The weather is rainy, but it doesn't affect the life of this city's people. And when the night comes, does the drops of rain remain same? I wonder.

Germany, 1952. Set in the world several years after WWII, a young boy named Tobi decides to confess his love to Lisa, a girl he admires, just to see how she got together with his best and only friend. Thinking his day couldn't get any worse, Tobi's been told by his father that he'll be sent to an...

Every day, I go to that elevator, I never knew who Iam, where Iam or what Iam doing here, I only follow people wearing white coats, Iam always asking myself, am I gonna leave this place one day? Is what Iam doing useful? I am not the only kid here, there is others, but they always disappear afte...

An anthology of very short and unedited works I haven't continued! These were when I was very inspired and words just came out very quickly.

When a human and a vampire meet, there can be many outcomes. Though, in this case, they decide to have a simple conversation. The big question on their minds being what made them so different?

He was her love, her only love She had loved him since she could remember and would love him forever She would never love anyone else but him and he... he would be capable of putting the world at her feet

When I was selected by my people to be sent as tribute to serve the Queen of a nation across the ocean, I felt as though my life was over. At best, I'd be nothing more than a trophy wife to some aristocrat, and at worst, I'd be nothing more than a slave. Looking back, however, nothing could have ...

In this world, there are two types of people. Those who are enamored by death, falling for the deity Thanatos. Those who are blessed by life, loved by the deity Eros. On a certain Christmas Eve, one man, all on his lonesome, sits on the rooftop of a company building. When he contemplates his...

Two nations, under one sun, and watchful their eye As children grow older and then led to die Beneath there, the corpses of brethren lie For under the soil, we toil and cry

The gun was dead weight in Zion’s hand, its metallic bite leaching through his skin and into the bone, as if he were gripping winter itself. His fingers twitched around the trigger, useless, betraying him, while the taste of pennies and bile spread across his tongue. Fear wasn’t a rush—it was a s...