Before you start reading this story, there is something I would like to let you know. This story has no heroes. It is a common (and mistaken) belief that the protagonist of a story must be its hero. That the people within a story always directly represent the author’s ideals. This is not the case …[continue reading]

Hux took a deep breath and inhaled the smoke of his cigarette. Ash and tar gathered in his lungs, relaxing him more than the nicotine ever could. He felt alone. It wasn’t a new feeling, but it was particularly strong tonight. The air and ground were damp from an afternoon rain, a gentle breeze spread …[continue reading]

“Hey.” The barkeeper spoke to Huxley. Neither of them knew the other’s name, but there was an unspoken bond between the two. An odd understanding. “I know you, I know you’re not a bad guy… but this?” He gestured at the man lying beaten and bloodied on the ground, and the woman who was trying …[continue reading]

Huxley pushed open Sweet Sin’s front door and made his way back out into the cold, wet city streets. Even though he’d paid his debts, he should still find somewhere else to get drunk for the night. He didn’t want to be around when the cops inevitably showed up.Was there anywhere else for Huxley to …[continue reading]

The Angel examined their sword one last time, then slowly looked up toward Huxley. “You seem afraid.” They stood up, placed the blood soaked cloth on the crate they’d been sitting on, and sheathed their sword. A gentle smile rested on their face. “Don’t worry, they’re just demons.” The angel nudged one of the demons’ …[continue reading]

“…Extra?” Huxley struggled to keep a smile and maintain a normal level of eye contact as he spoke. “You mean money?”“That is the most common choice, yes.” Micha took several steps away, giving Huxley back his much missed personal space. “Food, clothes, books… anything that could be of use to those in need is welcome.” …[continue reading]

Huxley heaved a sigh of relief as he reached the front door of his shitty little apartment. The longer he lived there, the further the rent prices tanked – which suited him just fine. Normally, he’d feel bad about it, or worry about getting kicked out… but the landlord was a prick and too cowardly …[continue reading]

Huxley took a deep breath and held it. He reached deep within himself, thinking about everything that dragged out his fury. About all the trash that was dragging the world down into a dumpster fire, and how he would never fit in anywhere.…he just wanted to smash all of it.Pain surged through his right hand, …[continue reading]