JokerIsTheCoolest

At the center of the known universe, there rests a supermassive black hole, towards which all matter is slowly drawn inwards, until it explodes outwards, resulting in an entirely new universe. This fact is integral to the big bang theory, the foundation of human understanding of how the universe is made. The qualities of black holes, whether the garden variety or supermassive variant, are mostly theoretical; no light can escape, and presumably any living matter entering one would be crushed beyond all hope of survival, thanks to the immense gravitational pull. There was something else in the nucleus of the universe, far more horrible and unk

“So, Toni, spill it,: you’re CEO of the world’s largest weapons manufacturer and PMC, Legion Industries, you have a wife, you make it out to the golf course with the President of the United States… What’s your secret to looking so youthful? I’ve had you on this show three times in the last five years, and you look identical! Absolutely identical!” The Gregory White show played in an empty living room, the excited, British voice of the Talk Show host on low volume. His guest, the charismatic Toni E. Magboh, founder and CEO of Legion Industries, simply chuckled and leaned back in his chair. So nice

Rachael spent most days perched, awaiting food. Standing still for hours on end, from the dawn to dusk, another tree in the woods; one with a macabre grin, two red, sunken eyes, and an opened belly spilling her previous meal on the orange and red leaves at her feet. When she was born, a malevolent spirit thrown into the world by her Ithaqua, she would get so hungry she thought she would die. She avoided taking human form for hundreds of years, as the starvation would make her tremble, and act irrationally. There was nothing of Rachael, merely the hunger; the longing for a meal that would almost immediately be forgotten in exchange for the nex

The Throne Room of Castle Regina was dark, in the night. Torches usually went unlit, and the windows letting in only moonlight. Dark, sinister shadows spread and stretched across the cold, cobblestone floor, and dark shapes moved along the upper balconies, the beaked servants of the Queen. Queen Samantha Regina, the great and terrible. Or, at least, she liked to think of herself that way. The only victories she had to her name were raids on supply shipments going through the Algernon Woods, and small scale turf wars against the Giovanni Crime Family. All the same, she found victory boring. Her mentor, Julius Caesar, or at least the man using

Broken glass and gravel crunched under the heel of one of Samantha Regina’s large, red boots. She sniffed, already wearing a scowl, smelling the ash and fire still on the wind. The Burning of The Narrows was something its inhabitants were already so eager to forget, but the sky would not let them, the dark clouds of the night before still hanging over their heads as a grim reminder. Even when the clouds left and the smoke stopped rising, the scars and stories would not leave them. Samantha had made sure of this much. She was hunting. It was something she wasn’t accustomed to doing herself, but she refused to leave it in the hands

He couldn’t quite remember the crash. Had there been a crash? There must have been. His husband was gone. His glasses were cracked. His head was killing him. He couldn’t quite remember the crash, but he knew that he needed help. The car had been totaled, and he didn’t know where James was. James, that was the name of his husband. He couldn’t quite remember the crash, but he didn’t know where James was, and that was the most important aspect, in his mind. A castle. He remembered the crash a little better now. They had come across something they weren’t supposed to. Illegal activities, in the stormy night. T

Byron Black checked that his H&K USP was properly loaded, a round in the chamber, before taking his MP3 player out of the front pocket of his dark gray waistcoat and holding down the button in the middle, the black screen blinking to life. He’d need music to help him find his groove in things. Rockwell Haywood adjusted his cap, brushing his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes, and then set down the large black dufflebag the two had brought with them. Unzipping it, he lifted the heavy piece of gas operated machinery from within. Usually the two weren’t for anything extravagant, and Rockwell was used to using his bare hands in their

The Narrows was hardly a quiet city, even in the night. In the later, darker hours, it was all horns and distant, muffled bass beats, as always. Drug deals in back rooms, the laughter of a man who had enjoyed a bit too much to drink, and the occasional scream. It was a city that refused to sleep, for fear of bad dreams. It preferred to face the nightmare of reality, and look it straight in the eye. The Narrows was a city that refused to blink. If the things in dark corners and alleyways would not rest after the sun went down, then neither would the things they threatened. Such was the nature of the city. For every bloodthirsty creature, there

Nine o’clock, and plenty dark. I don’t like night time. I’m sure, when I’m a grown up, I’ll like it more. Drinking and nightclubs and girls and all that stuff. But for now, I hate it. I hate it so much, because it scares me. It’s something that always comes, and will always come. The day is brought on by the sun, but one day, the sun will die out. Not soon, mind you, don’t worry, this isn’t some apocalypse story, at least, I don’t think so, but still. Eventually, there won’t be such thing as daytime. But there’ll still be night. No matter what, darkness is always out there, com

“Papa! Papa!” I hate our house. It’s too big. Or maybe I’m too small. Either way, I can’t find Papa! How am I supposed to tie my shoes and do my tie without him? He hasn’t taught me yet! Although… I guess I could lure him out, using the magic words. They never fail. “Papa! I’m gonna go get Mom if you don’t help me!” Just like that! Presto amazo! Abra kadabra! He appears! “Have you been talking to your Mother?” Papa asks me. “Nope! Not yet! Cross my heart and hope to die! Now help me tie my shoes!” Papa kneels in front of me, tying my nice shiny bla