《Macabre Mim》Chapter 21.Duex: Prequel of Facts Most Pertinent
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I feel like I should preface this with some little bit of background. What I am about to see, what I am about to describe and my reaction to it - well, I don't feel like you would understand, dear reader, if I did not first take the time to explain some of my history.
I started this journal where the action began. As it seemed like that would be the most interesting place to begin. But, as with any story, the beginning was not the beginning, and the end shall not be the end. Events were unfolding long before the first word was written and shall continue to unfold long after I have dropped the pen. (Metaphorically, of course, I'm not actually using a pen to write this. What do you think I am, a savage?) There is a reason that, in this story's beginning, I said of fantasy, "However bad it is, it's better than reality." And there is a reason why, even after everything that has happened yet, after everything still yet to be written, I will stand by this statement. For reality is not only a place of suffering, but it also is a place of helplessness. 'Tons of people have it worse than me.' This statement is the truth, and this has been my watchword. My mantra. My life. For as far back as I can remember. Oh holidays, when I locked myself in my bedroom and hid under the bed, I whispered this to myself, "There are people out there who are starving. There are people out there being tortured. There are people out there living in dog cages." And it was true. And even as hunger forced me out, as I was driven from the safety of my bed, I focused on that idea. Despite the staring, despite the laughing, despite the jeers. And, even as I was being pushed or punched, I repeated to myself, "I have food. I'm warm. I'm surrounded by family." As I grew up I kept to this thought. I clung to it, perhaps, too tightly. And it got me through the endless procession of days. In junior high when I made my first friend, I said to myself "Some people are friendless and alone." And, when my Friend was not with me, as my classmates cleverly found ways to sneak in punches and spit in my eyes, I reminded myself, "At least I'm not really alone. At least this won't happen when He is with me." And when Junior High turned into high school, when I accepted the fact that my best friend didn't like me in that way but pitied me, I tried to be grateful that he was my friend. I introduced him to other girls and I tried to make him happy. Because other people had it worse. Because, if not for him, I would have have had it worse too. As high school passed, I grew to be rather pretty. And I used that to hurt the boys, who had so carefully snuck in punches when the teachers weren't looking. I used this to tear apart the girls, who had lead competitions of who could cast the most lugies in my eyes. The entire time I told myself, "This isn't bad, other people have it so much worse than them. I have had it so much worse than them." I went on to college. I went on to make friends with the artists and the philosophers. They accepted me, I think, because of my beauty. But they didn't really see me as one of them. And I found myself, still, using every spare moment between classes to hide under my bed. There, I read; there, I played video games; there, I slept and daydreamed - and I was so very, very grateful for food and warmth and, above all else, that I was safe. But college cannot last forever. People called me a 'golden child'. People told me that I was lucky, because my Daddy and Mommy paid for me to get an education. But what people didn't know where the things I was doing, the things that I was allowing to be done to me, in exchange for that right. And I still pray that people will never find out. Woe is me, right? Aww, the poor white girl thinks she had a rough life. Poor, little, stupid thing. Ya, maybe. Whatever. But, dear reader, what you need to know, what you need to take away from this is the following: I was in hell. I had seen and felt some horrible things. But the thing that would hurt the most was not to be my capture. It was not the rape. It was not, even, the feeling of my hands and feet being severed from my body. What would hurt the worst, then and always, was the betrayal of a friend. A friend who, when all is said and done, had once made me feel safe.
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Void Walker
Earth was dying. God gave humanity a chance, to save them. And they seized it. Humanity chose its path to survive. But was it really worth it? The environment was no longer in danger, beasts were no longer on the verge of extinction. Earth was no longer dying. And Humans got what they wanted. Maybe? Sometimes, a path can lead to a dead end. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I may or may not be regularly publishing new chapters~~ PS: Since english is far from being my first language, I am looking for a proofreader >.>
8 168CHRONICLES of a PC Gamer Stuck Inside an RPG Book One: Duelist
[2/28/19 update: The CHRONICLES series has been removed from Kindle Unlimited. This means the beta version of this series is now available on RR. Enjoy!] Meet Lawrence Eugene Mulligan, a fantasy writer by day and avid PC gamer by night. One day, he woke up and found himself in another world, inside an RPG (role playing game). This litRPG genre web serial chronicles Larry's trials in trying to survive and find a way home. Book One: Duelist covers the first seven days of Larry's adventures inside Britannia. It is a slice-of-life magical realism story with LitRPG elements. This serial is written by Antony W.F. Chow, and the work has been officially published on Amazon: https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B075SRPWZT The cover was created by Sid Ceaser using Dreamstime.com stock photo ID #30738296, Old Medieval Street; and the original image was copyrighted by Unholyvault. The image was used based on Dreamstime.com's Royalty Free license. All rights reserved.
8 120Personal Agency
It is better to die knowing. Listen. The world as you know it is not as you know it. It is a construction, a facade, a mural painted over the world to hide the fact that it is very broken on some fundamental levels. That there exists an entire spiritual realm, one of cognition and perception and memory and that it teems with awful life. The world was not made for us. Jacob Irwing is a fairly normal 26 year old American man. He's an amateur photographer, unmarried and does not work in his chosen field. He is also dying, right now, in the first chapter of this story. Someone has put a bullet in him. Agent Z is a fairly abnormal woman of no nationality. Her age is classified. Her name is classified. Her background? You better believe it's classified. She works for the people who hide the truth. She is going to wake up with a hole in her head in the first chapter of this story, surrounded by corpses and also by a dying fairly normal 26 year old American man. Burned and seemingly abandoned by the Agency, Agent Z has lost her memory, her security clearance and her authorisation. All that she's gained is Jacob, who is thoroughly in this shit now. Together they must work to uncover the truth, if any such thing even exists, in this erratic urban fantasy weird-fic. Updates every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Australian time.
8 209Otherworld's Game (GameLit)
Leighton Grenville was only strolling around with his best friend on Saturday morning when suddenly, he was transported to another world for mysterious reasons As he arrived at the Otherworld, The System had informed him that a total of 13 people from Earth got transported to the Otherworld as they were, including him, invited to play a game. He thought it was a fun game but little did he know, it was a different type of “fun” game. The participants were to play an elimination game — to kill each other. The last standing man will receive a crucial title for both Otherworld and Earth. Left with no choice, Leighton had decided to play the game of death with the utmost of his strategic skills. *** Cover art made by my "cousin", WitheredSage.You should check out his fiction, too! [participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
8 134Havenbrook Star
An informed population is a well prepared population. Leading the News in Havenbrook since 1994.
8 75The infamous twin ( G!P ) x Natasha Romanoff
Zara and Zima were twins, both born as daughters of the Lucifer ( Lucifer Morningstar ) Zima always known for being a calm and friendly person as of Zara was more known for being a trouble maker and causing problems. For their 21st birthday they wish to go to earth. When arriving at earth they both find love one with Maximoff and the other with Romanoff . Let's see how these completely different twins do alongside the avengers.
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