So we started to run down the street once we got there we went into someone's backyard my dad said “stop” he looked around it was not Chili it was a gray cat and Chili is orange. We ran back and looked in the bushes our dad whispered “shhh do you see him in the bushes ‘ then I replied “yes” then my dad said “ Cale go by the back gate Leah go around front i am going to grab him. As my dad crept closer Chili ran my way I shooed him back, but he got scared and ran all the way around the front and into Michals bushes. Leah and I ran over there and leah went in the bushes but she could not find him so she came back out but she tripped on a weed and fell. My dad took her back to the house but me and my aunt kept looking. We looked and looked but
Then some of people noticed a new guest, dress as a clothes of the Red Death. Everyone was freaking out because of him. When Prince Prospero saw this guy, he became angry and asked courtiers to seize him and unmask him. But no one have the courage to do it, including Prospero himself. The Red Death walked through the rooms, heading toward the black room. Prospero chased him with taking his dagger. Prospero reached the edge of the dark room, the Red Death suddenly turned to face him, and Prospero fell on the ground and dead. "Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony
“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian
Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.
Whoever that is, was it so obvious that she was torn? Dizzy wondered if it was just Fallen that might notice or if she were wearing some damned sign or something. Maybe it was a guess, or nothing at all, Dizzy had no idea but she didn't want to dwell on it. Not when she had something that actually made her happy right in front of her. "Well anyone after any part of you will have to go through me." she spoke with a real amount of censarity in her words before a shiver ran down her spine.
I used to think that sitting in Mrs Ewert’s class doing math problems was the worst kind of torture. I was wrong. The clock struck 12:20 but I didn't move, I just stood there thinking about what might happened to me, what WILL happen to me since I failed my last test in my next class, Mrs Berntson’s. There are rumors that she drains their blood, then hangs them upside down in her closets. Every day she washes her face with the blood of those students. And those were the lucky ones. Mrs Berntson is super ugly with greasy, stringy, torn hair, along with a super long neck and nose with a monstrous wart. Her six foot five, 230 lb body is super intimidating.
Purgatory: A place where the most malignant/hazardous fiends are jailed due to their assailments on the human race. Their thirst for human blood still lingered within them, even after centuries of being caged in Purgatory. They probed everywhere for a way out of the illimitable, gloomy, foggy forest and rivers; killing themselves and others with hunger and insanity. Once a fiend is in, it’s nearly impossible to get out without a Reaper’s or Knight’s scythe.
Josh's brother Mike visited him the next day after the charges were set, and asked him if he truly did kill the man because he didn’t know what to believe. Josh exclaimed, “I swear Mike I did not pull the trigger! I’m being set up somehow. It wasn’t me who killed that man!” Then Mike responds, “I’m going to get you out of this disgusting prison.” One month passes, and Mike has been planning how to get his brother out of prison and prove that he is innocent. He has a friend that worked on designing the prison and Mike asked him to get an outline of it. Once he got the outline of the prison, he got it tattooed on his body. With this it will help him get his brother out of jail. He has been studying the prison and how it works for the last month,
The man was begging for his life as the murderer, a man about six feet four inches and probably two hundred fifty pounds, with one arm picked the other man up, a skinny man around 5'6 and 100 pounds max who was clearly starving screamed "I'll give it back! I will I will!". The larger man said "It is to late for that now." and then John woke up.
I am information, therefore I am. Wherever I go, somebody’s watching. Wherever I am, somebody knows. Whatever I do, somebody sees it.
“John you know that using actual print will not give us the audience we seek”.
A couple of hours later I walked the trail towards the village jail, in hopes to see Jason. On rehash, he was one of the uppermost honest and friendly folks on the island, and the best shot as well. Though I always considered myself one of the best at spearfishing, Jason was better, and a steadier aim; he literally never missed a shot. His interests and passions had always been so forthright and reliable that in societal context, he took in everyone’s trust for granted. And, as it turned up, Duende resembled him in personality, although she exhibited the unworldliness befitting of a native who never left the islands. Unlike Jason, who was in the islands on vacation from the U.S., and had both his parents alive as well as siblings, Duende never
Look at the footprints across the vast area of the beach, so short in existence. Here one minute and gone the next, washed away with the ever turning tide. These footprints imprinted in the sand tell a story that is mine, the changes in my life thus far. A change that once impacted upon my life was never to be the same again. For just this one moment time would stand still. It was just me and the ocean, nothing more, nothing less, everything else but the rhythmic pounding of my feet upon the sand would lose significance. A sharp buzz rings out from the other side of my eyes, awakening me from the disturbing visions that plague my dreams. For a brief moment I am convinced that it is all it is, a nightmare, and then the reality
At a street corner miles off the Manhattan bay sat a man. The December winds and darkness accompanied him. He whistled with the tune of the passing trains and traveled throughout the day from one part of the street to another with the passing sun. The lethargic bones in his body and his hunched gait reminded one of an old tire swing, pivoting with every gust of wind. He walked on the street with an empty coffee cup, sifting the little change inside it. As the day went on, masses of people passed by the man with indifference. What is one brick relative to a whole wall? His shoulders looked burdened with grief, but could easily be mistaken for a drunken posture. Drunk on grief, though he would think with a humorless smile. As his routine continued,
The man she watches controls the reality. Controls the very threads of existence, weaves his way through to create something bigger than him. It's sickening, really. Revolting is a better word for it. For some reason she keeps watching him, though. He has small habits that are hard for the eye to see, like subconsciously rubbing the Eye of Agamoto when he is nervous (Or if. The man was hardly nervous), or running his hands through his thick ebony hair. She did notice, however, that his hair is not all the silky raven color. Bits on the side are grayish white, staining his imperfection. It is the little things that catch her eye.
LUKE is propped up against an imaginary wall with his feet lying out. He has a somewhat bewildered look on his face and his eyes are darting back and forth