencing some petrifying memory within her mind, and she lurched on Bo's collar, bringing him down to her own height. "We.

The twin suns were high in the sky, showering the already heat-stricken, dry world with far more warmth than was necessary or enjoyable. The land, the sky, the people—everything was parched; an unquenchable thirst shared by the very planet itself. It was a desolate, tiring existence, constantly being under the fire of those twin suns that never seemed to give the planet a rest or even lighten up a little. The world was a dry, dry scorching place and that day was no exception. But I didn't really give a crap about that. I was too busy (meaning distracted by) keeping an eye on a certain spiky-haired gunman and making sure nothing happened (me

Dank sweat covered him from brow to heel. His chest heaved and his eyes burned; even so, he strained to look into the dark, seemingly silent forest surrounding him. Nothing. Surrounded by trees and watched over by the dark sky speckled with stars, he realized he was alone. There was no fire, no victims, no bloodshed. No sound but his own haggard breathing broke the silence of the night. He was alone. Excruciatingly alone. He looked to his hand; it was his hand: five fingers, pale skin, dirty nails—not the three-taloned, gory, carnivorous claw. Clenching the hand he had feared to glance upon only moments before, he placed the fist against

It's amazing just how easily swayed the human mind can be. At one moment, it can feel the greatest joy and in another instant it can experience the worst fear or sadness. What's more intriguing is the fact that the mind is so suseptible to emotion that even when presented with the greatest mass of logic and proof contradicting it, the emotions can override that logic and proof and do nothing but push the mind further away from reality. This in and of itself is a problem. The mind is the sole link we as humans have to reality--the real world, the truth, whatever one may label it as--and yet that binding and connection that should be so stron

Hailing  from a land beyond our sight, tales,  legends, and myths  abound, speaking of villainous kings and demons of unholy might; of disastrous wars and prophesized calamities; of helpless, imprisoned maidens and their captors: evil magicians wielding archaic magic and dark knights of horrendous strength. And of courageous heroes and wise sages, wielding sacred weapons and holy magic to dispel the plagues of darkness bound to the worlds. Their valor and wisdom cutting a swath through the feared might of the tribe of evil, coming to the aid of the people in the darkest of hours. The far land speaks of the birth of all: three goddesses, wie

She pleaded—begged—to herself, to any being that could possibly listen upon and lend help. This summons to her master was as any other: her heart and body aching, hoping for some sort of praise. A sense of pride upon the face of her beloved master, at the very least. Nothing made her more joyous. She had been lost, useless, living no more than a prolonged death until her master found her. She had been taught her worth, given a meaning, a purpose—she had been saved—and being called into her master's presence always reminded her of that fact. The purpose she had received was one to be proud of, carrying out her master's wishes, as an extensi