Alukard-Abysswalker

Rain pours down on him, it feels heavy. Heavy like chunks of iron, bludgeoning and bruising his flesh. Of course, water doesn’t work that way, unless it comes as a crashing wave taller than a house. But it feels that way, and in the numbness of this moment, that is all that Jacob can do.  Feel. Feel the water drops on him, the lack of wind that makes them feel heavier, the silence all around mixed with the noise in his mind. Jacob feels his heart beating inside, slow and with no rush. This angers him, for how dare it still beat behind muscle, sinew, bone and skin when it should have been ripped out. It should be somewhere else, separated from his flesh, not just his soul. This anger fades, the frustration stays but only as a flicker, or the embers of a bonfire that died long ago. He does not have the energy to be angry, and he is unwilling to summon more of it. Why should he now? He does so all the time, at every step he takes to either recover his life or make it anew. So why shou...

Tomás se sentía como un rey en su flamante nuevo vehículo, un auto eléctrico que se conducía solo. Bueno, no, pero de vez en cuando podía soltar el volante y dejarse llevar. Cuando no había otros autos en la calle, o personas, o árboles sobre las cuadras. El diseño era perfecto, salvo por algunos defectos que serían fáciles de corregir con el tiempo. No es que él supiera mucho de autos, no de autos tradicionales al menos, pero en tema de autos eléctricos sabía un montón. No se molestó en aprender sobre el diseño de “los chinos” y si bien BMW y Ferrari mostraban algunas mejoras interesantes, nada superaría al que compró luego de años de ahorro. La mayoría de sus amigos se podría haber comprado uno en el día, pero a Tomás no le molestaba admitir que a diferencia de ellos, él necesitaba ahorrar. Se sentía orgulloso de “haberse hecho desde abajo”, lo cuál lo hacía la envidia de su grupo de amigos (para ser justos, dicho grupo de “amigos” no sentía otra cosa que envidia, salvo tal vez odio ...

There was a king that few have heard of. Some said he was no man, as what man could do as he did and still smile? A golden king, one of many who would cover themselves in wealth to symbolise their distance from the common folk, always dressed in the most expensive and extravagant clothes. His reign was short but terrifying, the sort that leaves behind legends that last far longer than one’s own name . He ruled in leisure, caring little for his responsibilities as king, something that most around him encouraged. It was easier for his advisors, his  generals and so-called allies to get what they wanted if he didn’t put any effort towards the governing of their kingdom. So as he paid them no mind they returned in kind, this king was able to do as he pleased. He drank, ate, coupled and danced as much as he wanted for as long as he wanted, knowing no one could or would say a word against it. Every pleasure, every pain, every piece of land, valuables or person was his to use and abuse. H...

  “Ever since I could comprehend the taste of metal , I knew my flesh to be weak. It wasn’t the simple practice of using tools, nor the worship of the machine through physical touch, but the literal taste of metal pressed on my tongue. It was the way in which the blade hit my taste buds, that delicious metallic flavor that made me feel in contact with the God of the Machine . That was a taste of divinity, but it was also a show of my weakness, the desires of the flesh that made me think of bliss when I should have considered the danger to my life. When the thugs of the inquisitor made me savor their blades in mockery, before the holy Tech Adept saved me from their corruption, I was enraptured in divine bliss when I should have understood my position. The flesh is weak, my brothers, so make sure to remember-” “Too wordy.” Malacheus turned around, seeing his brother and underling shaking his head. “Get to the point.” “The point?” He could have strangled him, stabbed him through his...

 The thud that his power pack made was not loud enough. Not as echoey as it should be. “Is that a word? ‘Echoey?’” Mike turned to Jaz expecting an answer or something. “Eh.” Was all he got from his Catachan comrade. “Aight, but you get me, yes?” He insisted. “No one gets you, Mikol.” She reiterated, if not in words then definitely in humor. “C'mon, power packs are meant to be heavy, therefore they make a very loud thud when hitting the floor. Am I right? Yue?” If Jaz was unwilling to converse, Yue was disgusted by the mere concept. At least judging by how they were already settling down for the night. “Please tell me you're not going to sleep already.” Mike practically begged. “Then I won't tell you,” was the Cadian ’s reply. “You will infer something from my snoring though.” “You overestimate his intelligence.” Corroborated Jaz to which they both snickered together, much to Mike’s dismay. “Don't give me that!” He yelled at them as they laughed. “I am right! It is too...

Lucia mira por la ventana, pensando. Hace tiempo que vé todo, no a través de la ventana si no en su cabeza. Piensa en su mamá, cansada, harta de todo. Piensa en su papá, cansado, negado a ver el bien en nada que no sea dinero. Ningune es mala persona, pero no necesitan serlo. La manera en la que se ven entre sí está armada, prefabricada. No es que no haya amor, quizás lo hay, es que tienen una deficiencia para explorar sus emociones. Una deficiencia que hace tiempo se volvió una elección. Por otro lado, ¿Y ella? Ha hecho mucho trabajo, le ha metido mucha garra. Pero aunque le cueste, lo hace. El tema es que con una brújula rota es difícil saber dónde estás. ¿Cuánto exagera al reaccionar con tristeza? ¿Dónde y en qué contexto gritar es poco apropiado? ¿Con quiénes y durante qué conversaciones es adecuado llorar? Lucía piensa, como siempre ha hecho. Taza de café en mano, mejilla pegada al vidrio frío sobre el que gotea la lluvia. Duele, quizás hay algo de masoquismo en ello. Quizás es qu...

Faith Park is a remarkable place, full of wonders for all to see. Why we’ve got everything from crosses, to charms, from dried up husks, to incense and all the works! Yes sir, in here you’ll find everything your soul desires, unless of course you’re in the #enlightenment era  on your way to Nirvana. In that case we have everything and anything you’d need to keep away any material desires. Budda himself would admit to being proud of you once you’re out! But of course we ain’t narrow minded at all. Perhaps you’re more on the African side, your worship is less temple and more practice, in the fields and with the people. We know that well enough so we’ll give you every tool that you need. Or if you’re a first timer of the first nations well, every shop in here has every piece of herb, animal hide and bone that you may need for any and all of your days of worship. Now sir we of course mean no disrespect, if ya got any complaints let our chief inspector know they’ll make sure to write it...

 Marilyn loved the piano, the sweet sounds of ivory hitting strings hitting the air, vibrating at the perfect frequency to make a human feel connected to the universe, connected to God’s divine instrument for designing His universe. She had tried them all, or well plenty of them. Guitar, harp, theremin, zither, sitar. She had traveled far and wide and tried and tried. But it was the piano that spoke to her. Of a loving God and the embrace of melodious miracles that were always there to be heard. It is an instrument of course, a piano is a way to live through the music of the world. Yet something wasn’t entirely there that night. Years of practice had taught her a lot, covering her fingers with callouses, making her wrists ache with the tension of hours upon hours of practice, until her fingers were stiff with the joyful soreness of training. But she had learned above all when the one out of tune was herself. Disconnected with that divine frequency, body and soul elsewhere. Because ...

 Hey everyone! So sorry for banishing like that. As I mentioned in my last update I started writing a book for a contest, unfortunately I couldn’t do as I planned and write short stories for the blog. On the flip side I am happy to announce I FINISHED A WHOLE BOOK!!!! 129 pages full of fantasy stories about a world with no humans and exploring what their cultures would look like. Funny enough, while I am ecstatic with having done it, there’s still a lot in future stories I would love to improve upon. Unfortunately I won’t be able to share it in English soon, both because it's in Spanish but also because I gotta wait until the contest is done. But the good thing is that a  wonderful friend of mine is going to help translate it into English! For the time being I’ll continue to write stories for this blog since I want an outlet. So, look forward to next week, when I’ll have something new up in here! Safe travels and take care, my friend.

The sizzling of barely organic materials, that is synthetic herbs meant to simulate real herbs, along with the warmth of the lighter, made Silena think of those weird ads on fake meditation she kept seeing every time she browsed for some new gear. “Fucking rangers” She was sick and tired of them, pathetic boys born with a real silver spoon in their mouths, calling themselves rangers, like they were some brave adventurers heading into the unknown. When all they were doing was invest in failed capital ventures and sinking their tenth company of the year. But never facing any consequences. The new trend was meditation. That is, pretending to “commute with the universe” using their overprized V.R. headsets while you listen to the most ridiculous, bastardized lines from books the creators never read in a clearly racist accent. Because god forbid they hire the right person for the job, instead of the cheapest. She took a long, deep breath. Drinking in the smoke. Fuck, it was bad for her but ...

So!   Hello everyone! I wanted to give an update for what I'll be posting these next few weeks.   Since I will be participating in a (spanish only) writing competition that will require a whole book to be written, I'll be dedicating most of my energy into that. Instead here I'll be sharing some short stories I'll write that require less effort and will (hopefully) allow me to have a rest from the main work. Not much else to add. Wish me luck and I hope you keep following me on this journey.   Safe travels and take care, my friend.

  Marlene - TMA Hunt Avatar OC       GERRY: Alright, well, let me explain how this works.     GERALDINE: Don’t worry sweetheart, I know what you’re looking for. Some scary stories from my hometown.     GERRY: Well, one specifically-     GERALDINE: So, when do we start?!     GERRY: Uh well…statement of Geraldine Napier, on the sightings of a possible lycanthrope around her residence. GERALDINE: A what? Oh, nevermind, keep going.     GERRY: Statement given the 22nd of January, 2009. Recorded by Gerard Delano, archival assistant of The Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.     GERALDINE: I was having a cup of tea with my friend Marlene. Oh she's the sweetest woman you've ever seen, a heart of gold with an unfortunate bad taste in men. I've only known her for a few years now, but I can tell you, she simply does not know how to choose them! And we call her out on it! Every time she gets her pure little hear...

Log of Diana Iglesias T3-22. Night: Test. Test. I hope this is working, Brian says I should record my logs but this is more comfortable to me. I'm not too confident in my voice yet so I'd rather have it written. Alright check, check. Yeah, it's working. So! As it says on the tin my name is Diana, I am part of the Waste Removal team working for Utopic Corp. A company specialized in Bioengineering for the future! As their tagline reads. I'm a cadet, your run of the mill garbage girl (heh) helping get rid of everything that gets dumped around the galaxy. That makes it sound way more adventurous than it is. Brian and I, he operates the machinery, are on an abandoned research and development station at the far edge of the ouroboros asteroid belt. Not the fanciest of places but we get by, it's an easy job to do and the pay is…well, it's enough, hopefully.  We move waste around. Wires, scrap of all varieties, lost or abandoned tools. It can be dangerous if you're n...