Short Story

The last man was cunning and loud. He confidently told the guards to tighten his ropes while the people in the room cheered loudly for his fearless, ignorant behavior. The interviewer uncomfortably adjusted his note cards and began the process for another time. “Thirty seconds for Richards. The American people are concerned about the ongoing World War, the fourth of its kind and the recent increasing number of bombings in New Y-york,

it is life, Mama!” Mama: “Oh—so now its life. Money is life. Once upon a

Christine looked out the side window, and her jaw dropped. “Holy...” Parked along the curb were dozen of news vans, mostly from local stations, but she spotted a few from the national networks. All along the curb were dozens of reports, cameramen, and other assorted personnel. All of them crowding around one house. A very particular house.

Elliot laughs spitefully. "Abigail you sound bloody mad! Sebastian was not a demon nor did he kill our father. If this is your idea of another joke it is not in the least bit funny!" He snarls.

A reporter stood, having run out of patience, and took everyone's attention. " The streets are filled with so much unspeakable grief and death, and you talk about good relations. Everyone knows you are here to taunt us further and to make fools of us! You work your satanic ways to commit mass murder; then you pretend you are some saint who is here to help us.

The TV flashes with screams and colors. They say “We Shall Overcome”. They cry out “We Matter”.

Charlie slowly drifted off to sleep, laid across his couch, as the TV continued to broadcast the public news channel. He mused to himself how immature all of them had been to try to change the world to be something in their image. This is good enough after all. As he closed his eyes for the night, the final advertisement flitted across the screen in front of him.

Jaune knew that women could be confusing but this was a whole new level of unpredictable. He was a trained hand to hand combatant and he was the sheriff of a small town in the Vacuan desert he was feared by many lesser gangs in that area. But even now he had no way of defending himself from his mother looking at him and having her eyes water and begin to cry. Instantly he crossed the room and wrapped her up in a hug while say that it was alright and that he was fine. After a brief moment of silence she looked up at him and he felt his heart fall. She wasn’t mad like he had expected her to be. She wasn’t even afraid. She simply look at him for a long moment and said “ you are becoming more and more like your father with each passing day.”

Lilly Millan brewed some coffee while listening to the news that blared from her television situated atop a wooden table in her living room. She listened to the news religiously, for as far back as she could remember anyway. It didn't matter to her what form it came from; whether it be a podcast, viral video, or radio. As long as she could stay on top of what was occurring in the world, she was happy. Recently though, she discovered that the news had become nothing more than televised daily announcements of people dying. Hearing nothing but increasing death tolls on television made her feel like the world was doomed to rot.

She slapped a palm to her forehead. “Oh, wow, why didn’t I think of that?” Stalking to the opening, “I don’t want your help… and, you can talk to your damned self.” Her voice tumbled into the empty hallway. “Dickhead.”

For years, Mama talked about moving up north. I never thought she meant it. Yeah, they say Oklahoma’s just red dirt, back roads, and tornadoes, and they aren’t far off. There’s just something about walking five miles to the nearest gas station that makes my heart smile. But when Mama wants something, she gets it, and she did.

The now silent, smoking flats reeked of death. At the top of the plateau, Indrid Cole’s recent home was being invaded. Once again, there would be no more Capital of Men and, most likely, no more King.

“Liam isn’t here Louis!” Harry snapped. The boy was silent for a moment before beginning to whimper again. He didn’t understand how Louis didn’t know what to do with his erection. He wondered what the boy would do with Sterling. He quickly shook his head - he actually didn’t want to think about that.

"He's up late again," Frederica murmured to herself after seeing lights in the room ahead. She quietly opened the door to the study of the highest ranking officer in the Iserlohn Republic, Yang Wenli. A stray beret lay slightly crumpled on the sofa and empty paper cups cluttered the coffee table in front of it. There was a glow coming from the desk as the study's occupant watched yet another history documentary. The man himself looked slightly disheveled like the rest of the room, a far cry from the hero of democracy he was hailed to be. In other words, things weren't that much different from usual.

“Mike just wanted me to give you something to eat” Phoenix smiled shyly, tossing the wrapped sandwich down to Carter and turning on his heel, hoping for a quick escape.