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When the clock's tintinabulate is at it's twelfth hour of life, the piceous, rancorous dark of night night awakens it's resting eyes; the wolve's cries echo toward the ghostly galleon nonsubmersible upon a tempestuous, dark, azure sea. The faceless ones circumnavigate, with their wings gaunt and impaired; noses, ears and eyes not to be espied – not a place to be found. They schlepp me to I know not where, the gelidity on my spine suggests a desolate fen with wicked trees and odious smells. Heedless of my pleading to go back they do not care for their ears are nowhere; but only somewhere in the dark, just waiting to be found. Their lurid

THE BANE OF PHARANUX: The great dragon thane Written in the style of Beowulf A tale unfolds    Three, bloody, brutal, odious and merry eras passed in Xarlfier (Xarlfier is the great continent of six races; Laxor ((bird-men)), Sarlfar ((fish-men)), Orcs, Men, Elves and Dwarves). It was now the fourth era, officially announced fourth when Emperor Marskor III met his dismal demise; sad really. But only two hundred years flew by since the encasing of Pharanux (“The Dragon Thane”, also known as “The Great Dragon Thane”), the fatuous wizard who encased the dragon, sealed him within thick layers of black stone coated with

Insanity When the chime is at it's twelfth hour of life, the ominous night awakens it's resting eyes; the wolve's cries echo toward the ghostly galleon floating upon a tempestuous sea. The faceless ones fly, with their wings gaunt and torn; noses, ears and eyes not to be discovered – not a place to be found. They carry me to I know not where, the chills on my spine suggest a desolate fen with wicked trees and odious smells. Heedless of my pleading to go back they do not care for their ears are nowhere; but only somewhere in the dark, just waiting to be found. Their screeches and screams, although not my chattel, lay upon my shoulders a

"A game of riddles with the Devil" The clock chimed it's twelfth stroke of night. I sat in the gloom of my candle lit room, with my tables laden with tattered books filled with lost lore. Ones of great rarity, the ones not able to find any more. My great love for books has an unbreakable bond, neither arrow nor knife is able to pierce the bond's chain. But there I pondered whilst reading a large tome covered in small questions and answers, a book of riddles. I memorized every riddle in the book, there wasn't even a nook of it that I didn't remember. Seldom did I read my riddle books. Then came a tapping, it was like an audience clapping.

Summer is a glittering gold, a serene gift. One from the gods of the old and men of the wise. Like a Christmas present, Summer shreds her wrappings revealing the unseen basket of blossoming flowers and merry melodies; natures prize. One must enjoy Summer while they can, for her innocent vistas can be swept away by the woeful cries of her sister, Autumn. Her wrath is fierce and sorrow immense, enough to strike pain in to the leaves of Summer's trees. Begging and crying to be Summer and rejected to continue her reign of wistfulness, she moans and turns hostile, taking her power out on the living. But she will not rule the world for much longer

Tale 1 The thing Massachusetts 1928 It had been a long day of trying to make myself comfortable on the filthy bus and it was getting late. I got off at a small town called Rockmouth in Massachusetts, I stood looking around at the location I was in. "Hey! Are you going to move or what?" the bus driver spat at me. Due to his terrible, crackling voice I advanced forward. The town was dull and falling apart, dirt fell from the smashed up windows and the wooden doors of the buildings rotted with maggots crawling out of them; the stench of deceased corpses was the worst thing about the eerie environment. I glanced towards one of the residents

  Chapter 1                                                           A new discovery In the long distant year of 1802, when the world was turning to a more industrial side, a rather large manor sat in the more peaceful areas of towns. It rested in the green hills of London's countryside, hidden by Hazel trees and lots of Oaks, at this time of the year the bark was a beautiful, rough taint of brown. And the Hazel tree's leaves fell with soft whistles, as if they were birds singing, Summertime was truly marvelous here. The ponds in the front garden glistened in the soft breeze emerging from the agile white clouds. A small child's swing cove

Shane just couldn’t sleep he had trouble sleeping knowing that it was the last week of training and that he and preston and taylor would be assigned a mission together, he looked over at those two then he decided to go to sleep. The next morning came a little too soon since the drill sergeant came in “Alright everyone…get up…its time for your graduations and field assignments…” Shane and everyone else in the barracks got ready for the big assignments. “and I need to see you three all together” said the drill sergeant “I have something big for the three of you” shane looked at

Don't I’m falling to peices and I don’t know why. I have hundreds of reasons to let out a sigh i’m covered in relics of the past long ago suddenly things I knew I just don’t know I’m falling to peices and I don’t know why I’m so confused, I can’t help but cry i’m covered in pain and sickness, no health It isn’t fair, I can’t be myself I’m falling to peices and I don’t know why I have hundreds of reasons to lay down and die