

Prologue New Way To Be HumanNew Way to Be Human Prologue An 8 year old boy laid on the heavy metal ground, in throbbing and burning pain. He cried softly, he wanted it all to end. Why are they doing this? Was it because he was a bad boy? Or was it that he is worthless? Foots steps could be faintly heard from the other side of the sixteen inch super durable glass window that allowed the scientists to look in at him, not the other way around. The boy tried to stop crying, the last time he was caught crying, he was beaten. The door whooshed open. "Quickly! The next round of guards will be aroundPrologue New Way To Be Human


Part Two "Stargaze" The man didn't speak, for fear of slipping even more. I frowned and closed the link. I grip the control stick with my right hand. I increase to attack speed by gliding my left middle finger and index finger forward on my chair's arm. The squares that made up the rectangle lit bright yellow, save for the last four squares. I stare at my target sweeper, it was focused on the Orion's engines. It turned from yellow, to orange. I was closing in, almost there. Orange to red, I let the hell hounds loose. About fifty missals where spiraling at there target.Part Two "Stargaze"
The Orion let flares out from its


Part One Of 'Stargaze'Looking through the database of the entirety of Earths old culture, something caught my eye. It was an old painting, labeled The Scream, for obvious reasons. It displayed an old wooden boardwalk, with a strangely shaped human head was fixed in an expression of screaming. I have never seen anything like it, but I didnt like it, it didnt give me any reason to keep looking at it. I was so damn bored just floating in orbit over Yuam Six, an industrial planet, with few forests.Part One Of 'Stargaze'
My ship was not a large one; in fact, my Nova class escort ship is fairly larger than a fighte


Elijah FedorovName: Elijah FedorovElijah Fedorov
Age: At death - 21 Present 151
Race(Ex. Native American, Caucasian, Japanese): Russian
Species: Lost Soul
Personality: Sarcasm often crosses his eyes. Without much too live for, he'll twiddle his thumbs for hours and not even realize it. Boredom is his best friend, and as for his worst enemy, well
Life itself.
Following his wit, his voice will often tremble with a longing for what once was that grows stronger every day. He is often depressed with the world and what it has come to, and prefers to keep a solemn face. When made happy,
--
"recognition is the fuel of the artist"
please visit my gallery [link]
Previous Page12345...Next Page