animexwritinglover

“Almost a hundred disappearances in the last month. The police have no lead. No trace of evidence. No way to find the killer, or the kidnapper, or whoever. But not long ago, just one note shows up. Scrawled on it are five words. Five simple words. Written in red ink. ‘I know where they are.’ It arrived just a week ago, crumpled in an old, yellowed envelope. The corners were bent and worn and the rain had made the return address nearly illegible. A few letters were clear, but the rest lay smeared on the paper, the red ink turning orange on the yellowed envelope. We have no idea what to think of it. Is it a joke? A childish p

A lifetime jail sentence, and the only way out is to win the game against him. He, the master of it all, is the bearer of your future. Some say he has no name, and some say his name, if it even exists, is never to be spoken on the lips of any living person. Never has a mortal seen more than a quick flash of his face behind the shadows, and even less, heard his voice. He is the dealer, and the man who stands between you and your future. If you challenge him and you win, you gain your freedom and your sentence is erased. But, if you lose, your punishment is death… We all call him the Dealer, because he deals your life to you, one card at

Lying in the hospital bed bores me, but I have no other choice. The IV is stuck into my arm, delivering chemotherapy medicine and a constant sting of the needle poking into my vein. I long to sit in the treatment room with the other chemo patients, but the doctor says I’m too sick to go out there. Not that it really matters, because this is my last treatment. After this one, they stop. No more needles sticking into my veins and no more hospital visits. Well, I guess just one long one. I’m never leaving this place, so it’s really not a visit. This is the last place I’ll be before I die. In this hospital bed, in this roo

Poison. It dwells outside. Choking animals, destroying plants, killing humans. It is invisible, yet more dangerous than any other substance that can be seen by the human eye. Blood and ashes stain Central America. The sky is grey, and the slight wind cold. A wind of such of such slight power would typically never have an ice as this one, yet it would chill all, who step into its path, to the bone. Their blood would run cold, and become frigid, freezing in their veins. But who would dare to step out. None exist above the surface. They remain in the shelters, safe, but scared. Any who did not make it to the shelters in time were killed. Those,

Looking into the past, what have I done? What have I done wrong to deserve this hatred from him? I try my best, to make life better for him, and now he just walks away like it was nothing… He stands in front of the mirror those words swirling through his head. His blonde disheveled hair hangs past his brows and into his emerald green eyes; those eyes that we all knew before, so full of happiness and joy, now show no trace of that now. Those eyes that we knew so well that now show nothing but sadness and loneliness.  He longs for the past; for life to be how it was before. The world before, so happy and filled with adventure, and now it

Part: 1 Alfred stands shaking, trembling in fear, as he is forced to stare straight down the barrels of four rusted metal handgun barrels as they are slowly raised to his head. He is surrounded, no way out. Feliciano and Kiku, encompass him each bearing two guns, their hands shaking as well. Alfred’s left cheek and right arm are bleeding profusely from the previous beating from Ludwig. Bruises cover his body too, as do other large scratches and cuts. The gash on his arm reaches the bone, and the red liquid drains out of it, staining the cobblestone street. He escaped from Ludwig, but was only to be caught again by the two who stand in f

Hetalia story 2 The defining alarm rings blares in your ears, and pounds in your head as you drop to the ground by the barbed wire fence. The dirt smudges your clothes as you land; the dust flies up in a cloud. Arthur motions for you to proceed under the fence, and to hurry. The last thing you want is to get recaptured again. He lifts the wire high enough for you to climb under, and he narrows his eyes in pain from the sharp hooks piercing his skin. His back is bloodied and torn from the beating from the whip earlier for stealing, in order to help you. “-----------, hurry up” he demands, the alarm is too loud, but you manage to

Black, the color of death, blindness, night, and fear surrounds you. Your eyes slowly blink open, hardly affecting how you see the dark world. You shake your head, in an attempt to clear away the cloudy darkness.  A creak somewhere in the encasing shadows causes you to bolt up straight, your senses instantly honed. Your hand runs across the splintered floor, delivering pain immediately. Your mind is foggy and you strain to remember any information, but all memories have all since left, dissolving into the thin dark air. Another creak sends you up to your feet; your heart beat accelerates to an alarming pulse. You slowly turn in a circle and