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the bells rang and the serpents sang, as the sisters went to war, the youngest groaned and warned, her pleadings were ignored, As The Sisters went to war, Each slap and punch each scratch and blow did find its target true, But where there once was three now there were only two. the Eldest they did mourn for each stitch of clothing shorn. as the youngest lay with eyes glazed her body ripped and torn. as the bells rang and the serpents sang as the new dawn was born. the Sisters had went to war the warnings they had ignored for while they bled their sister fled and they found her cold and dead.

*Beep*Beep*Beep*Beep* "All Agents Prepare For Rift Jump, All Agents Prepare For Rift Jump" The announcement and beeping were constant as the exploration team suited up. for the past year they had been in training and today was the day they'd be tested. "Are we ready for this Elaine?"asked Alexandra Larouche. "As ready as we will ever be Alex,this is something no one can be prepared for,atleast not til we come back" replied Elaine while sticking a field lab kit on to the velcro bandolier across her chest. the door to the locker room rose up as captain Garret Mckee entered with four security personnel, everyone turned to look at him as he

between the lines nothing stirs and nothing dances nothing holds us all together nothing holds the world as one without nothing there is still nothing no matter how closely you look there is always nothing in between nothing binds and nothing holds nothing is what we breath nothing lasts forever nothing gives and nothing takes nothing is perfect nothing shall never fade

I am Death,the debt all pay, from the grave I come alone, and to the grave I return as many, from their mouths comes a song of silence earth and decay, as the Angels sing and the Devils laugh, the skies break and straight from heaven to hell the angels fall.

Hey diddle diddle The Cat's lost the fiddle And the Cow has broken the Moon And the Little Dog cries, as the Dish took the lives of the Forks the Knives and the Spoon

The Day of the Spiders. I woke up and all was fine, five minutes later im running for my life down the road from a fucking tidal wave of spiders, big ones small ones all black and furry and making me shudder. I pass by people as I do they pop and a whole new surge of spiders comes swarming out of their now dried out husks. oh what a day its been ten minutes and im running for my life from what is my greatest fear, just wonderful. after half an hour of running for my life i actually look behind me apparently the gods be-damned creepie-crawlies are far behind, then i look around, the whole damned city as far as i can see is covered in webs(

Old Roger sat by the fire puffing on his pipe as the crowd ebbed and flowed through the Barroom. lifting his gaze from the fire he checked out the window, the sun was close to setting  the smattering of clouds lightly colored pink and orange while the rest of the sky was a uniform gray. Roger turned his gaze back into the Inn, recalling memories as he looked around the room. He had once stood behind the bar that his grandson now worked, the great mass made of solid oak, now black with age and etched with messages-some of which had been there since he was a boy- acting as a fortress against the siege of the crowd. a deep rolling

Bleached white bones grinning at me up in the branches of the hangman's tree Blacked skin falling from the bone guard man says best go home stony skull staring at me tells to listen to the ravens three The Ravens three circle my head and shout in their cries that on the morrow I am dead

Prologue: The Beginning of the End Conflict builds character. Crisis defines it. - Steven V. Thulon A delicate ribbon of cigarette smoke curled upwards towards the rafters and then disintegrated. A meaty hand slammed a shot glass on to the mahogany surface, smashing it into smithereens. Grot, the bartender, gave the owner of the hand a cold glare but refrained from uttering the complaints that were threatening to burst from his mouth. He continued cleaning the pint glass with his old chequered cloth, a family heirloom, and kept a close eye on the great bulk of a man who seemed to have something against his mediocre quality shot glasses. Th