Klmp13

Just a quick, unfinished quote from around the middle of the novel or so. “Why do you look upon your own father’s back with such hate? When I have seen him show nothing but love for you?” Walker levels his confused stare at her; awaiting an explanation for the puzzling scene. “Love?” She spits out the word incredulously. “You believe that man has the warm love for a daughter in his heart?” The mistress’ hands silently grip the hem of her dress; the only physical sign of her rage. “Of course! He may be a bit gruff, but did I not see it moments ago?” Walker gently turns her shoulder t

“Papa? Why don’t I go to school?” A tiny girl with long golden hair and sapphire eyes looks down upon a snow and soot stained city from a window high above. The hulking statue hunched over a large black desk shifts in his chair, and while reading a stack of documents, he glances over at his daughter by the window. “Hmm? What was that?” “They seem to be having so much fun… Look! Those boys are throwing balls of snow at each other! How silly!” The tiny girl giggles as her breath fogs up the window. Much of the soiled and airless world still seems bright, and full of wonder when seen through her

Mortals may understand me to be Beelzebub, Lucifer, Satan, El Diablo, or one of the other innumerous titles humans have appointed me over the millennia; but from now on you, puny morsel, may know me as Enma. Cute isn’t it? It’s the Japanese name for ‘The Ruler of Hell’. I change which alias I use every few decades or so. Now, I know what you must be thinking, you are probably under the assumption that I am male. Well, you are not completely mistaken. I can be either gender depending on my general mood; and for the last two hundred years or so, I’ve felt like being female. That, however, is of little importance. T

Do you remember those horribly cliché stories about fat kids being bullied, never fighting back, and then never making any friends because no one else wants to be bullied too? That's the story of my life (well sort of anyway). The part about being bullied when I was younger is true enough, but the part about never fighting back or making any friends… not so much. Not only did I fight back, I oftentimes won. My greatest victory was during my 4th grade year in elementary school, when I had five close friends to protect from the other kids. This is the memory of the last day this particular group decided to pick on us, and it's the