Sample One:
Kamila rolled her eyes, sick of the interactions already. She wanted to get up and leave, but she knew by now, she was already being searched for. If only she had never ran– if that were even an option. It all just seemed like a giant lose-lose situation. All that was left to be decided was who lost first. How long could they all keep fighting before both sides met their end. Threadbare with scrapes and scars. It was truly… odd for her to think about. But nevertheless, she was going to fight with these strangers. Because she wanted to be the loser who would win.
She snapped her gaze back to the semi-bickering people. Her blonde hairs whipped over her face, gently rocking back into position. As she spoke again, her eyelids rested halfway down her eyeballs. Covering the crystal irises like half-drawn curtains.
"My name is Kamila Ondrejová," she stated, "you can remember the name or not. It's your choice. But like it or not, we're working together here." Her eyes stabbed into Cleo's with the last sentence, just to give a little push of 'especially you.' She finished off her introduction while returning her gaze back to the book she read, No Longer Human.
"I hope that I can come to trust you all some, and that you all aren't terribly dreadful," she closed. As she said this, her eyes caught onto some of the words in the book:
'For someone like myself in whom the ability to trust others is so cracked and broken that I am wretchedly timid and am forever trying to read the expression on people's faces.'
She winced at this, and kept reading on.
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Sample Two:
Nikki tapped her feet on the floor in boredom and swayed slightly. She inhaled, and if she hadn't caught herself, she would've let out an exhale so much louder. However, she paused, covered her mouth and exhaled into her hands.
Her eyes caught on every last inhabitant of the library within her field of vision. Making eye contact with some, and just staring at the backs of necks of some others. She watched people leave, come in, check out books, sit around and read. And despite all this business, she didn't find a thing to entertain her. Not even the old guy at the check-out desk asking "what'd you say?" after ever word the librarian said. And usually he would at least make her giggle.
She sighed and stood, brushing off her seat and the jean skirt she wore. She made her way back to the classics section which she had gotten the book from. She sat the book back on a shelf, a random one, since she didn't even know which shelf she'd gotten it from in the first place. She waddled away from the isle, hoping that no one would notice and scold her for it.
Nikki looked left and right after vacating the isle and then began to make her way back to her seat, only to find it was taken by the old man who was once at the check-out. Her face swirled with disappointment and frustration, and she spun around to search for any other empty seats. Her large, hopeful eyes caught onto three possible seats. One across from a woman who was audibly talking to herself, the second next to a forest-eyed boy, and the third in the kids' section. If she didn't have just a little more decency, Nikki would have, without a doubt, headed for the tiny chair in the kids' section. But, alas, she decided to go and sit next to the forest-eyed boy, hoping the awkwardness would fade if she sunk into her phone a little.
To zero surprise to her, she still felt awkward after minutes of sitting next to him on her phone. Part of herself just wanted to sink into her champagne brown hair and go poof. All she hoped was that in the case he did notice her, that he was feeling less awkward than she.
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Sample Three:
Haida's mind creaked to a stop. Taking in everything one word at a time. Gods, Titans, Demons… it all made little sense to him. He could hardly see what connection he'd have with any of the seven Gods before him. It hurt his head just thinking about it, and wrinkles appeared in his forehead at he furrowed his brows.
The words Hestia spoke were true. They were only human, so just what could they do against the Demons and the Titans that these gods spoke of. Even with the power of the Gods, one would still keep their human heart, one would still listen to it. So what was there to convince them to not turn tail and run? This wasn't where any of them were before, he was sure of it. So why should it be their problem now?
He looked around, everything looked simple. It dawned on him, if it wasn't to be there problem now, there would likely be a greater problem in the future. With this realization upon him, he kept his eyes on the Gods and spoke carefully, but in a steady voice.
"Okay," he nodded gently, "I understand."
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Sample Four:
Aaron awoke slowly to the ring of his alarm clock, his back aching just enough for it to be noticeable. As he gently lifted open his eyes, his vision was invaded by the white of a familiar Chinese food container. He could barely recall what happened last night and could hardly say he desired to know. He didn't like to think about forgetting, it made him feel like he was a failure. So he moved on with his morning.
He slithered out of bed and over to the minuscule, maple wood table that held his alarm clock. He calmly clicked down on a small little button to stop the noise and surveyed his room. Almost as if seeing it for the first time.
He found it amazing how much different the world looked through his amnesic eyes. He looked around at the luxury that surrounded him and couldn't help but feel it wasn't his, but he had no time to dwell on that. He had a concert to perform that day, along with many other things.
He walked over to his bathroom slowly, taking in the feel of his room's carpet against his bare feet. Once he reached the bathroom, the warm, scratchy sensation turned to the more cold one of the tile flooring. He soon found his own face within that small room. It was staring right back at him through that dreaded glass contraption.
He sighed at the sight. His eyelids were drooping, his mouth was pulled into a frown, his eyes were red, his hair was a mess. He swept his hair back from where it had rested over his blue and brown eyes. He sighed deeply and let out two gossamer words from his thin, chapped lips.
"How pitiful."
However, he knew that he had little time to dwell on that. It was his job to "look pretty and make people happy" and he couldn't do that just staring at himself. He faintly whispered to the haunting figure in the mirror, reaching his hand forward almost as if to caress its cheek.
"That's what you're supposed to do, that's what you need to do... so why can't you do it?" He had choked slightly on the last few words, biting his lip to keep tears from falling. As he walked away from the mirror, replacing his hair over his eye, he whispered. "I'm just curious."
He strolled out of the bathroom and over to the small closet that managed to fit all of his clothes. Carefully, he pulled open the creaky, white door of the cramped room and pored over the contents of it. Within all of it, he had to keep in mind one thing: "what would the people want me to wear today?"
With that in mind, he finally settled on something simple. A pair of black jeans, a red hoodie with a jean jacket over it, and to top it off, I black headband he had gained from a fan. He decided that that would be good enough and set off out of his apartment, only taking his phone with him.
It was going to be a busy day for him. Interviewing all day, performing all afternoon, and planning all night. Some days he wished that he could disappear. Even if only for the hour, even if he had to return to the Hell everyone called Earth. For if he disappeared, the weight of the world and all of its soil would no longer be on him. He would be free from his captivity. He would be happy again.
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Sample Five:
A simple Sunday afternoon, at least that's what it should have been, but yet again, Kyo had a call to a crime scene. Some days it made Kyo wish he'd never become a hero; it was quite irritating and troublesome at times. Every person should at least have one Sunday in peace. But that wasn't in the score for Kyo, especially with the organization this had to do with. Lostux was its name, Kyo would always read it as 'lost tux' by mistake.
But despite the slight silliness of the misreading, the organization was no laughing matter. It played with the lives of the innocent far too much and it had to be stopped, certainly. But it would be ridiculous if Kyo was sent there to handle it all on his own, no no, he was merely there to investigate. Despite being one of the silliest looking heroes around, he was also one of the most intelligent.
He strolled up to the crime scene with his hands in his pockets and a fake knight's helmet on his head. The atmosphere around the area was depressingly grey. There was nearly no colour aside of the splotches of red on the ground like fireworks. Though they were slightly hard to see through his blindfold, Kyo took notice of these and sighed. Something obviously had gone far out of line at the crime scene.
Kyo turned the corner to see more blood, as well as a battered body laying on the ground. His grey eyes widened with shock and he rushed over. "Woah, woah, hold it!" he called over to the person standing over the body. They were more than obviously the cause of the injuries, bloody clothes, brass knuckles; Kyo would have to be near blind not to notice such striking evidence. Kyo placed his hands on his hips and sighed.
"Just what kind of knowledge or satisfaction do you expect to get from this person? They're practically a corpse!" The tone that Kyo took on was nagging and what some people would consider annoying, but frankly, Kyo hadn't a care about it. He leaned down to the body and touched the greatly defiled person. As his fingertips came in contact with the damaged skin, the person winced slightly, it was at least a sign that the person was alive, even if not for much longer. Kyo returned to his standing position, once again his hands took place on his hips.
"Just who the hell are you?" he demanded, "Beating the living daylights out of someone who definitely would have had mental torture work better." He clicked his tongue with disappointment. "And you better not give me silent treatment like the other people I've encountered," he added, "I understand that I look stupid with this helmet on, but…"
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Sample Five:
Riku nodded with almost every word that the other said, he wanted to seem polite and show that he was intently listening. He had quite a few worries about the bath: how much it would sting, if it was hot, if he'd be able to get in and out of it without falling. Though he decided to voice none of those concerns. It would all work out, he was sure.
"I-I'll be fine on my own," he stumbled slightly on his words. He had spoken before he himself prepared and it almost all came out in a rushed whisper, one he could only hope was coherent. He bowed to Moriko, a strange gesture, though one that felt appropriate to Riku in the moment. "Thank you!" he blurted out, his once pallid face flushed pink with slight embarrassment. Before the other could even begin their response, Riku whipped around and hurried into the bathroom, clutching the spare clothes he was given tightly within his palms.
The bathroom was slightly humid with steam from the recently-drawn bath. The smell of the herbs in the water gave him a familiar sensation. It reminded him of… could he even call it home? It surely had lost its feeling of homeliness once he had come to see the sunrise of 15 years. The proper term could be his past residence..? Past? Had he any intention of going back? It gnawed at Riku's brain, addressing that place did, but regardless, it was that place that he was reminded of. It filled him with the warmth of good memories of his friends, his animals, his mother. What wrong had he truly done to deserve to lose them all? Tears began to burn in his eyes and he just made the decision to get into the bath.
Slowly, he undid his robes; his eyelids twitched slightly as his dark eyes caught onto bruises and cuts along his torso. His mind ached knowing that there would be more. It somewhat amazed him that through all the floggings and other abuse that he managed to survive, not just physically, but psychologically as well. Borderline torture such as that was would be enough to break most other people, perhaps he was as hard-headed as the village folk insisted he was. He removed his arms' bandages, swollen cuts and bruises lined up underneath them. The price of survival was truly a hefty one.
Once completely undressed, he began to adjust himself into the water at a slowed pace. The warm fluid wrapped around Riku's chapped skin in a way that felt foreign. He began to sink down more, the water displacing slightly with the shape of his frail body. He let out a loud yelp when the water touched the wounds along his arms. His clammy hands let go of the sides of the bath he was using for support and he landed at the bottom with a splash and a muffled thud. His cursed lightly to himself and held some slight hope that the other did not hear that… tragedy.
He grabbed the washing rag that was delicately draped over the side of the bath and used it to rub gently against the wounds. He hissed at each sting, and sometimes let out brief whimpers of protest. All that kept him going was the fact that it would be over faster if he did.
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Sample Six:
Agtharak snuck through the building by ducking around corners with a swiftness and keeping his dark apparel around as much of his body as possible. Every now and then, someone would notice him, and he'd have to quickly send them off with an "I'm new here." The horrid smell of his blood-tainted breath enough to make them gag and fall to the ground, violently pale. But of course, he didn't kill them. There was no reason.
He made it up to the rooftop where a lost demon stood, staring at the sun and hissing, quite annoyingly too. It acted it were a vampire rather than demon. His mouth opened to speak, but he was consciously of what he was going to say. Pathetic. He shivered at it, realizing that he was practically a broken record. A simple doll with a voice box that always said the same two phrases. He wondered when his voice box would finally break.
Dismissing the thought, he walked carefully over to the demon, though he was sure that it would be duly hard to hear him over the hissing. He placed a hand atop the demon's red shoulder and gripped it tight. "Vanish!" he commanded, and surely so, the demon poof-ed away, leaving a small string of smoke in it's disappearance. Thankfully, it wasn't an aimless soul. Agtharak did not have even a shred of enough patience to speak his release chant once again.
He turned around to see Rose being held captive by five people from his vantage point. His distance was far too great to observe gender, skin complexion, or even height. But either way, he decided to head down and see that things were sorted out. Her took a few steps back from the edge of the roof, then jumped off with a running start. The rapid change in altitude disoriented his human form for a moment, but he managed to quickly shake it off. He walked up to the group casually, speaking in a calm tone; his face was practically made out of stone.
"So," he began, "what's going on here?" He had no fear of these people, as they all seemed quite weak. And being quite frank, if Rose had just been the obedient dog she was supposed to be, she'd have no fear of them either.