Austin was a simple boy who did not attract anybody’s interest. He did not mind about this as well, for he was fine alone. But that was changed when he became a first former in university. It was the start of a new term, and he went to school with high hopes, hoping for a fresh beginning. Suddenly, he was attracted by a cheerful laugh which broke the air. A new good looking girl ran past him, and she caught his eyes straight away. He liked her a lot, and was craving for knowing her more. It soon turned out that she was a newcomer, and was going to be in her class for the rest of the year.  Austin was hoping to be seen by her, and tried to change himself. He tried so hard, but the new girl did not even look at him. One day, the new girl approached him. Austin’s heart fluttered and he was so excited for that moment!

In this thing alone

I’m an auditorium with no one in the seats

I’m the speaker on the stage with no one to listen

No one there to hear what i have to say

No one there to care

But then again… why should they

Why should they have to sit in those empty seats

Just to get to know me

Sure i got a crew but that shit don’t matter to you

No one cares what i’m going through

All that matters to them is the scoop

The news, the gossip

I’m in this thing alone like i always have been

But maybe i need some one to chime in and maybe i need someone to step in line and ask me whats going on

Are you ok

Is everything alright

Maybe i need someone to fill in the seats in my empty auditorium maybe I need to know i'm not alone. Maybe I need someone to speak up and help me. Maybe I need someone to understand.

To understand me understand the things i’m going through

I feel like a fish drowning in water

Drowning in sorrow and regret

No one to save me

Or grab me out this miserable sea of tears

I’ll just keep drifting and drifting until i  drift so far away

i completely vanish from existence

But maybe i want to vanish

Maybe its the best thing to do

Like and comment!

Thanks for reading! <3

“As the hours pass and the ashes fall, the storm fades and leaves you now, what remains- an ever mess, that life is gone, forever more.”

A figure drowned in shades of gray pressed forward in the midst of a black abyss, their coat tails streaming behind them with each and every step, darkness pressing outward from within and advancing their state. In the light their figure would illuminate a brilliant white, utterly spotless, with only the blackness engulfing their form present- short their face. Half of their face was visible, the hood and shadow cast by their cloak of gray shrouding the top portion above the nostrils. Only a partial scowl visible protruding on pale skin, a lip curled down protruding an air of disgust in the form of their frown.

Their steps echoed, metallic with each clunk, echoing off of iron walls. A glimmer of brown hair, or perhaps a very dark dirty blond, swaying around and over their cheeks. Lights up above continued to flicker, old and rusted warehouse overhang lights. Bulbs cracked, some dimmer than dim and even a little reddish. It was a hallway they prowled forward through, gliding like a serpent through the corridor in light and dark.

As the figure rounded a turn the fabric of their cloak flapped, a gloved hand raising up and wielding a mask. A mask, blank in expression, and overall relatively dull. The only features of true note- a black and white star upon the forehead, surrounded in a red and magenta painted flame. And then the scar over the right eye, diagonal right across, carved into the mask rather than being painted like the flame.

The mask was placed to their face, the hood pushed back ever so revealing their masked face entirely now. The hair, shown again in the light, now silvery white- a lone sapphire blue right eye somewhat aglow beneath that mask and very much visible. And as the lights went out yet again their form would be mostly obscured, short of part of their wardrobe, and the entirety of that mask which remained visible even in the darkness itself.

The end of the hall neared, evident by the creaking of metal and a door opening, shining a dim light upon the now-masked entity. Their steps changed, no longer thudding echoes, instead clanking as they stepped out upon a catwalk one and then two. The hatch open and to their right. Around them, several identical individuals of white hair, blue eyes the same as the figure’s right, though all of them were cloaked in black robes with red stars etched upon the shoulders, chest, and back.

Rain pounded the metal sheet roof of the outside, cascading echoes sent in. This figure themself bore a white cloak, patterned with a different symbol entirely- almost appearing to be an eye with tendrils. Their head tilted forward and their gaze moved outwards, off of the catwalk. The entire surrounding room was nothing more than a rusted worn down factory. Equipment in disrepair lay all around, broken glass scattered across the floor, ceiling panels dead upon the ground; though that is not what this figure was taking in.

Down on the factory floor before them were several more in black. Unlike the multiple lookalikes standing with the masked figure, those on the floor were all somewhat custom. One man, dressed as a gentleman with a cloak draped around their shoulders, appearing rather elderly with long gray hair. Another, a woman of blood red hair, dressed in a skintight black jumpsuit with a shortcut black jacket over top and black shorts, the former of which held red stars over each of her shoulders. And then in the middle a man in a black long coat decked with silver fur wherever the fabric ended, patterned with the dark red stars.

The last man with a lone left amber-colored eye, stared up at the masked figure. This man’s expression was particularly sour, scowling- his wavy brown hair covering one eye and casting shadow over the other. Behind them, several dozen SWAT-dressed people in nothing but black, the same red star patterned across their chests front and center. The masked figure’s eye narrowed into a fine almost-glaring glare. Water dripped through the broken roof above, streams of it dripping down and pooling as puddles on the factory floor.

“Leon,” they spoke, a relatively hoarse and distorted, deep-pitched masculine voice, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You know damn well what this is about Cylux- your little alliance with that bastard Arkaza. When did you think it appropriate to tell us, eh?!” Leon spat, his tone full of rage.

“Ah, so you’ve come all of this way just to discuss that,” the masked figure replied.

“Heh, ‘discuss’ he says, yeah we can go with that,” the woman chuckled to herself.

Leon then stepped forward, his right arm shot out, pointer finger pointing straight at Cylux, the look of total and excessive rage looming, “Your use of Arkaza, and the very essence of what you did with Azala, it is sickening. The Hive will no longer require your services as a result of your actions… and… because we can not allow for a loose end to continue lingering, we’re here to ensure that no threats befall us in the near future.”

“Hoh?” Cylux replied, unmoved, “So you’ve come all this way just to kill me? So I see; though I would very much implore you to reconsider your position here, Leon Sycamore. Do not forget that this is not yourplaying field, you’ve entered the unknown that is my dwelling.”

At once, all eight of the lookalikes stepped forward, their hair covering their eyes as they stopped at the edge of the catwalk, overlooking the Dharkanians below. The SWATs backed up a touch while the woman and the older man stepped forward, side by side with their leader, the leader of whom was now scanning the lookalikes- “Art of Dancing Shadows eh?”

“Considering your aim moving forward… anything you seek to accomplish here will not be without cost. Are you in a position to proceed with such risk that may compromise your grand plan? I would reconsider this one, old friend.”

“Nrrgh… Cortez, Tori, with me. Our combined might will be more than enough. Look alive!”

Without another word, all three shot high into the air, all with single leaps, all jetting ahead, all aimed right at the bodies and Cylux. And as they closed in the eight did not waiver, nor did Cylux, whose head simply lowered, their narrowed gaze turned into a glare. At once all of the lookalikes dropped low, their right hands touching the walk- and then BAM, out they flew, leaving the masked figure behind who simply gazed out. The three and the eight, launching for one another, not another word spoken in that moment short of the thoughts racing in their heads.

“Conflict in life is inevitable. The fire is fanned by our interactions with the world. From the flames we rise anew. We are grown by it, shaped by it, guided by it. A world of peace will never be an option- for if it were, we as humans would no longer evolve as people. Though when a fire grows out of control and ravages the lands, it falls to the cosmos or individuals to fight back those flames before they consume everything. With the fates holding out, it leaves only the latter, and for someone to move forward to answer the call.”

hey this is my 1st ever blog (but who rlly cares?). my name's Cameron, I write stuff, I'm pansexual. my BFF died last year. I don't have a lot to say. I guess I'm just doing this cos there's not much else to do except stare at the ceiling. tell me, someone, have you ever thought about madness? Like, will I know when I go crazy? I guess that's what this is. I lost all my friends, my family disowned me, I don't have pets anymore. there's no one to talk to, so I'm doing this.I'm finding a way to amuse myself while I wonder how crazy I am.Well, that's a fun thought. I'm serious though.gtg but if you read this, pls comment and...yeah. bye

On the day of the eclipse is the best day for a witch's spell. For those four minutes of total darkness. Magic goes nuts. Well, that’s what Rose knows from what her mother told her. Now Rose is working on her own ritual, she really hopes it will work. On the day of the eclipse Rose sets everything up and starts the spell. But something goes wrong, the spell didn’t work. She went to her mom crying about and her mom explained it has to be when it’s totally eclipsed. Rose’s mom carries Rose back to the ritual room and tries the spell when the sun is covered. This time it works Rose is over the moon that it works. Spell she was working on is a spell where you can see a rainbow at night. She’s so happy it finally worked. Roses mother is very proud of her too. The end.

Eighty paces to freedom.

She ran. As hard as she could, she ran.

The forest was only a few feet away. If she could just make it there, she might have a chance.

She burst into the trees and continued her mad dash without slowing down. The trees were thick, and the moonlight couldn't penetrate the leafy canopy. But that didn't matter – she could see perfectly well even in near total blackness. She jumped over stumps and gnarled roots hidden in the thick leaves on the ground, even as she continued her breakneck sprint. She knew they were still behind her, and she couldn't let them catch her. She knew what would happen if they did.

Over stones, under branches. Finally, she found a hollow under a half-dead sycamore. She tucked herself into the smallest ball she could and huddled inside.

This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a simple, easy night. She'd been downtown, stalking in the shadows. A man was walking past the streetlamp and she'd followed him. She didn't know why she'd done it; she knew it was foolish. Rumors of witchcraft had been flying around town, and hadn't they justfinished the trial for that Sarah woman from up the hill? What hadshe been thinking?

The answer was obvious: she'd been thinking about blood. She'd been thinking about the sweet, metallic taste and how nice it would be to have his blood coursing through her veins. She hadn'tbeen thinking about how Old Mrs. Williams would be peering through her window, trying to figure out which of the neighborhood boys had been stealing the fruit from her apple tree each night.

She heard the shouts from the mob and saw the glow from their torches as they closed the distance. She pushed herself further into the hollow. Mentally, she prepared herself, hoping her trial would be shorter than Spinster Sarah's. The mob grew ever louder, and she could see the torch flames flicking through the trees. She was sure they would discover her. But they didn't. Somehow, they passed her by, still screaming about the demon who'd attacked poor Mr. Jefferies.

She stayed there, curled under that tree long after the shouts had faded away, not daring to move. It wasn't until she noticed that the sky was just the faintest shade lighter that she got up; she had to be home before the sun rose.

She looked around, getting her bearings. She was deep in the forest. She estimated it to be about half an hour out of the trees to her bedroom window if she sprinted as fast as she had last night. But she'd be lucky if she had half that amount of time before the sun was shining ominously over the valley.

She rushed through the forest, trying not to think of how this had somehow seemed so much easier in the adrenaline-fueled pitch-black. As she broke through the tree line, she could see the ashy gray of a predawn morning. The sun would be up shortly.

So now, it was decision time. Did she run back into the woods? Find a place to hide and hope the sun didn't touch her? Would the trees even hide her? What would she do if the shadows weren't deep enough to shield her as the sun arched across the sky?

Or would she make a run for it across the field? Her house wasn't that far – she could see it from here, standing patiently at the edge of town. Once she was inside, she'd definitely be safe; the sun would never be able to penetrate her tightly-drawn curtains. But did she have enough time?

She decided to chance it. She didn't want to spend what little time she had left wandering the woods, looking for a hiding spot that might not even be there. And even if she did find something, would it remain in shadow for the entire day? Could she really afford to take that chance? But if she was going to go, she'd have to go now. Her odds sank with each passing second, and if she waited any longer, she'd be caught for sure as she ran through the grass. It was already going to be down to the wire as it was.

She was halfway across the field when she saw the first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon. She stopped, watching in a kind of fascinated horror as the sliver of sun grew. There was no point in running any more; she'd failed. The last thing she would ever see was going to be that pink-orange glow. She guessed there were worse sights.

She looked around the field at the edge of town, taking it all in one last time. She'd grown up in this house, in this town. Her father used to till this very field when she was a child. Then, her brother after him. As the rosy light warmed the earth around her, a thought occurred to her: she was fine. She hadn't burst into flames or crumbled into ash. Nothing had happened to her at all.

She thought back, trying to remember who had told her that vampires couldn't be out in the sun. Was it Joseph? Maybe it was Fredrick. It almost certainly wasn't Emma. But whoever it was, it was now painfully obvious that they'd lied. But why? What did they gain from it? Control? Joseph already had plenty of that.

She wondered if he'd lied to all of them on purpose. Maybe he simply didn't know. But how could something like that escape him? She'd thought he knew everything about this. She decided it didn't really matter if he'd lied intentionally or not: she'd never know for sure anyway. What she did know was that this opened up a whole world of possibilities that she'd thought had been locked shut forever.

She walked into the house with the air of someone who no longer had anything to fear. She glanced around the ground floor, really looking at the house for the first time in years. The furniture was dusty, the piano covered in a sheet. The room smelled musty from years of not being aired out. It looked abandoned. Had she really allowed herself to live like this?

She strode into her bedroom and rummaged through the back of her closet. She found the dusty old suitcase that had been her mother's hidden in the back. She threw it onto the bed and started packing up everything she might need.

She didn't know where she was going exactly. That wasn't the point. Now that she didn't have to be holed up in this stuffy house every single day, she was going to get out and actually see the world – no more living like she was already dead. She had all the time in the world, and she was going to put it to good use.

The sun was well above the horizon as she left the house, locking it one last time. If everything went according to plan, she'd never be back here. And by the time Joseph came to check on her tonight, she'd be long gone.

She walked down the winding cobblestone street, past vendors shouting their wares and crowds gathered around, looking to purchase. She weaved her way through the horde, marveling at how many people actually lived in the town, how alive it all was. She'd been sequestering herself for so long, she'd forgotten how crowded the streets actually were during the daylight. She found herself stopping to browse. She had no need for food any more, but the smells were intoxicating. She stopped at the window of the baker's shop, watching as apprentices rolled and kneaded dough.

She thought about going inside for one of Mrs. Clarke's famous hot cross buns, but thought better of it. She had fond memories of those buns as a child, and she was afraid that the reality wouldn't hold up. Besides, she didn't want to be anywhere near here when the sun went down. She was finally free, and she wasn't going to spend another night trapped in this little town. She could peruse the markets wherever she ended up.

A group of boys passed by her, zooming down the street on strange wooden frames, feet peddling furiously. A woman turned from one of the vendors and was nearly struck; the boy swerved just in the nick of time.

"Hey! Those aren't to be ridden in the middle of the road!" she shouted angrily after them, fist in the air. "I'll tell your father!"

The boys paid her no mind. They just continued through the town, laughing and hollering.

"Excuse me," the naïve vampire said softly, pulling the lady's attention away from the wayward youths. "Can you tell me what those contraptions were?"

"What, their bicycles?" the woman asked.

"Bicycles?" She would have to try one of those – they looked exhilarating. But that would come later.

"Should be banned, I say. Complete and utter chaos. Riding around, all over town. And what for?" The woman continued to grumble to herself, shaking her head and turning away.

The vampire continued down the street, taking in everything around her. The streets meandered lazily towards the center of town, and the buildings rose up in delicate shades of pink, blue, and yellow. She tried to remember how long it had been since she'd seen any of these buildings in the daylight. But even at night, she didn't exactly examine the city around her. Not only was she much more mission-focused then, but she tried to avoid the extra scrutiny that loitering around closed shops would bring.

The sun was high overhead when she reached her destination: the train station. It was a simple, two story brick-red building that looked suspiciously like a former schoolhouse. She walked inside, staring at the murals that had been painted delicately on the ceiling. She'd never been in here before; she'd never left the town. When she was younger, she just didn't seem to have the time. And after she'd been bitten, she'd been too afraid to leave. Even an overnight train seemed too risky. What if it broke down? What if she couldn't find a hotel room fast enough to escape the early morning sun's rays?

She bought a ticket on the first train leaving town. It was to some place out west, some village or other that she'd never heard of. But she didn't care. She wanted to travel – she wanted to go adventuring.And Greenville seemed like the perfect place to start.

She sat down on a bench, content to watch the people all around her. She saw a young couple pushing a pram, and a few young men who looked like they'd recently enlisted. Bits of conversation floated over to her, and she found herself marveling at just how much she'd missed. She'd only been bitten a few years ago. How could the world have changed so much?

A whistle blew, and she looked up. The train was arriving, smoke billowing out behind it. She boarded and made her way down the narrow corridor until she found the small, semi-private compartment where her seat was. She opened the door and saw two velvet-clad benches on opposite ends of the room. They looked so luxurious against the wooden paneling.

The cabin was currently empty, which suited her just fine. She picked a spot in the middle of one of the benches and sat down. The seats weren't quite as plush as they looked, but she didn't let that bother her. She was already going on an adventure, what more could she really ask for? She should be grateful she was even here.

Someone had left a newspaper neatly folded on the seat across from her. She leaned over and casually opened it, scanning the pages as she waited for the train to depart. There were articles about all sorts of fantastical machines that had been invented in recent years. There was a "type writer" that bragged about how it used simple mechanical principles and could take any width of paper. Then there was a mechanical sewing machine with a hooked tambour needle. But what really caught her attention was the story of the airship.

She read hungrily about the wondrous ship that floated through the sky as if by magic. And if this newspaper were to be believed, they could even travel across the entire continent. She turned to the window, watching the trees zip by. She scanned the sapphire sky, looking to see if she might be able to spot one of these airships. She now knew the first thing she'd do once she got to Greenville. Well, after she looked into whether or not they had bicycles there.

The train stopped and started, stopped and started. They traveled for hours, and she was quite content to stare out the window, bewitched by the bright world outside. They passed through forests and fields, through villages and towns. Finally, they approached the city. The door to her compartment whooshed open, and she glanced casually toward the sound. A young man in a fancy overcoat and top hat entered, setting his suitcase on the rack over the seats opposite her. His hat went next to the suitcase.

"Afternoon." the man nodded casually.

"Good afternoon." she replied.

The man sat down as the train started moving again. She regarded him with interest. She wondered where he was going, if he took the train often. It seemed so mundane to him.

"Do you travel often?" she asked him.

"Every weekend." he replied.

"Oh."

Was it the weekend? She hadn't paid attention to that kind of thing back home; it didn't really affect her. Then she added, "I've never been before."

"Really?" The man raised his eyebrows.

"Really." she nodded. She wanted to tell him all about her great plans to travel the world but thought better of it.

The man settled down with a newspaper of his own. He unfolded it with a sharp shake of his wrists and began to read. She turned to look back out the window, making a mental note of every new thing she saw.

Eventually, the man set the paper down on the seat next to him and reached up to grab his hat. He slouched down and put the hat low on his head, shielding his eyes from the light. His breathing slowed, and he started snoring softly.

She watched him sleeping, an idea starting to form in her head. Greenvale was still a long way away, and even after everything that had happened last night, she hadn't gotten to feed. Old Mrs. Williams had spotted her before she'd even gotten to pierce Mr. Jeffries's neck.

Still, she had to be patient. If she thought it would be bad to have the townsfolk catch her, it was nothing compared to the conductor. The train started a gentle slope upward, and she looked out the window yet again. They were starting up the mountain. Perfect. They'd have to get over the pass before the next stop. That wouldn't be for another half an hour least – she'd have more than enough time. And who was she to waste such an opportunity? As long as she didn't take too much blood, everything would be fine. She sat down casually in one of the seats next to the man. As they wound their way up the mountain, she leaned over and smiled, showing her long, thin fangs.

Hey!!!

I'm pretty tired but thats fine. First of go vist my friends acount at Lena Queen.

Also I wrote a Romeo/Juilet short story so if you want it let me know.

Ainslie

Chapter 1: "The Call of Duty"

The city never slept, and neither did they. Alex and Maya, partners in both crime scene cleanup and forensic investigation, stood outside the imposing warehouse, its shadow casting a foreboding presence on the dimly lit street. The flickering lights of emergency vehicles painted the scene in hues of red and blue, a stark contrast to the darkness that enveloped the night. "We've got a 10-55, Alex. Multiple casualties," Maya said, her voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. Alex nodded, his jaw set with determination. "Let's suit up and get in there. We can't afford to waste any time." With practiced efficiency, they donned their protective gear, masks obscuring their faces as they prepared to enter the scene of yet another tragedy. The air was heavy with anticipation, the weight of the unknown pressing down upon them like a suffocating blanket. Inside, the scene was chaotic. Flashing lights illuminated the grim tableau of violence, blood staining the floor in a macabre mosaic. The stench of death hung thick in the air, a nauseating reminder of the horrors that had unfolded within these walls. Their task was twofold: clean up the aftermath of the carnage and ensure that no unauthorized individuals contaminated the evidence. With gloved hands and meticulous attention to detail, they set to work, each movement deliberate and purposeful. As they worked, meticulously collecting samples and cataloging evidence, a disturbance at the perimeter caught their attention. A group of shadowy figures attempted to breach the police cordon, their intentions clear. Without hesitation, Alex and Maya sprang into action, intercepting the intruders before they could compromise the integrity of the crime scene. "Back off! This is an active investigation," Alex commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The intruders faltered, confronted by the steely resolve in Alex's gaze and the unwavering determination of Maya at his side. Reluctantly, they retreated into the night, their plans thwarted by the vigilant guardians of justice. As the first light of dawn broke over the city, Alex and Maya surveyed the scene one final time. Amidst the chaos, they discovered the victims—a tragic tableau of lives cut short by violence. The body of a young woman lay sprawled on the ground, her lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Beside her, a man slumped against a wall, a single gunshot wound to the chest marking the abrupt end of his existence. "It's senseless, Alex. Every time we come to these scenes, it's just senseless," Maya said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "I know, Maya. But this is why we do what we do. To bring closure to the families, to seek justice for the victims," Alex replied, his tone equally solemn. Maya sighed, her shoulders sagging beneath the weight of their shared burden. "I just wish there was more we could do. More we could change." "We can't change what's already happened," Alex said, his voice firm. "But we can make sure those responsible are held accountable. And maybe, just maybe, we can prevent it from happening again." After looking at the crime scene, Maya and Alex start to clean up and put their belongings inside a box. As they closed the boxes, Maya asked Alex " Hey, Alex. What were their names again?"   " I think it was Mark and Annie?"  Alex replied. Maya, after Alex gave her their names, started to write on the box, Alex notices what Maya was doing and asked her what she was doing, Maya replied "Well, I was thinking that we should write their names on the box of their belongings, just for the remembrance for their family, give em one last gift, y'know?"  Alex nods and begins to write the couple's names on the box and cleaned up the mess inside the apartment and left. They brought the small boxes and placed in on the shelf as they drove to the funeral home. As they arrived, they open the back of the van and get the boxes from the shelves. After they take out the boxes, they open the door of the funeral home and greet the grieving families, they pay their respects to the fallen and gave the families the boxes of belongings from their children. As they hear the sorrows from both families, the two cleaners couldn't help but feel bad about the situation they're in. They enter the van then drive to their house. As they were driving, Maya was sitting in the passenger seat, feeling all down because of what happened earlier. Alex then tries to comfort her and focuses on driving, but then, something bad happened, the tires of their van were punctured! Alex and Maya were confused and proceeds to get out of the vehicle, as they exit the van, they see a group of shadowy figures, as they squint their eyes, they saw the people from the crime scene earlier! Both of them were filled with anger, because of what they did to the couple and what they did to their vehicle. Alex confronts them and says " Just couldn't go quiet huh?"  The criminals laugh at them and said "Why would we? We got caught by you people, we know that you're gonna report to the police, but I think you already know that we're not gonna let you go."  Alex, getting filled with more anger, said " Try us, you already did enough damage, you bastards."  As the criminals hear what he said, they continue laughing, but as they were making fun of the two cleaners, Maya grabs a gun from her pocket and shot one of the criminals, the criminals stop laughing and opens the back of their vehicle, grabbing guns. The two ran and entered their van, opening up a compartment from underneath the shelves of their equipment and continues to grab a shotgun and a single sticky grenade. As they went outside, Maya threw a sticky grenade from under their car and slid it under the engine of the vehicle of the criminals. Some of their henchmen get affected by the explosion and lays down on the street, losing a couple of limbs. The criminals continue to shoot at Maya but they forgot about one person, Alex, who grabbed the shotgun, began to shoot numerous criminal henchmen and runs to them and pulls out a sticky grenade and begins to stick 4 of them all at once, Alex laughs and presses a button that would detonate all of the grenades. They kill every single one of them and calls the police. The two of them proceeds to give a report to the officers before arriving at their home. The two cleaners rest up and prepares for another day of crime scene cleaning.

End of Chapter 1.

The crack in the wall caught Milo’s attention as he felt the cold, rough pattern against his hand. It was early in the morning, the only sound that could be heard was his light breathing as he took in his environment yet again. Despite growing up within his enclosed room – he has never felt so safe before. The rooting wood floor that creaked with each step soon became his favorite pastime. Milo knew he needed to make a dent in the wall if he genuinely wanted to live, but the young man found comfort in his own space. Soon, time passed by – as it always does. People kept moving about in their daily lives, making friends, meeting their loved ones – time passed by for them. Yet for Milo, who sat in his room all day, time meant nothing. It got harder and harder for the teen to figure out what was reality and what was fiction – his mind playing games with him as he stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the soft fabric that his bed provided for him. The walls seemed to close in, however Milo found more comfort in this. Despite his mind screaming at him to get up, he lies in bed as more time passed. Seconds become minutes, minutes became hours, hours turned into days, and days, – turned into months. Milo resembled that of a rotting corpse, his dirty skin sticking into the bed like a parasite would to its host. The walls seemed to have gotten closer, so close that Milo could feel the pressure of the four frames against his bed. Yet the young male still didn’t have a desire to move. All the motivation, the desires that his classmates have – Milo never got. So, he stayed in his room during that past year, his body making a permanent dent into his mattress as the teenager couldn’t be at more peace with himself. As he closed his eyes one last time and felt the walls enclosed on his frail body.

Black engulfed her vision. Not the pure void accompanied by sleep or a starless night sky. Something more akin to that of soot having a subtle undertone to it. A comforting softness.

The regular moan of wood was drowned by a much sharper version of the sound.

She lifted her snout, tongue swiping over lips and dangerously sharp, serrated teeth. Storm gray sought out the tiny flecks of startling yellow in the sea of darkness. Thanks to her size, the female slithered closer to that color in no time. A pair with vast differences, one a shark resembling skaelka and the other a cat resembling catteel, but both humanoid enough to be called ‘women’.

The smaller, soot-skinned, catteel gave a full body stretch as she openly declared to the cargo-hold, “Sweet Kalica! That was just what I needed!”

The first maintained a tight little frown despite feeling perfectly content and supplying a velvety, “Always my pleasure.” The words were met with the low rumble of a purr from her partner before she added snark. “The men could stand to care about your end more.”

“O~h, I could make them… but… I like the way you do it best.” Dainty fingers walked up the barely blue-tinted gray of rough skin. “We have that little… something extra, don’tcha think? My precious Scarra?” A fuzzy tail flicked the end of stubby snout then she was being flashed teeth near as sharp as her own in a self-humored grin.

‘Scarra’ sighed, “I’m still not sure how I feel about that nickname…” It made her think of the word scary or scarred.

“I could call you Letty instead?” That was definitively worse.

The larger nearly crushed the smaller to her chest to growl in a pointed ear, “Only if you want me to start calling you my little Nee-nee.”

“Eeeeew! Don’t call me thaaaat!” It came out especially squeaky and unfazed by the show of bravado. “Knees have to be the least sexy part of the body!”

“That’s not what I meant.” The more wholly named Scarlett Skell brought a hand to her own unkempt mess of dark gray hair, never knowing what to do with this woman. Other than what they just did.

“But that’s what it makes me think of!”

The shark finally cracked a smile at her perky petite partner, but it faded quickly, “Tawny… I’ve wanted to ask you for a while, do you want to keep going on like this? Or if you had the option, would you choose another life?”

A ‘mrrrow’ of feline amusement rose as Tawny flopped them to straddle Scarlett’s abdomen. Her figured swayed with the lurch of the waves, “I’m a whore, hon. Adamn good one.I don’t even know how to doanything else, and I don’t need to because money, honey. Bein’ so close to the top ain’t too shabby either.” Her abnormal position as the ship’s courtesan commanded an unexpectedly intense level of respect.

Scarlett watched as the short mane of black hair was done up to fan out behind her lover’s tufted cat ears, “I think you have more skills than you realize. My intention isn’t to pressure you, this is… fine. I like it, but… being here is holding us back. Holding me back.” The skaelka were of the ‘demon’ species variety rather than ‘normal’. A divide that, as far as she understood, was based on a war no one remembered. One that meant on a crew like theirs, “I’ll always be at the bottom and I want more from my life. I need to start over.” Fingers caressed the other woman’s face. “I’d like it if I could start over with you.”

“Don’t wanna pressure me, huh?” Tawny rolled head about her shoulders, for once dropping her vibrant smile, “…I couldn’t do that to Sammy.”

A much heavier, finned tail slapped the floor of the ship beside them, “The captain lives for his crew. He’d want you to be happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. It’s not that simple, though, ‘kay? I owe ‘im my life and he really depends on me.” The tiny woman officially crawled off her and from under their skimpy sheet to find her underwear.

Scarlett’s long, downward pointed ears wiggled with interest, “Your life? You’ve never told me that.”

“I’d stowed away. Surprise, I got caught and thrown overboard. Luckily, Sammy had been targetin’ the ship so here I am instead of a water-logged corpse. I got to where I was goin’ and well… once I got good at whorin’, I found ‘im again to be the ship’s whore. I don’t talk about it ‘cause I don’t want the others to think I’m like in love,” she said the phrase in a mocking tone, “with Sammy or somethin’. I mean, sure, I lovehim, but he’s… more of an older brother. Lookin’ out for me.”

A mass of gray and off-white underbelly sat up to slant her brow, “Who fucks you?”

That had her flailing splayed dagger-tipped digits, “We’re obviously not actually-!” It was awfully cute seeing her huff still mostly naked. “Scarra, you just… you really know how to rub my fur the wrong way! Bein’ in charge puts lotsa stress on ‘im! And even whores have a line!”

“I’m willing to concede on that. I don’t like my job, but I wouldn’t want his thanks to Patrick alone…” The shark gave a shrug before standing to dress. “And it’s because I can rile you up that you’re the only one I like to tease.”

“You’re gonna get us caught if you keep makin’ me scream.”

Those jagged teeth were displayed again by a curl of the lips as she hooked her pet in with one arm about the waist, “I’ll never stop making you scream.”

Even with her near pitch-black skin in the dark of the hold, this close it was clear Tawny was blushing. A deep kiss was begrudgingly accepted.

Predator released prey, stating, “Even so, you’re still always right. They’ll get all kinds of ideas if they know about us. Disgusting heteroideas.”

Tawny giggled as she tightened the stays down the front of her appropriately short dress, “It’s not that bad, big baby. Since when did ya even start hatin’ dick so much?”

Scarlett was briefly hidden as a loose fitting cream shirt was pulled on that left some of her abdomen exposed with how low her trousers sat, “You know as well as I do these particular dicks are the type to insert themselves between us without invitation. Our relationship isn’t something that exists for them to fetishize. And these days... I’m only interested in having you for dinner anyway.” The towering woman gave the other a flat faced wink before turning her back. “Don’t go forgetting before the next meal… I love you, Tawny.”

“Love ya moooore~.”

Her boots were heavy, not just from their literal weight, but she still navigated from behind the ship’s stores in the dark with ease. One of the benefits of their non-human lineage was both possessed excellent night sight that was a massive help in keeping their adventures under wraps. It wasn’t only none of the crew’s business, but could cause some trouble that Tawny was screwing anyone for free. Especially if that someone was the lowest rung on the ladder.

Scarlett was soon lined on either side by snoring men. She rolled into her hammock. Eyes closed.

Tawny owed the captain her life…

***

“Have fun out there, cleanin’ boy!”

“Hilarious.” Her tone was muted, finding all humor beat from the long running joke of not altering her title to match her gender. Stripped to her skivvies, Scarlett stood upon the side railing facing away from the water. One last clean breath of the salted air.

The woman fell. Her body crashed to the sea with the density of a boulder. She sunk beneath the waves. A hand latched onto the hull of their anchored vessel before she drifted into the unknown.

The role she played really was awful, but this part was always the worst.

She breathed. The water flooded her lungs. Choking and drowning until it burned. Until she might black out. Only then would her body see fit to open dormant gills.

Her reward for partially drowning? The tedious monotony of scraping off every creature that saw fit to attach itself to the hull. If she wasn’t here they’d have to beach the entire ship for cleaning far more often. A potentially dangerous process that ran the risk of them being trapped on a remote island with the law at their throats. Yet, her aid in securing their safety didn’t net her a shred of respect.

Hours. Several of them passed until she scaled the ladder dangling at the stern. Which she did quickly under the panic of suffocation. When Scarlett’s hands and knees hit the deck again, she promptly ‘puked’ up the sea water. She squeezed her neck, pressing on her gills, praying for the moment her body took the signal to transition.

Whatever happened next, she needed her life to be entirely above or below the water. She needed her deciding factor to have the autonomy to decide.

With a wobble, she found her feet enough to drag herself to where she left her pants. Except they weren’t there. The woman stared at the spot for a full minute, already having an idea of where they went. He was a perfectly nice guy and the bane of her existence.

“Where are my things?”

The otter-like man known as Patrick answered, “They were a tripping hazard. I moved them to your hammock.” That settled it. The otten was always inconveniencing her without even realizing he was doing it. Now she would get to stagger her dripping body to where she had to sleep tonight. Things were already always damp at sea.

On the return, she made sure to pass by close to Patrick, crashing a shoulder against his. His species was small compared to hers and it nearly sent the male to the floor. He glared up anger and she peered down nothing. Her hand slid to her back. The woman wondered if he’d even notice why she felt the need to apologize.

It was flat, but genuine, “Sorry.” He had no further demands. Step one was done. Step two…

Scarlett positioned herself dead center on the deck. A deep inhale.

“Captain Samuel Hume!” It rang out to the entirety of the ship. Heads turned. There were plenty of other men present besides the captain or Patrick. A couple more appeared on the stairs of the cabin, wondering what the hell she was doing. Other than that, no one moved.

It made it obvious when boot steps sounded from the quarterdeck. The short-haired blonde, sea-side tanned and salted, human male was soon gazing at her. They didn’t have a fancy hat to go with his title. Only a long, thick, black overcoat that it was far too hot to be wearing normally so it was merely hanging on his bare shoulders.

A bottle was in his hand, having been enjoying a drink with their boatswain, ‘doctor’, and… Tawny. He didn’t speak or have expression of anything other than curiosity as he stopped at the railing.

“…Captain Samuel Hume… I hereby challenge you to a duel.”

The general air was soon a slurry of different, evolving reactions. Stunned silence. Shocked whispers. Muted laughter. Claims of insanity. Questions of why. Declarations of interest.

Sammy set his bottle on the railing with a smile.

Her favoriteotten helpfully pointed out, “You don’t even have your own gun!”

A heavy sigh, “Patrick, you seriously haven’t notice?” The woman pulled a flintlock pistol from the back of her trousers where she’d momentarily stashed it.

His face furrowed then he quite suddenly gripped the holster at his side. He simply stared incredulously from there.

“…you made it rather easy.” But she didn’t do this to play with him. Scarlett still had her slitted eyes fixated upon their captain. Whom casually glided down the stairs. His coat was thrown across a barrel. He stopped with back to one of the masts. Nothing between the two of them. Funny even their esteemed leader was short compared to her.

“You’re reallychallenging for captain!? What makes you think we’d want you?” Such things were usually decided by vote and there had been no discontent among the men. Captains were chosen for combat capability and Samuel regularly touted his.

Nothing could have stopped the high volume scoff from spilling out of Scarlett, “I don’t think that. I wouldn’t challenge anyone for something as trivial as a title. This… This is for the life of one Tawny Hart. If I win, her debt to you is paid.”

The feline’s alarm spiked and she tackled the railing of the quarterdeck, “S-Scarra!” It spiked to the point she sputtered the nickname she never dared to use in front of their comrades. “Please, hon!” She was hurriedly scampering nearer. Nearly falling down stairs. “You don’t hafta to do this! I’m fine here, honest!”

“You’re still not free to choose! I have to do this. Even if you can never forgive me for it.” The gun was raised, pointed at her leader. She pulled back the hammer, “So. What’s your answer, captain?”

“Sammy, please!” Tawny knew her well enough to know there was no point arguing with her further. So she clung to her friend instead as she came to the main deck, “Don’t accept! You’ve cared for me more than my own kin.” The whore desperately pulled at his arm, “I can’t lose you and-. And I-.” Tears wove down her face, “I love her! I love her more than anything! Please don’t hurt her, Sammy!” Further begging was too choked to understand. And yet.

“Step aside, my lovely.” A pat fell between her ears and Tawny fell still. Her touch sloughed from the man.

“Patrick, your holster. If you don’t mind.”

The seaman delivered the item to the cleaner. Scarlett gladly accepted the belt, replacing the hammer to holster the weapon, and strapping the entire thing to her waist catty-corner to her own belt. Her irritation was already rising with the rest of their company focusing on the revelation of the ship’s whore and bottom rung, the only two women aboard, being lovers. Rather than the fact someone, if not both, were about to be shot. They briefly assessed their posture and positions. The distance between them. She tied her hair back to ensure its cooperation. Everything was set appropriately. It was time to conclude this chapter of her life one way or the other.

While Scarlett didn’t bother to so much as cant her head, she was well aware of Tawny’s presence. Where she stood in line with the others with face buried into her hands. Crying. Completely incapable of baring witness to the only family she had hurting each other. Scarlett grit her teeth, wishing for forgiveness. However, no matter the pain it caused, this was the way their world worked.

Sammy flipped a coin and their audience held its breath.

Her arm went limp. The fingers holding the gun did the same. The hunk of metal thudded against the deck as the shock set in. A much heavier one followed. Samuel having grasped his gut, blood seeping through fingers, right before collapsing.

How in the twelve hells… did he miss?

Hello Dweller,

Just when I thought I was finished learning frontend stuff, there is more languages that I need to learn. Sorry about not posting chapters for a century, but I can easily explain why I vanished for a while.

The first reason is that I got a new job. I accepted it for the early hours, because I wanted to be able to enjoy the rest of my day. The second reason is that I am trying to focus on this website, which seems to be adding harder challenges with every stage I clear.

Finally, I don't really know where to go with the stories. The Children of Melonia Falls was originally supposed to be... less gruesome? It was supposed to be fantasy mixed with a bit of psychological horror, but now there's this thing with the characters going insane with very little reason. It's a mess.

As for The Patient of Melonia Falls, it hasn't taken a bad turn yet. I actually think it's pretty good at the moment. Yet, this is supposed to finish after the previously mentioned story, and without it reaching a conclusion, this story won't as well.

Anyways, the website is my main focus. The reason is that the app is supposed contain three main websites. A multimedia site for storing my work (VoidDwellers), a site for storing character bios and story info (WikiDwellers), and finally a site for slice of life content when you need a break (SurfaceDwellers).

This app is going to pretty massive, containing things like 2D avatar customization, themes, easter eggs (the ones you see in video games), and a crap ton of achievements and unlockables.

To be honest, if I just make an encyclopedia website with no login stuff, or any crazy features, this might've been done by now, but I can't accept making something so simple. Anyways, here is the index / welcome page for the website. It currently has a theme called VaporKing applied to it.

Here is a deep ocean theme that I like to call, CrimeDive.

Finally, here is a light pink theme called LostYouth.

I have like 8 other themes, but it wouldn't be fun to show all of them. They're meant to represent the characters you see on the page.

Dream Deep Dweller,

Myko