...open the light laden ark and you will find the ingenious treasures that were forged by the elements of creativity...
Destruction
The city began to crumble as fiery ash with simmering red flickers swept across an opaque sky. The world seemed to erupt into flame for an instant before a massive shock wave rippled across its surface as though a heavy stone had been tossed into a calm pond. The rippling effect shook the buildings from their roots and they fractured into a thousand shattering pieces to a mosaic of human civilization. When they fell it was as if new earthquakes had been violently born from the womb of destruction and instinctively increased the size of the impact. A rushing wind of fire and ash scorched ones skin off, the result of the impacting devastation that was still occurring. And then to crown the sight, a fiery angel of death plumed upward and painted itself against the sky, a lusterless dead sky, and one could tell that all hope was gone...
Broken
My will had fled into the shadowy corners of despair but my body remained in hell. Bound to the dark side of the force of life, brutality is my new best friend. To feel first hand the effects of a broken mind at the hands of mercilessness is a torture few would have to endure. To break the human spirit to an irrevocable point is like a host to a parasite. When the host has been drained of all life, it cannot be used to further sustain the parasites own life force. Those who seek only to torment have become the parasites of brutality, but not to take your life, but to drain it. They drain it through the thin tubes of cruelty where it leaks into a forgotten abyss. Without spirit, without life, things are desolate and weak even in the most blissful of environments. The slightest shadow becomes an agent of in hospitality and trust shatters into oblivion. All sanity has been purged and driven from my mind, and I pick at an empty hollow shell encapsulated within my skull in search of things long lost. I cringe in the shadows and learn to appreciate the one last thing I can feel, the brutality that has driven me into the depths of insanity but kept me alive. I think I have been given a gift of life, but instead continue to take more and more away from me even when I have nothing. Needless to say, my grief lies onward, and my joys fractured and broken lay twisted and ruined in the past.
More treasures to come soon enough. Yes they are dark and devoid of happy endings, so please do not critique them based on those facts. Instead please try to appreciate the time and the effort I have put in to create interesting sentences, paint images of things with words, and forge metaphors to describe things few can imagine. Should this be a success you will be allowed to delve further into thee Ark of the Valkyrie to seek all of its treasures.
Sorry I didn't post earlier. I just saw all the new parts. So far, they are incredible. Surprisingly, stories I read on AG are better than of any book I have read.
Yes, I usually don't write very long stories. I seem to have some sort of problem where I can't write long things, they have to be short. I'll need to overcome it if I'm going to write a book one day, but for now as long as it doesn't interfere with the stories themselves I think it is alright.
Ok, here is the final part.
The metal bonds that were restraining me suddenly exploded off, and I was free. Everything was in slow motion. I slid off of the table just before the coffin lid came down and grabbed a hypodermic syringe from a table. Still in slow motion, I threw it at the nearest scientist and pegged him right between the eyes. Wasting no time, I bolted for the door and ran for my life.
Of course, security was on high alert, and I spent days hiding in ventilation shafts and navigating a network of large tunnels and pipes until I finally escaped into a toxic world. It wasn't as bad as it had been during the simulation, but close enough. I ran beyond the fence, beyond the boundaries, into the wild, an unexplored frontier that no man has ever dared venture into. Now I am an outlaw, I am hunted for what I am, feared for what I can be, but I will stop at nothing to bring the government down no matter the cost.
My jounrey begins...
This is the end of the short story (sorry for such a short last part) but the story itself isn't over. I'm not sure if this is something I will ever continue, but if I do then I will post it here.
Ivan's dog Morton was the most faithful hound there was. When he was a puppy he needed great discipline, but Ivan made his dog into an extraordinary companion. Ivan had always wanted to make Morton into a fetching dog, one that would go get anything. He'd fetch tennis balls, newspapers, anything Ivan wanted. Ivan was proud of his dog Morton.
One day, soldiers came to Ivan's house to kill him. Ivan was once a soldier, but now he was being betrayed by the army for money. Ivan fought them back, but there was to many. In desperation, Ivan pulled out a grenade. He threw the grenade at the soldiers attacking him. But something happened. The grenade didn't go off. For Morton had run and grabbed the grenade and brought it back to his master. When Morton came back he dropped the grenade at Ivan's feet, and Ivan was more terrified than he had ever been in his whole life.
When the grenade went off, it was Ivan who had been killed, not the soldiers he had been aiming for. And it was all because of irony. The irony that Ivan had wanted to discipline Morton. His lack of patience had been a curse all along. Had he not disciplined Morton they may still both be alive.
And that is irony.
The Last Story
The tour guide was leading the group on an expedition in the Savannah of Africa. He was part of the Animal Humane Society. It was there he was showing them all of the diverse wildlife that could be seen.
The group had been divided into smaller groups of 4, and these small groups rode upon large elephants. These are what were used to take them along on the tour.
Little did they know, a vicious lion was stalking them in the shadows. And when it pounced, he grabbed the tour guide and began to eat him alive. No one else was killed.
The irony was that the tour guide, who had been with the Animal Humane Society had been killed by one of the animals he had worked to protect from poaching and hunting.
