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Mystic: Prologue + Ch. 1Mystic: Prologue + Chapter One
by Raynn Everheart
The empty cavern, dark and dreary, lay underground in unknown silence. Unknown besides a man by the name of Deuce, and his servants. One by the name of Damien, whom is the head, standing just below Deuce in power. This man, looking of the age 18, is quite quiet. Damien is more of the jittery type, but really can kill when in a dire situation. Deuce, on the other hand, is just the opposite in personality. The head of the Land of Misfortune, a place right below the Underworld. Only little souls are taken there. Deuce is quite a greedy man, looking of the age 30. He will kill with no hesitation and will stop at nothing to get what he wants. These two men are headstrong and passionate about their ways of life, those ways including keeping the world way out of balance.
The Lord of Darkness, Deuce clenched his hands together with an impatient spark in his dim amber eyes. He squeez
Long Live The King"Long live the king..."
It all flashed at that measly, tiny sentence. The simple four words practically drove a claw
through my heart.
My own brother.
Is this what he was plotting all along?
To kill me and take my place as king?
King- What about Simba? His sudden cry echoed in my ears. "No!" It made me let out a loud,
Everything flashed. My back hurts. Is my leg supposed to stick out this way? I'm bleeding.
It's all fading away.
Simba, never forget.
'I live in you.' Is what I would have said to him if I could make my jaws work. The little
sniffles of tears rolling down his tiny face broke my heart. I wanted to hold him
Goodbye Simba, I have to go. I guess it's my time.
Turning around, I padded off to join the great kings of the past.
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More