“What, what is this place? Why have you brought me here; have you not tormented me enough,” said Osiris. He was now standing at a pond, a pond where the reflections of anything that stood before it became lost as their owners did the same. It was only ever told in fairy tales about a pond that could give one life or death; most would assume the result would be death, as it was known to have been created by the virulent Amara. Continue reading “Osiris and the Planet Black Hole”
Here I was, at Barbie’s new home, her new playhouse as some would call it—it had an awkward feeling, nothing welcoming at all, nothing that felt remotely like home; if anything, it felt like the home of Frankenstein, as all I would witness was madness and the baring of slight suspicion within the room. The place was cold, had a smell not usually identifiable to the nose—lingering within the nostrils, no matter how hard you blew, never able to escape, not a cold, not a flu. As well was it poorly lit—making it difficult for even ones with twenty, twenty vision to see, and for that I found where I laid would not be my cup of tea, not warm, nor cold, but neutral. Continue reading “Tonka and Barbie”
Ron and I still had the painting of Mona Lisa—the painting would maintain its mint conditioning, but I would fear for how long. And so, I kept it close, pressing it against my sternum, but gently, I didn’t want to ruin the one reason to why Ron and I were here—a world magical to only the books I’d read to my little princess, Dalila. And I didn’t trust Ron, my so-called partner in crime—crime was a thing he was champion at, but a partner I’d always second guess. He’d always reek of dishonor and lies, the very traits a criminal should have; however, Ron still had a heart, he wanted to be back home just as much as I, to try and win back the heart of the woman he’d lost—the painting would be his ticket back in her heart. Continue reading “My Reasons Why”
Hey everyone and happy Wednesday 😊 I’d like to take time to say thank you all for supporting the Pacharcblog, I really appreciate the love shown and the fantastic writers I have met down the road. And as much as I’d love to keep giving you all praise as you all deserve, I must move forward with the other reason for writing this post.
There will no longer be three post a week, as I am putting more focus into the book I have been working on for quite some time now—stay tuned, it is almost finish 😊. On that note, there are a lot of series that I have started on the blog as most of you already know, and feel I owe it to you guys, including myself to finish them. So I decided I would make a calendar of when the continuation of these stories would be released—so that you are aware of what is going on, I don’t want you guys to feel like I’m bailing on you lol.
The first continuation will be to “My Reasons Why,” if you have not read episode 1 yet, go check it out, promise you wont be disappointed, I hope lol—just simply type the title of it into the search engine on the right side of the page and it will bring you to it. The release date episode 2 will be on September 29th, this Saturday @ 2pm. After that release I will be continuing “Tonka and Barbie,” which will be released October 8th , Sunday @ 7pm. To find out more about the dates and times click on the Upcoming Tab which I have just added to the site.
Here is something short to leave you all with for your time and patience😊
I can tell by her laugh that she’s the one, but wise man would say that I was too afraid to say anything, worrying that I’d be no fun. You got no chance, the little boy next to me would say, but he was just a child—what all the girls would call a little bae. But will she understand me, or think I’m too nice—the dagger to a good man’s heart, the cut of a blade, the cut of a knife. But my kindness is my strength, an underrated gift—one today that everyone looks as if a myth. And the way she stares into my eyes is enough to make any man shy away, but I promised even to the heavens, that today would be my day. She walks by and all I can ever notice is her smell, giving reason to why the guy next to me had fell. Sarcastic, but the man was truly unconscious, beauty had struck again, I felt this was my chance—until another would swoop in with a name that rhymed with romance. Lance was a charming one and a cocky on for that, but he’d always strike out, not matter how hard he swung the bat—physically and mentally. And as she talked with me for only a moment, I could tell she felt the same, as love was all that could, and ever remained. But we both still hesitate, no affection to give, waiting any longer and we both have yet to truly live. And as I now look into the future, I can see that there was no worry, Rosita was the one, and so this poem I will burry.
Double or triple, I’d ponder, maybe even a quad, but I feared that make me a goner. There was at least seven behind me waiting to laugh at my rejection, but I couldn’t wait, I had to espresso my affection. Barista girls cheeks would then turn red as her chocolatey eyes sparkled, I could see my words were smooth enough to leave her somewhat startled. But coffee, my coffee as she stirs you up, can you feel through her delicate hands that I honestly had any luck. The numbers written on your forehead would tell me otherwise, as you now have become my greatest prize. The following day she and I would leave the park with coffee on the ground, love was in the air, for that even our coffee cups had found.
“Let there be light,” professor Golem would say. The whole classroom was still, no one said a word, only gazed towards the front of the room . “I said, let there be light,” the professor would repeat. And still no reaction from the class was given—there was no light, one would say behind me. A pile of research would then clutter the classroom ceiling, and by the looks of it, lord only knew what this person was feeling. Continue reading “Class of Golem”
There she was, Barbie—beautiful as can be, her heart was my sky, and her eyes were my sea. She was everything I wanted in a woman, in this life, all that I wanted to see, but I was just a machine—I was just an old dusted up truck, one in which I felt no one wanted anymore, one that would run out of luck. Continue reading “Tonka and Barbie”
The world has changed a lot from when I was a child, and sometimes it doesn’t even feel like I fit in at all, not anymore—maybe I was born of a different planet, and that my parents hadn’t found the courage to tell me yet, these of course were just guesses, but the things others would say, would make me feel otherwise. People would always say that I’m too nice or to kind, but what kind of world would we be in, if always serious, if always rude to one another, what would that mean for our humanity, our existence, I thought. Continue reading “My Chivalry, My Soul”
Let’s be honest, being a bat wasn’t always that great—you’re in the dark all the time, and your thirst for blood is unbearable—your tiny enough just to get crushed by any other species in attempt to obtain it. Bianca was always the best at controlling her urges, her hunger, she knew it all. She would always tell us that the gods had given us the freedom to feed on any animal of our choosing, but never any of the living—that being the humans, in which non had ever encountered. Continue reading “Cornelia Dracula”
Here we were, all three of us—the beauty, the beast, and I. I’d now learned all that I needed of the mystery behind the victim that was murdered—more so, I’d now learn just how jealous the beast was. He was an insecure one, one that would do just about anything to keep the drool of other men from falling onto his precious, his love—that in which appeared to be more of a prisoner than anything.
I wasn’t always like this. I used to be free, I used to be graceful, yet grateful of this life—especially when I was amongst the others. People today would call it conformity, but it wasn’t it all like that—we were a family. We gathered food together, we traveled together, we played together, and most of the time, laughed together—it was truly an artistic life, one that I never wished the paintbrush to leave. Continue reading “What I was”
Love never knew that she was sick. Every day as I watched her come back from work, I could tell that a piece of her was missing—that the parasite would not only control her mind, but her body. But it wasn’t her fault—why she lost control—the parasite became stronger as the days went on, feeding off whatever negative emotions came from her fears, or others. Continue reading “Saving Love”
Strawberries, cherries, and a dash of sugar were my ingredients, but there was always something missing—something that would give it a kick. I’d try lemon, but it made it slightly sour, I’d try lime, but it only made it bitter—my tongue never appreciated such taste, but I was chef, and for that, it was my tongues fate—fate to be my sacrificial lamb of experiments, of my special ingredients. Continue reading “Georgette”
Never thought I would be doing this, but it’s the only way. It has to be quick—in and out, just like we planned. But It wasn’t always like this, things use to be much better, peaceful, bright. Continue reading “My Reasons Why”
The sheriff told me that he would need me for further investigation, but I never expected it to take this long. Everyone including myself smelt horribly, we hadn’t showered for at least a whole week, and barely did we eat—my stomach sounded like a hot tea pot as it boiled in aggravation. Continue reading “Beauty of Seattle 2”
It was one of the wettest days of New York, Night was drenched and now even more eager to find his sister as the storms worsened. “The hell am I doing here, what the hell is Ada doing here?” Night thought, but he would come to realize that what he perceived as evil was not evil to others—that what he saw as sins, were not the sins of others, not the sins of his father. Continue reading “One Night, Two Lights”
“What kind of writing is this?” Night asked. “It looks familiar, I swear I’ve seen it before, even the smell of it brings back memory, although the memory is faint.” The letter was no ordinary letter, for that it had the writings of Night’s ancestors, of his childhood. Nights parents had shown him these writings before, however there was only four that he knew of that could’ve known such—his sisters. It couldn’t have been his parents he thought, but they’d passed years ago. Those were sad time for him and his sisters he thought—annoyed by the pain in his heart, he swayed any remembrance of them, at least what was left. But the letter… it still brought curiosity. Continue reading “A Night in New York”
The days were never this cold, but much warmer. Night could feel change in the world, in his world, and sooner or later knew that it would come knocking at his doorstep. In his earlier years, he’d discover his light for the first time, every child had one—but of course, Night was the only one known capable of wielding such, at least with competence. His mother was always concerned for that she felt he was too young for such power—power of the gods. His father on the other hand, was just happy to know he had a boy. He’d already have three little girls after all, and prayed to the heavens that they would one day forgive his sins—sins of the wars he fought, and that they one day bless him with a son—and that day, his prayers would be answered—a new beginning, hope for the village. Continue reading “Night Light”
Growing up I’ve always wanted to be a hero, or some sort of superhero, but I always lacked the special abilities to do so. Batman was of course the closest I could relate to. I was never wealthy man—not like him, but always felt he was like everyone else—normal. He never had any super powers, but he had heart, that’s what my brother always thought. But as much as I felt I could relate to Batman, my favorite was Superman. Continue reading “My Heart, My Kryptonite”
When most people think of living in a space, a space where they can have privacy—they think of a private study or some sort of private resort, a vacation. But not me, whenever I thought of such things, I’d think of the genie and his bottle in that movie “Aladdin” or the show from the sixties— “I dream of Jeannie,” that was always moms favorite show. Continue reading “My head is a Genie bottle”
This woman… I don’t know who she was or what was her purpose, but it seemed ever since she bought my family and I, all she ever cared to do was use us—use us until there was nothing left. And before all of this, our lives were simple, we had peace, no one ever bothered us, although there wasn’t many that came by, came to buy. Continue reading “If I were a Pencil”
The victim was unconscious, their skin was cold as ice and body still as rock. There was no trace of the victim’s attacker, only bite marks of unfamiliarity presented itself. I knew it wasn’t a vampire, for that the bites had more than two punctures aligned with one another. I knew that it was no werewolf, for that the punctures were not large enough—plus, the victims head would no longer be a part of their body if it had been. Before I could even get a grasp of what could have done this, an odd sound appeared from the shadows. I began to get the chills, I was uncertain of what was behind. Continue reading “My Turn”
The wind was subtle, but aggressive, rainstorms and mudslides were all that was formed within the crests of the planet known as Cachiche. Osiris one of the few men of the planet, didn’t know what to expect on that day, he’d thought his life was in the hands of the gods, but questioned why it had to be so—he was never a believer in religion, but it made since, he was from a planet where the people held the title of god, where the people could be the creators, where people held power. In a world left with so many questions to be answered, he felt there would soon be a time he would no longer feel the touch of his wife or the love of his children.
I’ve always had wondering mind, I can’t help it. In a world as crazy as this one, how could anyone free their mind completely. Although, sometimes it isn’t the craziness that distracts us, but the beauty it seems. For every time me and my friend Kyle went to a Starbucks to study, there was always that one woman that would walk in smelling like roses, smelling like heaven—if heaven smelt good, I’d at least think so. Or the woman would wield a radiant glow that wouldn’t blind most men, but freeze them. Being the guys that we were, we’d never build up the courage to introduce ourselves. We’d always make up excuses saying, “Well, she’s probably got a boyfriend.” Or “She looks busy, probably doesn’t have the time for guys or a boyfriend.” But we both knew that we were jumping into conclusion. Kyle however didn’t back down, he always felt guys asked women out way too much and that they should be the ones to do so. I’d agree with Kyle, but there was one problem—she wasn’t the one who was interested, he was—so it would seem that it was Kyle’s move not hers, but he remained seated as always, glancing over his new harry potter book like a lion in the tall grass. Continue reading “Beauty of Seattle”
The world… It’s quite magical when you think about it, if you stand still, just for a moment, you can see just how lively and peaceful it can be. Ferra use to believe the same, but after she went off to serve in the war, everything changed. She was different, not just personality wise, but with people. She always adored meeting new people and more so roses, but what she experienced changed all of that. Continue reading “War of Ferra”
Today is my first day. I’m a little nervous, but I’ve waited my whole life for this opportunity. I can’t chicken out now. I’ve been begging Alexa for to give me this chance for years now, and with the kick ass portfolio I’ve developed—I have to say, it opened the door towards my destiny. Continue reading “The Tattooist”
When I was just a little one, my mother taught me three important lessons—lessons that creatures like she and I needed to know. The first lesson was flying. You were nothing to anyone if you couldn’t fly. My first time trying it was scary, although I must admit, it wasn’t willingly either. I still remember it like it was yesterday, the moment when mom let me go. My body just fell when she did so, plummeting straight for the ground which would determine my fate—the fate if I lived to go on and be big and strong, or just end, right then and there. As I continued to fall, I assumed she wouldn’t just let me die, but what she told me afterwards made me think otherwise. Continue reading “Here I Soar—A Dragon”
Caroline… She was only sixteen when we became official partners in crime. We were just teenagers then—high schoolers, with no clue to what the world had to offer us. Caroline was of course drooled over by all the boys, the jocks, in which I hated the most. They’d always come around us during lunchtime singing that song by Outkast called “Roses”. And it was obvious they only sang it because her name was in it—and man did that song get stuck my head, still annoys me today. I on the other hand, I was just the opposite. I was the loner, the rebel, if you will. No one really cared about me, not any girl, but Caroline did. Continue reading “The Heart of Caroline”
It was always quiet when I was a child, never loud, crazy or exciting. For some that was a surprise, I had four brothers and a sister after all—it was easy to say we were a big family. For the number of us that there were, our parents always made sure we got what we wanted, especially during the holidays, but if you’re thinking we were spoiled—we weren’t. Continue reading “Elmo and I”
The bowman was hungry, he hadn’t eaten for days—at least not since he last had dinner with his family. The days had gotten a lot colder, harsh, and the bowman hadn’t a clue to when he would return—when it was okay to. Continue reading “The Bowman”
The night was cold, yet purifying, the man had discovered something new. He had never seen such a place, let alone one that be so close to his location. However, that wasn’t his concern. He only thought of the scream he heard just moments before entering what he believed to be a sanctuary. He looked everywhere for clues but couldn’t find anything. The man then came across a desolate path—a path of mystery, a path of trickery. He took a step with his left foot and then his right, but as he stepped with his right, he realized he was now upside down. The man was aware he was a bit late to telegraph such a trap, although feared what the trap was laid out for. As he remained swinging by the branch of a tree, he recognized a hat that laid buried beneath the mud. Eager to confirm what it was, the man swayed his upper body side to side to grab it, he missed on his first try. He tried again for the second time missing again—yet, was much warmer than before. He then gave it one more go, swinging as hard as a child on a playground swing. He finally obtained the hat, falling back into full speed towards the tree he hung. As he gazed at the hat he now held in his rugged palms, his head hit the body of the tree. The man was knocked out and was out for quite some time, but once awakened, found himself in a place mystery. Continue reading “Trees: Growth never ends”
The day was hot and muggy. The man stood in front of what appeared to be over a hundred lumberjacks. He tried to explain to them what he saw, what he discovered, but little did anyone care to hear his words. He’d hoped his best friend Jeff would get an idea of what he was talking about, that he’d understand. But not a word was given, not even the slightest bit of movement—it was as if everyone was frozen in time. The man pleaded for understanding. A few of the men he spoke to walked away, frustrated and annoyed. Life was hard enough already, and being that no one needed lumber for the summer—they weren’t making much of a profit in their line of work either. If they sold anything, it was to teenagers and young adults who just wanted to party and have bonfires. The man’s antics however were not over. He felt that he could sway them, only if they knew the truth—knew his truth. Continue reading “Trees: From Root to Stem”
In a planet filled with green and blue, people still seek to find out what was true. It was said that oceans ruled the world, flooding cities and countries making people bow for forgiveness, for they felt their sins were the cause of all its destruction. But the one thing people had forgotten was what watched over them—trees.
How did I get here? —To this place of uncertainty. What promises wait for me as I sit at the tip of this towering cliff. Am I afraid? Am I concerned? It would be no surprise—I have been these things all my life. I guess fear has never really left my side. Continue reading “Fear is my Friend”
My pen… you have always been my greatest weapon, my greatest friend. You know me, you listen to me, and feel what I feel. Are you a replication of me? Or are you truly here to help. You must be here to help—you have been with me since I was a child. Continue reading “My Pen and I”
The wicked woman of the East fled across the Atlantic Ocean, and Masuyo followed. The ocean was destructive, huge—annihilating anything that had the galls to come through its demolition. It was dark and muggy, with waves that rose as high as the mountain terrain. There were signs that had writing of ancient scriptures—ancient enough that not even black beard himself could decode them. The signs were tall, rusty—one could obviously see that they were decades old, although, that was nothing new to the wicked woman. Sea of Neikan, was what some called it. Battles of demons and devils were said to have been held in this treacherous abyss and Masuyo was being led right into it. Continue reading “Masuyo Mask”
The pain, it saddens me. It makes me weak, it makes me regret. I know it is only temporary, but once it goes, it comes back. Is this all life haves to offer me? How many test must I go through and when I am dead, how will I know I won’t have more test? Nothing but suffer I see, are there happy moments as well? And if so, how long will I have them? Why invest in those happy moments if life is waiting just around the corner to take it away from me again and again—what purpose is it all? Continue reading ““Through the grit of a Hero””
It was now the darkest night of winter—some called it Misery. Rain poured rapidly as it pierced through the fur of the animal kingdom. All who were weak ran into cover, ran into terror, but what stayed in its destruction were creatures of courage. Eighty-seven eyes of anger glowed in the atmosphere. What stood in front of them one would fear to describe. His fur was long, grey as the night, with rows of teeth that seemed never ending. It had stripes of the tiger, nose of the wolf. One could already see that this was the tiger wolf, however, he was different—stronger, wiser, angrier, older, more determined. Continue reading “Return of the Tigerwolf: Hybrids Glory”
This woman. This woman of beauty, yet, strength. Who was she? And how did I find myself to be the protector of such godliness’. Why would of woman of this stature ever be interested in a man like me? A man with not a lot of money, nor car even. All that I have is my dreams and my goals—but, is it enough? Was it enough, for her? Continue reading “Eleven Minute Haze: End to Beginnings”
The room was cold, dark, smelly. The woman stayed hidden for that she knew she was being watched. Tear drops of H20 dripped into the cold snow as they instantaneously became frozen by the touch. Her dress was slightly ripped as were the pants she’d worn under them. Her lips were dry, yet, were remarkably still sensational to the average man. Her breath was heavy, subtle, hot—as nothing, but mist surrounded her face.
She looked for openings, but none of which she could find. Heavy footsteps announced their presence as they slowly tip toed around the corner that she hidden. What became revealed was a creature non-like any witnessed in the real-life, although, who was to say that this was not the real-life either. Continue reading “Half an Hour Haze”
Who was she? That dream… it felt way to real. It was weird… I felt like I knew her, like I’ve seen her before, but this was different—I’ve never met such a woman in person or at least that’s what I thought. How can I dream or see someone I’ve never met before? Was is it that I saw her some point in my life or was it that I could see deeply into the future, the present. Continue reading “One Hour Haze”
Many people doubted me, silently hated me- wanting me to fail at every one of my goals in life. But when I looked back and saw that little boy I once was, I see today that it was his strength, his attitude to never care about what others thought— is what pushed me through all the pain, the lies, portrayals. Continue reading “A Warriors Way 27-0”
Akiiki was always known to be a happy spirited genie. Always full of love and devotion to the people that accepted him—it was no surprise that he was not talked about in the Arabic tales—for that he was not a genie of evil, but of good. Akiiki owned one of the most beautiful genie lamps of all. It had diamonds and gold all around it, looking as if someone had bedazzled it—of course, without the cheap materials. The lamp was known to be one of the most powerful lamps of all genies, although, came with a price—more than what one would ask for. Continue reading “A Genies Way”
Tigera and Wolfe were known to be an unusual pair. With one being a tiger and the other a wolf, most of the animal kingdom considered their relationship to be a sin or abomination. No one had ever dared to be with another outside of their animal race. Some even had the ignorance to believe that the two would have nothing in common—let alone understand one another’s heritage. However, Tigera and Wolfe did not see it that way. The two became so fed up with the ignorant and rude rants that the other animals made, they went in search for a place that they knew or felt they could be at peace—a place they could start a family. Continue reading “The Tiger Wolf”
“What’s happening? I thought we had him. His skills seem like they’ve tripled since the last round we had.”
“It appears the boy, like you girl, has become one with the alter ego.”
“Yeah, but I thought he already achieved that last round.”
“No, not at all girl. That round you saw before was not being one with the alter ego—that was simply just pure confidence, in which you still lack. The boy now has the power of confidence and his alter ego at side—you will surely lose if you do not wake up.” Continue reading “Dancers Alter Ego: Round 2”
Since I was a child music had always moved me—always did something to my soul. Whenever I felt it rumble through the ground—my hips would move, my head would sway and even my heart would begin to beat like djembe drums in the night. Today is now the chance I get to finally express this feeling—this passion to the world. Hopefully everyone will feel the same way as I when they see my interpretation of how music should feel. My heart; however, feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest. Looks like the event is starting—here goes nothing.
My blade, how did you get so dull? I need you to be sharp—however, I forgot the materials I need for you to be so. Was it happiness? Or was it just flame and oils? I’m obviously doing something wrong, for that you do not speak to me anymore, you won’t even answer to your name anymore.
Oathkeepr can you hear me? Please speak to me, do you even remember who I am? Don’t you remember the last battle we had? How our opponent was so full of fear and doubt within oneself. Don’t you remember when we clashed with his blade? Do you remember the fear his blade had? I certainly do— the fear it had was not that of a man, but a frightened boar.
You should be ready for this next fight, just as we were with the sword that feared you so. Why are you so afraid my blade, why are you afraid Oathkeeper?
You know we’ve always been victorious in our battles—yet, you still fear the thought of losing. Although, maybe it’s your fear that’s kept us alive for so many years—maybe, just maybe, I should learn to listen to you more. Will you ever speak to me again? Will you appear in front of me once again?
“Enough! I hear you girl!” said the Oathkeeper.
“Girl? But I am a woman,” the she said.
“Enough I said! I cannot and will not fight for you anymore. You have lost your way.” The Oathkeeper said. The woman however was confused, she’d though the chemistry they had was always aligned, but she soon realized that maybe she was wrong.
“What? And what way have I lost?” she said.
“You have lost yourself.” The Oath-keeper said.
“Myself? But I’ve done everything right, I have won all of my battles.” She said. “I have never kneeled to a man’s feet, but have made many kneel before mine.”
“Indeed, indeed you have, but look what anger you had in those fights—such evil in your eyes I saw. This is not the way, this is not the way I taught you.” The Oath-keeper said.
“I don’t understand, how shall I use you then? I mean… what other way is there?” She asked. “You never said anything to me in those battles. How the hell was I supposed to know?”
“That is something you’ll have to teach yourself. I have no time to teach children.” The Oath-keeper said.
The woman trained for years, furious of the neglect her blade had given her. She trained patiently for her next battle, but still couldn’t call upon her eternal blade. Over time the woman now walked with a limp, with grey hair that hung past her hips. The sword being as stubborn as it was—still had not responded to the woman and too became old as it rusted.
“My blade I have trained for years now and still no answer to my call. Why do you still rebel against me?” the woman said. “Why do you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you girl, you just aren’t ready. You were never tough enough to handle me. Why your father trusted me with you, I still wonder to this day—such a fool he was at times.” Said the Oath-keeper. “Look at you, disgusting! You reek of sake and manure. From the smell of you, your opponent might just forfeit in revulsion.”
“Enough! Just shut Up! It’s been years now and you still give me so much disrespect. Fine! I get it, I will do this alone, I will fight my opponent without you—I will fight my own battles from now on.” The woman said.
“You’ve gone mad… Do you seriously believe you can fight another samurai without blade in hand? That’s like eating udon without the chopsticks.”
“Yes mad… However, I’ve never felt so alive! Look, there he is now. Watch in learn from me now—I will show to all, even you, I am still queen.”
“No! We should turn back around and train more—I told you, you’re not ready.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Besides, anymore training I’ll barely be able to stand up.” The woman said. “Here goes nothing…”
The woman then charged her opponent at full force—however, her opponent looked confused, he saw nothing but a raised fist and the absence of blade within it.
“Has she gone mad… Why is she without blade? Does she not know this is a fight to the death?” the man pondered.
“I have no idea, but today is the day we are victorious. Today is the day we dethrone the so-called Queen of Samurai!” his blade said.
Without hesitation, the fight began. Blood was immediately drawn as the woman with fist charged.
“You should stop why you’re at it silly girl, your days of running the world of samurai are through.” The man said.
“No, this will not be the last, I will be victorious.” The woman said.
“Hmm… You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really going to try to kill me with just bare fist?” the man said.
“I will!” the woman said charging the man once more.
“Bold, but stupid.” The man said as he prepared himself.
As the two clashed everything at that moment seemed to have frozen in time, all she could taste was her own blood—she at least though it was her blood.
“Is this… Is this the end?” The woman spoke.Her opponent—however, was now down to his knees, telling her to finish him off. It would come to find out that it wasn’t her blood at all she tasted, but her opponents.
Her blade then finally spoke to her without question. “You have finally learned girl. It was never you that needed I, but I that needed you.” The Oath-keeper said.
“I… I don’t understand. Why after all these years you now appear.” The woman asked. “Why now?”
“Because, you now have been humbled. You always called to me to aid you in your battles but you needed to learn how to survive—to win yourself, for that I will not always be around or be with you.” The Oath-keeper said. “You have shown me courage just as you did when we first met. You are ready now, my queen of samurai. ”
“Yes… I understand now… However, it would appear I took too long to learn my lesson…” the woman said.
“I know my queen… I know… But let us give one more last blow before we meet the afterlife, for old times’ sake.”
“Agreed.” The woman said. As they faded, as they took their last blow, it was not the blade that would become eternal that day, but Asuka, Queen of the Samurai.
I wasn’t always this way. There was a time when I was a good person, filled with no darkness, but only light. I had many friends and even a woman at the time that I thought was the love of my life; however, they all let me down, they all portrayed me. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to feel? I did what I what I had too, vanishing was the only way as did they. The sad part is, with all the pain I’ve suffered; I can’t even write, draw or dance anymore. So much has happened to me and now I suffer more for the loss of the things I loved to do. How could I have let myself get in this situation? How could I become so lost? Now all I have is the darkness that surrounds me, but at least this way I won’t be hurt anymore. Being dark cant be bad right? I don’t know… But why me? Why does someone of such good get hurt by so many people? Maybe I’m just weaker than I believe myself to be strong, maybe I was never strong. Continue reading “Light Within Darkness”
Standing in this crowd I tremble with fear. I mean… What am I doing here? They probably already think I’m no good. My opponent looks intense; however, I can tell deep down he’s just as afraid as me. I feel I should take advantage of this situation and destroy this guy, but feel that it’s already too late. What can I do to get out of this situation? I’m not ready. Everything feels like an earthquake; the floor is shaking and people are screaming at the top of their lungs. Are they cheering for my opponent? Has he already begun and if so, where did he find the courage to press forward? I guess it doesn’t matter now, It’s all over. The only thing that can save me now is the right song, a good one. And… dammit! Never-mind, the DJ would play that song. This is the worst song that’s came out this summer. Wow, now I really must say that there some favoritism here. I should have been better prepared I should have been ready. Continue reading “Dancers Alter Ego: Round 1”