My Hero's Short Story: My Journey To The Underground

EXT. CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY - RUNWAY (GOLD BASE, CA) - dayFLORENTINARodger that commander Joshua.They board on a jet on the runway.INT./EXT. Jet - Day - travelingFlorentina and Destiny walk into the cockpit. Shane sits in the back where he lays his weapons down.Shane(whispers to himself)I can't believe I am doing this.DESTINYI hope you have a strong stomach Shane.FLORENTINABuckle up boy.Florentina goes full throttle. The plane takes off, Shane sees the ground.SHANEOh shit, I think I am going to lose my lunch.DESTINYHave you ever been on a plane before.SHANEIts been so long, I can't remember.Destiny looks at him as if he was some kind of idiot. The plane reaches 10,000 feet.SHANEHow come the ground looks so flat.FLORENTINASo you still don't believe in what Daniel told you, wait until we

“Run!” the little boy cried. The roman soldiers came attacking at village and killing 2 dozen men and women. The little boy was named Damon. His father is a god, his name was Mercury, the god of speed. Damon was just a demigod.

I couldn't see who did it, but I was tired. As we got to Agamemnon's castle, Clytemnestra was acting as if she was happy that Agamemnon has returned. I stood there with no motion just going into a vision, I saw Apollo. He was going to kill me with an axe. he was about to slay me, and I screamed as loud as I could. I never thought of a horrific accident. As I came back to reality, Queen Clytemnestra was calling for me, for I knew that this was my fate. I stood there trying not to show fear. She took me to Agamemnon, dead she had an axe, just like the vision. " do you have mercy, please don't kill me I shall not die as a slave" I plead. "You'll die with your beloved one", says Clytemnestra in rage. She grabbed the axe and swung, I jerked a bit, but it was too late. " you shall pay for this, for these are my last words." I say. As I see the light and blood behind me, I rise to join the gods and I am glad the suffering has

“Small town big heart,” they say locked away behind their cold immaculate castle gates that rest on the remains of the previous farmland and plains. The collective heart beats but only at a convenient time suiting parties involved. “A place where everyone matters,” they utter as their motto in indistinguishable monotone voices. The people are too wrapped up in their everyday lives to ever be concerned about their neighbor, they look through life with gilded glasses. It’s as if a fog had descended slowly creeping into their view distorting what they once held most dear.

There I was sitting at the table eating what the nuns like to call food what just looked like to me slop I was sitting with my friend Felix. He came across a carrot and it was a full-size carrot he just sat there and stared at it not even touching it if he did not hurry up and I was going to grab it and eat it.

A few months later, I found myself riding with Halt back to his quaint little cottage nestled in the woods. He was teaching me about animal tracks. As our horses tread against the snow that lay on the ground, I noticed a massive print next to the cottage, and Halt said it was a giant boar. A man was lying in the bushes and came out to claim that he had seen the boar first hand, and that it was a mad and destructive one. Halt told him to go to the castle and tell the Baron to gather a group of men so that we can all go hunt the boar in the morning. The next day, I found myself on horseback on the outside of a circle of warriors, and Horace. If the boar were to escape through our circle, I was to chase it down and finish it off with my bow.

A beam of early morning sunlight played on his face. He turned and scooted to another part of the bed in order to avoid waking. Within a few minutes the beam of sunlight had caught up with him again and was shining again directly on his eyelids. He lay there, his head in a fog, rubbed his eyes and stared at the white plastered walls trying to determine where he was and even who he was. The brightness of the room overwhelmed him with a fierce intensity. It was a few minutes before his eyes became accustomed to the light. He entertained his semi-waking mind by tracing patterns of the earthy colors on the tapestry that hung on the wall facing him. He rubbed his hands slowly on the bedsheet, felt a smoothness and said to himself, "This

My life has always been a series of transitional phases that was as every-changing as the seasons themselves. The words of my literary heroes were my utmost comfort; they inspired my confidence and my character, and moved me to be a more visceral, understanding person. I believe that during my time I have been wizened, and connected to the roots of all humanity; in my imagination I see it as the growth of a sampling into the dampness of the earth and the jaded formation of rough bark. Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose transcendental views have inspired me, was once quoted as saying, “Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” I believe that is true, and with every choice I’m reminded of that hopeful and assertive message.

Mankind had believed themselves to have escaped the horrors that preyed on them in bygone ages. Perhaps they were right. Mostly. The torch of scientific progress kindles by newton and his companions spread like wildfire over the centuries that followed, and drove the beasts that dwelt in our shadows scampering back into the darkened pits that had spawned them; turning the hunter into the hunted. Physics, the idea that our world operates through universal laws, defeated the ancient magics that had once left Kings and nobles alike shivering in the all concealing night. Darwin and his concept of evolution banished the ancient monsters with such speed and ferocity that even hercules himself would have been envious. But there are still places in our world where the light of modern day hasn’t come to contact with . i come to you not with a tale of some hidden cave in the heart of the wilderness, but that endless sprawl that surrounds all of humanity's great achievements. The last great uncharted territory. The ocean

I was born from the gravel and clay. The clay was kneaded by the hand of the gods, and it was made to be a tool that is capable of taking on infinite shapes. When I opened my eyes in a wilderness, I have seen the original scenery in the world. It is the boundless earth, the vast sky and the city which stand at the distant horizon.

Let me tell you a short story about this boy. It was 9 o'clock in the afternoon when his parent asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he said with enthusiasm "I want to be a doctor", not knowing what it is. After that we just went about our days. Ten years later, he's a senior in junior high school getting ready to embark on the road where many have failed. He did what he had to do so that he can graduate. Graduation day was here and pretty quickly. His parents said to him, "no more fun and games, you are going to enter high school. All I want from you is to pass your class of high grades , graduate and go on to college to pursue your career to become a doctor." This kid heard a lot of things when it comes to becoming a doctor and

Tom opened his eyes the sunlight creeping through the cracks of his small cabin. He lives in the potato fields of Idaho surrounded by woods and a pond next door.It was blazing hot the sun scorching everything beneath it. He went out to the fields looking for some potatoes which is all he would ever eat. He would occasionally go fishing or hunting, Using what his parents left him to cook meals and catch wildlife . He is lonely the only company he has was his horse. He was twelve years old and living on his own. His family had left him to find money when he was five promising they would be back in a year .Every morning when he wakes he says to himself this is the day, and goes out and looks at the horizon waiting for them to show. Its has been

On August 3rd, 900, my parents found out they were having a child. They prepared for a

October 23rd, 2002, a very dreadful day for my family… my day of birth. Maybe it was wonderful, but I’ll never know the truth. My dad will not actually tell me what he was thinking in that moment, and I will never hear my mom talk about that day, or any day, or actually anything ever again. I’ll get to the death of my mom later. As I came home from the hospital I have no memory of that, but my earliest memory is around the age of six. Six years old, and sitting on a bar stool. I’d sit, sip a Sprite, munch on some crackers while my dad got shit faced drunk. I remember the small room. Smells of smoke and alcohol fill my nostrils. I sat on a bar stool so long that my butt print was engraved in it, kind of like the fat guy that I used to talk to. He was up

The horn sounded, and that's when the chaos ensued around me. I ran swiftly towards the Cornucopia, and when I heard someone call out. "Ice-" Denmark. Boom. The sound resonated throughout the arena, making me jump. Deciding to risk a small glance behind me, and trying to find out what cut Denmark off, I yelped. Russia had Denmark in a headlock, with a knife ready. Belarus was next to them, dead, her blood spilling onto the dirt. My breath caught in my throat, and I tripped, hitting the cold metal ground of the cornucopia. There were footsteps that were getting closer, and I quickly pushed myself up, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and a rag. Boom. I spun around, with wide eyes, only to find Denmark on the ground next to Belarus, his blood also spilling onto the dirt. Boom. I turned, seeing Lithuania staring at a freshly dead Hungary. Did he..? I shook the thought out of my head, and looked back to Den. Realization slowly hit me that Russia probably wasn't done killing, and I was the closest thing to him that was alive, and vulnerable for that matter. I gulped, looking into Russia's eyes, before bolting as fast as I could away from the Cornucopia, and into the woods.