It was a cold and dark night when Oliver stood outside the main gate of the palatial mansion that belonged to the CFO of the luxury yacht manufacturer Caesar's Shipyards. He attempted a deep breath but just as his lungs began to fill with the crisp New York winter air they convulsed, dispelling the air violently with each deep and gravelly cough. His face was beet red as he composed himself, then, with his hand against the cold steel of the gate, he stretched his legs. His joints were stiff and his back ached but this was nothing new to Oliver as his body had slowly been getting worse and worse for the past 5 years. While he had expected it for some time now, he wouldn't have put his money on this being the night of his last kill.Read More
Taratumba was the smallest cheetah cub.
His brother and sister were much larger and would never let Taratumba win any of the games.
His mother would watch as they wrestled and raced.
Even though Taratumba was always overpowered and last in the races he never stopped trying.
Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful queen named Priscilla Bindle and she was quite the cunt. The queen lived in a huge castle that sat on a hill overlooking the metropolitan city that sprawled for miles throughout the valley below. On her first day as queen, when she was only fourteen years old, she celebrated her inauguration by forcing three of her handmaids' to fight to the death. When she turned sixteen she decreed that all those that fell late on their taxes would have to fight in her gladiator-style tournaments. On her seventeenth birthday, she declared war on the neighboring kingdom which led to a 6 month period of carnage and destruction. After many deaths, she won the war, which increased her power and ego. Tonight is the night before the queen turns 18 and there is a hush in the city as its citizens await tomorrows bad news. But what would the queen decree this year?Read More
The room was filled with the soft light of the morning sun as the alarm clock's wrenching beeps pierced through the silence of Adam Nusbaum's room. It was a plain room meant for only the most basic of human activities. Reading, sleeping and the bathroom for cleaning. Everything from the alphabetized bookshelf to the color-coded clothes in the closet was organized for pragmatic purpose and ease of use. No extras. No frills. On the walls, a single painting hung above the reading chair with the inspirational phrase "Just do it!" in bold yellow letters on top of a runner with nice shoes sweating through a finish line.Read More
As the sun started its route over the horizon to scorch the earth with its hot tendrils three horses galloped side by side down an abandoned road toward what was once called Downtown Los Angeles. Each horse had a rider and each rider had a burning desire to flee the danger they had narrowly escaped just minutes earlier. Their party of seven had been taken by surprise. As they had passed a line of markets along the road they were suddenly engulfed in a chaos of explosions and gunfire. All around them were loud bangs and snaps and before any of them could react two of them lay dead on the ground. Most of the horses had bucked their riders off to run away from the danger and as shots were being wildly flung all around only three were able to escape.Read More
"What is the first rule, Jacob?" Mark asked his 12-year-old son in the dimly lit basement of their home.
Jacob stood straight as he'd been taught and held his spear in his hand hard against the floor and said confidently, "The dead are our enemy and should not be underestimated. Their power is in their numbers and their singular desire to kill. Use your ears and they will never get the better of you. Keep your distance and do not let them overwhelm you. They must be purified!"
"Very good!" his father said while pacing the room. "What is the second rule?"