Torvus

 The inky blackness prevented sight. A lantern could only do so much against such oppressive gloom. It was almost as if something wanted what was in the caverns to be forgotten for all time. A cell, with the key thrown away and long forgotten. The small light only elucidated the small patch of ground immediately beneath and ahead of her. Even the cavern walls were invisible. That did nothing to deter her. Even her loved ones' warnings were no match for her insatiable curiosity. She took another defiant step forward. In the dark, her short trek felt like it took an eternity. Time gets... funny... in the dark. It could have been minutes, hour

Nosferatu Through the dark night, he walks. The unaware, the innocent, he stalks. He is the Noble Dead, You’ve heard stories, they circle in your head. Blood red eyes, pale skin, long fangs. His thirst for blood comes in agonizing pangs. He must find one on which to feed. Such people are not difficult for him to read. He has done so for centuries, They often come to him, eager to please. From them, he must be invited, No mortal rules can indict him. Once they let him in, he is an addiction, A powerful presence, a lingering affliction. One day, their loved ones will find them dead, But not before he will have fled, To sta

The Unknown Soldier He stands upon the hill, if only by the force of his will, To face the enemy all around, his comrades they do surround. Fear can be seen in his eyes, hope therein dies, The fallen have been revealed; their fate is sealed. The enemy screams for blood, they break upon his line like a flood, Fighting with fury fueled by fear, he knows in his heart that death is near. Despair finds its nest, in the heart beating in his chest, It is a crow that feeds, the last thing he needs. His feet stand fast, thinking of the past. The flash of gunfire, the moon flies higher. His life will end on the barrel of a gun, never again t

Each one needs the other. Darkness and light, day and Night Could there be anything that differed more? And yet, without each other, They could not exist. Life and death, good and evil. Each needs the other. Otherwise one would be smothered. Warmth and cold, youth and age. If you were never warm, then you’d never be cold. If you were never young, then you’d never be old. If nothing was good, then none could be bad. If you were never alive, how could you be dead? If it was never dark, then it couldn’t be light. If you never had a day, then you’d wouldn’t know it was night. Darkness and light, day and nig

The elf wasn’t scared; Judas could see it in his eyes. The elf was a soldier in the elven army and Judas was an orc Baresarkesh, known to the elves and humans as a berserker. Berserkers were normally nice, polite and quiet orcs, quite the opposite of a normal orc. When on the battlefield, however, they changed. They became ferocious warriors, capable of anything but feeling pain. Even so, something in this elf’s eyes affected Judas. He fell out of his berserk rage. The elf’s eyes were cold, emotionless even. The magic imbued in Judas’ skin faded until he next fell into his rage. The orcan war party accompanying Judas on th