There was a silent sob on the end of the phone. The operator stated their officers would be there soon. In a wet mess on the floor, a mother held her daughter closely. She begged and cried, sobbing into the lifeless body of her child, longing for her eyes to flutter open, her hand to reach out, for life to return. Blue and red lights flashed down the street, but it was too late. The bath tub was stained red, the girl’s last breath long since elapsed. The mother had already been scarred for life and Death? Death had already arrived, tailed by Life.
We allow our writers to create content on any subject they like, if you want to read something a little different to our standard gaming articles this section is for you!
The Villain of Love; The Hero of Pain
“Why do you do it? Why do you kill? Why must you be the villain?!” Screamed Hero. Surrounded by nothing, Hero and Villain sat across from each other at a table.
“Because without destruction, there would be no peace,” Villain stated.
“You speak in riddles and with a twisted mind. Without destruction, there would be only peace.”
“Nobody would know what peace is without pain. Like nobody would know what love is without hate. And nobody would know what happiness is without sadness,” Villain answered.
Death To Life; Love
“Where the hell have you been?!” He roared, pushing past her into the apartment.
“You need to leave…” She mumbled her head down low.
“No. You stood me up last night. You’ve been ignoring my texts and calls. And everyone keeps telling me they’ve seen you with some strange guy when you were meant to be with me! I deserve answers. I’m your boyfriend.” Hayden yelled.
Ashley stepped back, scared and upset, but the only thing she could say was a plea to make him leave.
A Boxful of Truth
My time was limited. Each month, both a friend or family member would disappear on the 1st, and their body found on the 10th, mutilated. The police were useless, they didn’t care, they were getting paid to sit around all day, so why would they investigate such things? I had taken it upon myself to find the murderer, no longer would I lose the ones closest to me. I knew I’d be next, I had but one friend and my mother left. Every night I dreamt of the murderer and the victims. The bodies covered in blood, their faces almost unrecognisable with their insides ripped out.
HRS Invictus: Scamming young graduates into unpaid sixty hour work weeks.
Picture the scene. You’re at home, relaxing in the living room after another grueling day in the office, sinking into the first bite of your home made meal. You hear a pounding on the front door. YOUR front door. Interrupting you in the privacy and sanctity of your own home. You open to be greeted by a suited and booted gentleman claiming that you’re spending too much on your utility bills. Annoying right? Well imagine the flip side – a recent University graduate, desperately looking for their first post study full time job, willing to snap up the first promise of progression and high salaries which comes their way. Combine the two, and you get HRS Invictus.