Salt stings the noses of the small band of survivors crossing a narrow channel of calm, crimson stained water. Smoke bellows from where they came and ash lightly falls through the heavy fog. The men cough and tremble, each of them are scared in some way. Captain Wayland sits at the helm of the ship that carries fifteen men including himself. Many of them are too wounded to sit, let alone stand. The ones that do sit and stand, endure the odor of their comrades’ burnt flesh rising up to their noses. Captain Wayland drifts back and forth as blood runs down his chin, he gently looks upward. The tight vein of water is enclosed by large walls of stone, sharpened like the spears of giants. The fog and smoke lay a blanket over the sky dripping ash through the air and into the men’s lounges. He wipes the blood from his jaw and looks down towards his soldiers that shiver and cry.
Living in an institution all her life, Eve has no reason to believe things are more than they appear as her day continues, though things are definitely changing...
It isn't just Transformers that are robots in disguise, does #Pixar's Wall-E also feature a machine with ulterior motives? Under the surface of the feel-good tale about star-crossed lovers was a political commentary on health and the planet, however, beneath that, does there bubble and even darker tale of #horror and homicide?
A dark city sat in the middle of a dark forest, moonlight shining on a massive fortress. Guards patrolled the streets, keeping their eyes open. Howling could be heard outside the city, making guards look outside the wall, pricking their ears up and listening. Deep within the castle a tower sat, and a single light shone in the window. A man sat on his bed, holding his sword in his hands. He had golden hair, and brown eyes, which were scanning outside. He was muscular and wore silver armor, his body tense as if waiting for something.
Constantine Grigorov thought that the merciless wind would freeze him to death. If he wasn’t dead already.
Love is no small thing in the supernatural world, even if the word is much different. Love in the supernatural world signifies a lifelong bond rather than a fleeting feeling. If you lose the one you love, it hurts less to simply flee the world and never return. For a vampire, life becomes tiring. If they have no person to love, then there is no purpose to life—not that we necessarily need a purpose to live. It just hurts to go on living without someone by your side to make it interesting. And when a vampire gets bored, entire civilizations could wind up burnt to the ground. Or you may never see their face again—either dead or waiting to die. Purebloods become bored easily, and often sleep for long periods of time. Hundreds or even thousands of years. If they are awoken from their slumber by someone they do not wish to see or do not know, the offender will become something like a midnight snack.
The youth sat uncomfortably in the back of the police car. He reached down and stuck a finger under the band holding his tracking device to his ankle. It had not blown him up because his police escort, Officers Machowsky and Darell, had called in to say that he had been picked up for parole duty.
The purple fuzzy creature ate a bowl of cereal as she sat on my bed with me, using a tiny spoon that seemed perfect for her tiny little hands. As she's eating, I couldn't help but wonder if she ever slept at all. Not that I didn't believe that she didn't sleep, but she had no eyelids over her eyes. It was kind of interesting, the fact that she was alive and had no eyelids at all. If she did sleep, how would she be sleeping?