Below is a collection of my writing experiments. The list is short as of now, but it will grow. Check out my stuff and tell me what you think.

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A Broken Promise
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A (very) short story I did on impulse. Let me know what you think.

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Red Crunch
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I think I'll continue this story for the NaNoWriMo Contest. I like it.

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Sexy Heels
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This one speaks for itself. It's short, too, so give it a read.

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Project Cosmic Utopia
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This is an intro for a possible novel for the NaNoWriMo contest. I think I have some good ideas here.

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Jeriko
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Did this one for the Punkoween writing contest. I think I did pretty good for the first time touching this genre. Check out the contest here.

Zed opened eyes and instantly regretted it. At first he thought he was dreaming, but now he was certain that what he was about experience was real. He was going to die, and in a very unpleasant way.

He took a moment to observe that around him. It was dark and dank, and all he could see was a small light at the end of the hall: a single, naked bulb hanging by a string. He stood and groaned in discomfort as his aching muscles cried out in pain. How long had he been out? He rolled his neck and shook his head.

"Hello, Zed," came a voice from a hidden loudspeaker above him. The noise echoed off the metal walls of the large hall he stood in. He looked down and noticed the place was flooded a few inches. Perhaps that made Jeriko more comfortable. "As you know, you're in the Lair, an alternative punishment to the electric chair. You're about to face the mutant. At the end of the hall before you is a door. When you pass through it, there is no going back until you--or it--dies. Do make sure you're prepared."

The voice cut out. Zed began cautiously walking towards the door, not knowing what he'd find, when he heard a soft splashing behind him. He did a quick about-face to see a girl in the corner, still unconscious, but coming to. She coughed.

"What?" Zed whispered to himself. He began wearily walking in her direction. He crouched by the woman. He could see she was underfed, yet still very beautiful. She couldn't be over twenty years old. He reached for her shoulder. As his fingers made contact, the girl jumped up and began screaming in terror. Zed recoiled with a grunt, almost falling, but kept his balance and stood. He began shushing the girl, grabbing her by the shoulders to calm her down.

Eventually the woman's voice fell. She was crying and shaking, and she crouched back into the dark, shallow waters. "Where am I?" she whimpered.

"You're in the Lair," he replied softly.

"What?" the girl asked in shock. She was breathing heavily and seemed almost delirious.

"You're in the Lair," Zed repeated. "How did you get here? Do you remember?"

"No," the girl whispered. "Why am I here? What's going on?"

"Are you an inmate?" Zed asked.

"No!" the girl shouted. She was getting angry. "What the hell is happening?"

Zed silenced her again and tried to get her to relax. "Listen," he said slowly. "We need to get out of here. But first we have to kill Jeriko."

"What? Jeriko? What's that?"

"I'm a prisoner. I was sentenced to death, but instead of taking the electric chair, they let me try my luck here. If I can kill the mutant waiting for me in the next room, I get to go free."

"You mean we have to battle some...thing to get out of here alive?" the girl asked rhetorically. "What's going on? Why am I here? What did I do?" She was nearly shouting yet again.

Zed quieted her once more. "I don't know. But we gotta get moving." Zed stood and held out his hand. The girl hesitated, then took it. Zed helped her to feet. The two began slowly walking towards the end of the hallway.

The loudspeakers squealed. Zed and the girl froze where they stood and looked up, seeking out the source of the noise. The same voice as before was heard. "I see you found the woman. We neglected to inform you that if she doesn't survive and you somehow do, the test is invalid, and you will still be terminated." The voice went silent again.

"Why don't you tell me what the hell I'm doing here?" the girl shouted at the walls. The two stood in silence, but only the sound of dripping came in reply. They continued forward.

"So what's you name, sweetheart?" Zed asked in only a respectable way. He was at least twice the girl's age anyway.

"I don't remember," the girl replied. She sniffed. "I don't remember who I am at all."

"Well, I'm Zed."

"I'm scared."

Zed turned his head to face her as he kept walking forward through the murky waters. It was getting deeper, but the light was getting closer. "I know," he said. "I am, too."

They trudged forward without talking for a bit before the woman spoke again. "What are you in for?"

Zed shrugged. "Double homicide," he said nonchalantly. "Caught my wife in bed with my boss."

The girl didn't know how to respond, so she only nodded. "I wish I knew why I was in the place," she said, looking around at the menacing, metal walls.

"Doesn't matter," Zed said. "We're gonna kill this thing and get outta here. Don't you worry."

After what seemed like hours they reached the door. The stood under the eerie bulb for a second, delaying the inevitability of entering the wooden door before them to face the beast. As Zed reached for the knob, the same mysterious voice came over the intercom yet again. "I'll have you know that we didn't leave you completely defenseless. Beyond the door you'll find a M16 with clips to spare, though I doubt it will save you. I warn you: Jeriko has never been beaten. It is a creature that has gone insane through outrageous government experiments that have destroyed its mind. It has the strength of ten men, the trailing capabilities of the highest breed of dog, and teeth strong enough to bite through a steel plate. I wish you luck; you're going to need it." The intercom went to static and then cut out.

Zed looked over his shoulder, his hand still resting on the doorknob. "I know something Jeriko doesn't," he said with a sinister smile.

"What's that?" the girl asked, fear apparent in her eyes.

Zed's eyes began to glow to a bright red as his pupils vanished. "I'm a mutant, too." The girl gasped as Zed pushed open the door and ran inside. Sure enough, on the floor before them was an M16 with three clips. Zed picked up the automatic weapon and looked down the sights. He then observed the room they now found themselves in.

The place was huge. It had a cavernous feel to it. The floor was flooded at least a foot. The corners of the enormous room vanished into darkness as the walls climbed to unknown heights. Only a few naked bulbs here and there lit the path. In front of the two characters was a metal wall only high enough to prevent them from seeing over or climbing it. Zed led the way and began walking to the left along the wall. Eventually they reached the end and moved forward through an opening a few feet to face yet another wall. The two traveled right this time, very slowly and carefully, looking for another hole to pass through.

"This ain't too hard," said Zed. He scratched his stubbly, white chin and gripped his rifle again. His eyes were still glowing bright red. "We can get through a maze no problem. And the idiots running this show don't know I'm just as strong as this Jeriko, only a lot smarter. Plus we got a gun, so I think we got a pretty good chance at winning."

The girl remained quiet. The terror on her face was obvious. Every time she heard a drip, she jumped and turned, only to see darkness behind her.

They reached the second opening and passed through. Looking over the walls as best they could, Zed could estimate by the faint light in the distance that they still had awhile to go before they reached the door. But they weren't allowed to leave until Jeriko was dead, so neither of them was celebrating the fact they hadn't encountered him yet.

And then they heard it: a deep growl that echoed far above them. It made both Zed and the girl freeze for a second. The woman whimpered and brought her arms close to her chest with her hands clutched together beneath her chin. She searched the darkness of the ceiling and saw nothing.

Zed made sure the M16's safety was off. "Can't stop now," he said. He gently grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her along in a protective manner, gripping the rifle in his free hand. They passed through the third wall opening and began following the next obstacle, looking for an exit in order to move on.

Another growl was heard, this one closer. Then the sound gnashing teeth sounded quite loudly. For a second, all went silent. All that could be heard was dripping water. And then Jeriko emerged.

"Shit." Zed jumped back inhumanly far, pulling the girl--who was screaming at the top of her lungs--with him. They landed with a splash. The woman went rolling in the dirty water as Zed opened fire on the beast that was jumping from wall to wall in front of him.

What a disgusting creature it was. It only partially resembled the human being it used to be; it was an atrocity now. Its enormous muscles bulged and twitched under its dark-gray skin as it jumped and swung wildly in the air. Its eyes were nothing but black pupils enlarged to outrageous sizes due to the constant darkness it lived in. Parts of the monster's body looked like bloody, tumorous chunks of meat that only hindered the creature's movements, which was, in fact, what they were: side-effects of the disgusting genetic mutation the government had put it through in the name of science, condemning it to kill prisoners in a dungeon, never to know a normal life again.

That didn't stop Zed from pumping it full of lead, however. He nearly emptied his clip into Jeriko's chest--to no avail, might I add--before the beast reached him. It took a mighty swing with its powerful arm, screaming the whole time. Zed ducked at the last second and rolled away, reloading as he did so. Bullets didn't seem to phase the monster at all, however, so his current method seemed useless.

Zed had to keep himself and the girl alive, and he had to dispose of Jeriko. And his provided weapon wasn't working. Fortunately for him, Zed had a few weapons that no one except he himself knew of. Jeriko swung his arm one more time as Zed continued to blast a stream of rounds into his meaty flesh, but this time he didn't duck. Instead, he used the butt of his gun to bash the arm as it passed him, causing the creature to fall off balanced for a moment. With its back exposed, Zed sprinted up his spine, shooting down into the mutant as he ran up him. As he passed the creature's head, he jumped and fired the last three rounds of his magazine into its spongy skull. The beast staggered and cried out in pain as Zed hit the ground, rolled once, and loaded his last clip. Jeriko was mad now.

It rushed at Zed like an angry drunk. Zed saw it coming and leapt effortlessly ten feet into the air. He performed a stylish flip while airborne and landed gracefully behind the confused creature. Taking this golden opportunity, Zed emptied his remaining rounds into its naked backside, then completed his attack by literally throwing his now useless M16 at it. Zed put up his fists into a defensive position and readied himself for Jeriko's incoming rage.

And his rage did come. The beast ran blindly at him, swinging like a madman. Zed dodged the blows effortlessly. He aimed for the creature's belly and swung a hefty punch, but the beast wasn't even phased. He had to think of something new, and quick.

Zed did some impressive wall runs to give himself some space. What could he do? Bullets had barely stunned the monster, and now all he had was his raw strength. And then he noticed the bullet holes in Jeriko's skull that he had left only moments before. Of course.

Jeriko rushed once more for Zed, but this time he didn't dodge it. Jeriko's monstrous mouth was snapping like rabid dog's, but Zed wasn't about to get bitten. Instead, as the beast pinned his body to the wall, feet above the floor, Zed grabbed Jeriko's skull with both of his hands to hold its razor-sharp teeth back a safe distance. He inched his hands along the beast's head until he found what he was looking for: a hole. Using all his strength to keep the muscular creature from ripping his face off, Zed put both of his thumbs into the wound and pulled both hands in opposite directions.

At first, the creature took no notice. Nothing was happening. Zed strained with all his might, but its skull was too thick. And then he heard a distinct crack ring out, along with a horrible cry from the beast; it was working. Zed continued to pull, and the cracks got louder, but the beast got stronger. Zed began screaming in agony as its grip tightened and the skull began to pull apart. Zed's eyes became glowing orbs of crimson. And then, with a final tug, he literally ripped Jeriko's head in half down the middle, causing the most sickening noise of tearing flesh and shattering bone to echo throughout the entire room. The beast crumpled to the floor, as did Zed, as its grip slowly weakened around him. Zed sat in a pool of Jeriko's blood as it pumped out of his head--or what was left of it. Zed eventually caught his breath, stood, and staggered over to the girl, who appeared unconscious in the reddening water.

He lifted her head and looked at her. "Wake up," he panted. "I did it."

The woman's eyes flickered. She squinted at him, dazed. "What?" she asked weakly.

Zed was still breathing heavy, but he managed a smile. "I killed Jeriko. We're free."

The woman sat up with much effort and glanced at the corpse of the creature. After a few seconds of observation, she concluded, "That isn't Jeriko."

Zed swallowed hard as he looked at the woman. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "If that isn't Jeriko, then who is?" he said with a nervous laugh.

The girl smiled slyly at him. Her arm shot out faster than Zed thought possible and clutched his throat. She stood, holding his neck, and casually lifted his body above hers. Zed stared at her with disbelieving eyes as he violently choked in the woman's grasp.

"I remember who I am now," the girl said in a voice that grew deeper as she spoke. "I'm Jeriko."

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Ashton Rymkus twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he glanced across the cabin at the other passengers of the huge transport helicopter they had now been traveling in for well over an hour. None of them appeared happy. They were all clutching the last remnants of their worldly possessions; some carried infant children, others clutched tightly to a family heirloom, and a few even held a dead relative's ashes in a jar. What they held in their arms and the clothes on their backs were the last of their material goods, and the passengers held onto these items as if they believed they would vanish before them should they loosen their grasp.

Ashton had nothing. He was crawling through a dumpster when they found him, "they" being the Clippers, the soldiers sent to protect mankind until Project Cosmic Utopia was complete. Now, after years--decades even--of word about the idea, it was finally complete, and human beings were essentially going to thrive once more.

World War Four was horrible, more horrible than anyone could have predicted. It put the three previous World Wars to shame. It made the death toll of every other historical conflict seem like child's play. And the humans paid the price. The world was left desolate, nothing but a wasteland of crumbled remains. Only a few million survived, and they didn't consider themselves the lucky ones. They lived off dirt and soot for years, residing in holes left by the bombs that carpeted the entire Earth. But one man promised them hope, a new future. He guaranteed them a new life among the clouds, in a city free from corruption and crime. This man was Phillip Skol, the Commandant of Cosmic Utopia.

Skol began his work during World War Four, knowing the outcome would be globally disastrous. He began enormous fund-raising campaigns and gained huge support from political figureheads that were outright against the war. In time, humankind received the most shocking news in history: Phillip Skol was constructing a city in the clouds.

No one believed it, of course, but the ads kept coming. When EMPs destroyed international television broadcast during the thirteenth year of the horrendous war, Skol used other methods to keep the idea fresh in everyone's minds. And then, in 2563, twenty-five years after the first battle had initially broken out right in the United States, the war ended abruptly; there was no one left to kill. Human life was hanging by a thread. And just when the remaining people of Earth were losing hope, Skol flooded their heads once more with his idea of a utopia, a city of wealth and opportunity. But it wasn't completed yet; humankind would have to hold on just a bit longer.

So they did. That was fifteen years ago, and now here was the last group of survivors on their way to the safe haven of Cosmic Utopia, the City of Dreams. Ashton could hardly believe it. If the Clippers hadn't found him, he'd still be digging through the garbage of Earth, looking for the slightest morsel of food, while the last humans of his planet descended into the sky to a city where they would thrive and live for many more generations. What a terrifying thought.

And despite the fact that everyone on board this enormous transport chopper was heading to safety, food, and essentially life, every one of them looked scared out of their wits. They were lonely, stinking, putrid cowards, all of them shaking in their rags. Only Ashton seemed calmed as he continued to lazily twiddle his thumbs in no particular rhythm as he hummed to himself.

An automated voice--a woman's--came over the cabin's loudspeaker system: The estimated time of arrival into Cosmic Utopia, the City of Dreams, is t-minus twenty minutes and thirty-six seconds. The message relieved no one. As a matter of fact, it seemed to make the passengers more tense. Perhaps they were afraid of what they'd find at this city in the sky.

The city wasn't actually built on clouds, obviously. But the real explanation for how Skol managed to construct a floating city is no more satisfying--or any less impressive--to the common layman than saying the place was literally built upon a mass of frozen ice crystals floating in the atmosphere of Earth. The idea of a suspended utopia scared people, no matter how many times the Commandant guaranteed safety for centuries. It was an obscure idea, to say the least.

Ashton leaned forward and looked to his left, past some of the passengers towards the front of the helicopter. He could see just a fragment of sky out of the front windshield, but no city. The helicopter descended just slightly, and then he saw it. He gasped in amazement, sparking the curiosity of some of the other civilians on board. They leaned into each other, even shoved and pushed, to get a glimpse at what had caused Ashton's mouth to drop, as if they didn't know. Those who witnessed the glorious sight actually smiled and laughed in amazement as they let others see the majesty that was Cosmic Utopia.

Another voice came over the loudspeakers, this one a live voice of one of the two pilots steering their chopper. "I'm gonna ask everyone to calm down," he said in an automated droll. "Please remain seated until we reach the city."

Only a few complied. Most of the passengers stayed crouched by the gate that separated them from the pilots that let gaze be cast upon the breathless sight. As the chopper neared its destination, more and more transport copters came into view, numbering in the hundreds, each one carrying hundreds of survivors. The last of humankind was on its way to paradise.

Ashton sat back in his chair, almost in shock. He had never seen anything like it. A floating city--an enormous one at that--was a pretty incredible sight. The city looked as if it really was built on clouds, as the clouds masked the floating hypo-platforms that suspended Cosmic Utopia in the sky. Skol had done a great job; that was for sure.

It felt like forever before the pilot spoke again. "We're now landing in the city. Please wait until the helicopter has landed before standing. Exit the craft in an orderly fashion."

Every civilian rushed to the massive cabin door, waiting impatiently for it to be opened from the outside. Ashton noted how strange it was that the passengers went from fearing the unknown to welcoming it with anticipating arms just by catching a glimpse at what they were headed for. Human nature never ceased to surprise him.

The door opened, and the civilians nearly fell out into the open air, which was awfully thin this high in the atmosphere. Ashton was the last to exit the helicopter, or any helicopter for that matter, meaning he was the last original survivor of Earth to ever set foot in Cosmic Utopia, which was almost as significant a fact as the first human to set foot there. As he walked, he noticed pools of mist around his legs; he really was among a cloud. He stared for a moment at the gray, titanium floor, blanketed with vapor, then followed the group of survivors to the city gates.

There were thousands of people outside the massive city, waiting to get in to start their new lives. Armed Clippers and Pluggers walked up and down the lines of people, keeping things in order. Ashton noticed a sign in bright neon by the helipads that read "Outer Reach." He assumed it was the name for where he now stood, the place outside of the city. Facing the gates he turned around to see more empty transport choppers on helipads, but whatever was beyond them vanished into the mist. Ashton wondered if one were to walk in that direction if he would eventually fall off the hypo-platforms that held the city up to a rather surprising death. The idea nearly make him shudder.

Ashton turned his view toward the gates once more. Above the twenty-foot barrier was an enormous plasma TV, which suddenly came to life as he glanced at it. On it was a giant image of none other than Phillip Skol himself. It was a recording that had probably played every day since Cosmic Utopia had officially opened over a year ago, but it was Skol nonetheless.

"Good day, citizens of Earth," his prerecorded speech began. "I'd like to welcome you to your new home. Since the tragedies of World War Four, I've realized we have no one to blame but ourselves. The outcome of the conflict isn't what matters, but rather what we've learned from it. Today is a new day for all of us, because today we start life free from crime, corruption, and greed and begin our destinies equal."

Ashton felt uneasy. Everyone else, however, was staring up at the screen with broad smiles on their faces. He turned back towards the broadcast.

"Today marks the beginning of a new age, and I'd like you all to be a part of it." Suddenly the gates began to rumble, and then they silently slid open. Every civilian in their stinking rags and putrid waste rushed forward towards the city into what they believe to be their new paradise. "Welcome to Cosmic Utopia," said the Commandant as the screen flickered off.

Ashton stayed near the back of the crowd but had to jog just to avoid being trampled. As he passed the gates, he realized that maybe he really was entering into paradise, a land of opportunity, a City of Dreams.

Or maybe that's exactly what they wanted him to think.

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"Chucky? You in here?" Sam kept her pistol pointed in front of her, parallel with the littered floor. The beam of her flashlight cast dusty shadows over the rubble of the once-habitable, two bedroom apartment. Jack trotted into the room from behind her and began sniffing random piles of concrete and plywood. He snorted quietly as he inhaled something he didn't particularly want to inhale.

She took a step forward. Her combat boots made a dull thump as they came into contact with the floorboards, which creaked with her weight. Without moving her head, she glanced down as she walked, avoiding piles of debris. She panned her flashlight around but saw nothing.

The TV was on, a small, portable model set on a card table. A standard test pattern illuminated the screen and cast the only light save her flashlight into the dirty room. Using the television's light, she turned her head and faced where it shown, which was towards the kitchen. It was a complete disaster; nothing remained in the cabinets or on the shelves. Filth and rubble covered the entire floor. The windows were boarded shut, and the ceiling had collapsed in the corner, making a small ramp of debris that led up into the floor above.

"Chucky?" she called again.

"Thank God!" she heard him suddenly call with a sigh of relief. From one of the small bedrooms emerged Charles, covered in soot and ash and holding a double-barreled shotgun. "I thought you were one of the radios."

Sam's arms collapsed to her side as she smiled. "You're alright," she said in confirmation. "You had me worried, big guy." She held out her gloved hand and Chucky met it in an informal clasp. He pulled her close and gave her a friendly noogie with a laugh as she tried to escape from his playful chokehold.

Chucky released her. "I can't believe it," he said, still smiling broadly. He quickly wiped the rim of his mouth with his free hand and scratched his dark brown soul patch. "You made it!"

Sam holstered her pistol and flashlight and looked around the room. "Yeah," she said, as if her accomplishment meant nothing. She watched for a moment as Jack continued sniffing around the apartment. She turned and headed into the kitchen. "How've you been holding up?"

Chucky shrugged, despite the fact Sam's back was turned. "Still alive," he said. "Looted the local Wal-Mart. Got the last piece there." He broke his shotgun and took out the live shells. He placed them both in the breast pocket of the thick veteran's coat he wore.

Sam opened the fridge. It was off, of course, but inside were non-perishable food items, saved from contaminates only by airtight security of the refrigerator. She pulled out a bag of Ramen noodles and savagely ripped it open. She cast her head back and poured the contents into her mouth. She couldn't remember the last time she had eaten.

"Sure, you can have some food. Thanks for asking," Chucky sarcastically remarked.

Sam didn't turn to look but replied, "Have I ever told you how much I love you, Chuck?"

"Not recently."

"Sorry." Jack approached Sam slowly and sat by her feet, patiently awaiting his share. Sam opened a can of Spaghettios via the pull-back tab and crouched to place the can on the floor. The golden retriever--now stained brown with dirt and other unmentionables--stared into Sam's eyes as she continued chewing for a second. She smiled slowly, then said, "Go ahead, boy." Jack attacked the can as she scratched his head and stood. "How long did I take?"

Chucky ran his hand through his long hair. "Almost a week," he said with an expulsion of air.

Sam stopped mid-chew. She put her hand over her brow. "We gotta get going," she said after a few moments of silence. She finished off the bag of Ramen and tossed the remains onto the ground. She quickly opened another can of soup and rolled it across the ground towards Jack, who was just finished his first meal. "You got a backpack or a hand bag or something?"

Chucky held up a finger and dodged back into the bedroom. He emerged in seconds, carrying a gray messenger bag. He tossed the empty sack to Sam, who caught and began filling it with food and water bottles. He pulled from under a random pile of garbage some extra cases of shotgun shells and threw those to her as well.

"How many have you had to kill?" Sam asked as she sipped from a lukewarm bottle of water.

Chucky held up his hand in the shape of a zero. "You were gonna be my first," he said. "But lucky for you, I didn't pull the trigger."

Sam nodded and took another drink.

"What about you?"

Sam shrugged. "Lost count."

"Shit..."

Sam waved her free hand at him like she was telling him not to worry about it. "It's not so bad. They're hardly human anymore."

"They were at some point."

Sam discarded her plastic bottle and called Jack to her side. She unholstered her MK23 SOCOM and checked her ammo. She felt on her belt for her clips and one reserve grenade (which she hoped she never had to use), then pulled back the slide her handgun, arming a round into the pistol's chamber. "You ready, buddy?"

Chucky had just finished loading his 12 gauge. Sam wondered why he had unloaded it in the first place. He snapped his gun back together and stood in a defensive pose. "Ready as I'll get." He walked slowly out the door of his apartment, Sam on his heels as she slung the bag over her shoulder and Jack close behind.

It was 3:00 PM, but one would believe it to be 3:00 AM from the lack of light outside. A thick haze obscured the view of the three travelers no matter where they walked; they hadn't seen the sun in a week.

Everything--absolutely everything--was in ruins. Every building crumbled, every window shattered, every car demolished. It had all happened so fast. Sam never thought in her life she would be a part of the apocalypse, and she definitely never believed World War III would carry any role in it. Now that she thought about it, it was pretty obvious.

They passed bodies of every shape, size, and color as they crossed the streets. Men, women, and children littered the ground like discarded waste left for the street cleaners. Most were charred beyond recognition, but others were torn in half by the force of nuclear explosions casting inanimate objects at breakneck speeds into them. It was nauseating for Chucky, but Sam was getting used to a sight like this, and that disgusted her just as much.

Jack stayed ahead for the most part. He'd run for a bit, stop to sniff a body or a car or a pile of rubble, then run back. Sam remembered a few days ago when he found a live person--not a radio, but a normal human being. Sam had approached him cautiously and nearly vomited when she saw the man. He was pinned under a tipped over moving van. His face and torso were horribly burned; she could see the muscle and even the bone where his flesh was supposed to be. And he was conscious. Barely, but still aware of his surroundings and pain. All he could do was moan.

Sam had watched him for a bit, pacing back and forth and nearly hyperventilating; she had no idea what to do. After a fit of silently arguing with herself, she pointed her pistol at his skull, turned her head, and fired. She heard his body--what was left of it--fall to the ground and walked away in tears. The image of him still haunted her, and probably would for the rest of her life, however long that ended up being in this now desolate wasteland.

They continued forward. "There it is," Chucky said after nearly thirty minutes of walking. Sam glanced up and saw Wal-Mart, shattered and ripped apart on the exterior, but still standing. "How 'bout we grab some supplies before we head to refuge?"

Sam nodded. "Sounds good to me." They made a quick jog to the entrance and carefully walked into the crumbling store. Sam flicked on her flashlight as she stepped over the broken glass of the front doors and made her way inside.

The store was almost completely cleaned out. All the frozen foods had long since thawed and rotted, producing an awful stench. Invaluable nonperishable foodstuffs were nowhere to be seen, but the two did find, with Jack's help, the supply room in the back that still had some edibles hidden away. After finding another messenger bag, this one an olive green, they stuffed it with what they could and headed back towards the doors they had entered through, stepping around knocked over racks, shelves, and the occasional body.

"Where to now?" Chucky asked. They once again stepped over the broken doorway and stood in the deserted parking lot.

"We need to round up some known survivors before we head to camp," she answered. "How about your parents? Let's get them."

Chucky's face went grave for a moment. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he stared towards the pavement. "My parents are dead," he eventually mumbled. "Let's find yours."

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The man stared deeply into her blue eyes. They seemed to pierce into his heart, into his soul. He moved a strand of her golden hair from her face and adjusted her head in his arms.

"Do you love me?" she asked weakly.

"Of course I do," the man replied.

"Would you die for me?"

"You know I would."

"Would you kill for me?"

"I already have."

"Would you grant me any wish?"

"I would do anything for you, my love."

The woman blinked slowly. Her skin was already paling. Her eyes were darkening. "Then kill me."

He had known she would ask that. And yet, for some reason, he hesitated. Why? The curse. Her love would fade. Only hatred and darkness would remain. What's the value of a life if only hate consumes it?

And yet he hesitated.

"Promise me something."

"What, my love?"

"Live," she said. "Let my death not be the end for you as well. Find love again. For me."

The man said nothing.

"Promise me."

He nodded. "I promise." He drew his blade. Already her blue eyes were blackened. Her skin was almost white. She closed her eyes and nodded in affirmation.

And yet he hesitated. He didn't know why; he was only delaying the inevitable. He exhaled slowly. A single tear rolled down his dirty cheek. It fell and splashed upon the woman's face. He wiped it away and stared into her eyes. He placed her head gently upon the cold--too cold--floor. He held his breath and then plunged his sword into her stomach. A single breath escaped her lips. "Remember," she said with a sound that was more air than voice. "Your promise."

"I will," the man said.

The woman's eyes fluttered and then closed.

"And as you lay bleeding," the man continued as he leaned down the kiss the woman one final time, "know that now our love can never die."

The man never loved again.

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I wish I had this cat.

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I got banned for saying "Do it, faggot" to Poozy. What a douche, amirite?

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Here's a list of almost every game I've ever beaten in alphabetical order by system. I'm sure I'm forgetting a couple, but it's still a lot.

Total games beaten: Roughly 69

NES
- Kirby's Adventure
- Super Mario Bros.
- Super Mario Bros. 3

SNES
- Donkey Kong Country
- DKC 2
- DKC 3

PS1
- Tony Hawk's Pro Skater
- Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2
- 007: Tomorrow Never Dies
- 007: Die Another Day

N64
- 007: Goldeneye
- The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
- 007: The World Is Not Enough

Gameboy
- Hey Arnold!
- Pokemon Leaf Green

PS2
- 007: Agent Under Fire
- 007: Nightfire
- 24 The Game
- Burnout: Revenge
- God of War
- Guitar Hero Rocks the 80s
- Guitar Hero 2
- Jak and Daxter: The Precursor Legacy
- Jak II
- Jak 3
- Mercenaries
- Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time
- Ratchet and Clank
- Ratchet and Clank: Going Commando
- Ratchet and Clank : Up Your Arsenal
- Ratchet: Deadlocked
- Star Wars Battlefront II
- Timesplitters 2
- Timesplitters: Future Perfect
- THAW
- Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 3
- Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 4
- THUG
- THUG 2

PSP
- Loco Roco
- Metal Slug
- Metal Slug 2
- Metal Slug X
- Metal Slug 3
- Metal Slug 4
- Metal Slug 5
- Metal Slug 6
- Ratchet and Clank: Size Matters
- Star Wars Battlefront II

Xbox 360
- Assassin's Creed
- Battlefield: Bad Company
- Call of Duty 4
- Castle Crashers
- Dead Rising
- Fable II
- Gears of War
- Gears of War 2
- GTA IV
- Guitar Hero III
- Half-Life 2
- Half-Life 2: Episode One
- Half-Life 2: Episode Two
- Halo 3
- The Incredible Hulk
- Just Cause
- Portal
- Rock Band
- skate.

It's been awhile, but I've finally made a couple new songs. They're not that great (it only took me a couple hours per song and I'm pretty much relearning FL Studios because it's been months since I've made a song), but they're something.

Check out The Beeps here.
Plasmoid is here.
And the best one, Squiggle Fish, is here.

Vote and leave a review if you can! I have more time on my hands now, so maybe more songs will be on the way...