heaven roses

Sean King

Yuki Asahina

English

Dakota was a part time pilot but later became a full time bodyguard. today was a normally day, the sun was out and the sky was blue. though his normal day was about to change when he saw a abandoned lake house...

He thought it looked familiar, and realized it was the house where they filmed a famous horror movie. Dozens of photogenic actors had been murdered there (on film). He saw a decrepit “For Sale” sign on the lawn and had a fantastic idea.

He'd buy it, renovate, and turn it into a haunted house attraction! The screams would be real! He could even hire some celebrity actors for special appearances. Tourists would flock, drawn to the morbid history. "The House of Screams" would be his masterpiece.

Blood Flipper

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✿𝓢𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽✿ ✧⋆𝓹𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓶⋆✧ 

Josh Hansen

I stare out in to the city, knowing this could go terribly wrong. Getting ready to jump off the plane, I have no fear I was taught not to. The light turns red and the pilot gives me a thumbs up to go...

but somehow I freeze, stood on the aircraft's wing - I can't jump despite being convinced by my masters that I cannot physically be damaged or feel pain in any form. Is this a test? Why would they make this the first demonstration of my apparent powers? An intense heat begins to

radiate from the engine below, the air thickens with an unbearable pressure, & yet I remain frozen, my mind racing w/ questions I can’t answer. What are these powers they’ve given me? If I can’t feel pain, why does the heat threaten to overwhelm me? Is this all part of the test?

I laugh as my skin absorbs the heat, channeling it into my fingertips. With a snap, I send bolts of heat wherever I point. I destroy 2 walls and a door before I learn how to control this ability.

The entire room starts collapsing as I run from the crumbling building and into the street, zapping heat into the sky. I cackle and give into the glee. I run to the club and start subtlety zapping bad dancers so they just they’re overheating. Thus I became the dancing police.

fashion facism

Esseta O

Dawson 01

Suddenly, the tower of empty Oreo containers toppled to the ground.

"Dang it, I was so close to finishing my tower, maybe even making a new world record" I shake my head

"Awh, you poor thing, bless your sweet little heart. It'll be on your tombstone- 'Cause of death: Couldn't finish his game."

“Funny, isn't it? You spent all this time obsessed with victory, chasing that next level like it was everything. And now, what’s left? A screen with no more lives to lose, no more challenges to face. Just a quiet, empty room, and a game that never saw its end."

Years later I still find myself thinking about that sentence. An assertion, ultimately. At least that's what I pretend it to be, but in the quiet hours of the night it continues to defy submersion. My personal spectre, standing beside me in the darkness with it's permanent rictus

heaven roses
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