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Chapter Prologue: Page 2

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Dialogue Copy Below:

#spirit's world #chapter prologue #pg. 2

I believe my inner monologue is done, i think, so now would be a good time to try actually do what my mom says. “Anthony Castello Carter get your butt down here already! I’ve called for you three times already!” My mom called out from downstairs as she most likely needed me for something. “Coming, Ma!” I called out from my room which rested on the second floor just before the stairs leading down to the ground floor. I stood up, wearing my jeans and hoodie were always my go to clothes even if I was inside, before quickly exiting my room to flow downstairs to the living room where my mom called to me. Upon entering stood one of my good friends Flynn. He was someone on the weak side but had a big heart to make up for it. My mind starts to trail off, but I quickly snap out of it. No. Now is not the time for that brain. Stop it, get back on track. My mom looked from him to me before soon exiting the room, a smile on her face, with the words, “I’ll leave you two alone. Just call for me if you need anything.”

#Abstraction #Book 1: Whirlwind #Chapter 1 #Pg. 2

Page 2 is out! Updates will most likely be every week on Thursday.

Read MAGENTALOCKE here:

DeviantArt | Smack Jeeves

#magentalocke #nuzlocke #nuzlocke challenge #nuzlocke comic #pokemon #pg. 2 #update

UnderTone

Cover

Back / HERE / Next Pg.2

#Undertone #Pg. 2 #bit short but eh

#Perp&SweebPt.1 #pg. 2

>remove bag from head.

You seem to be in some sort of cell. This definitely wasn't where you passed out last night. There's no light in your cell, just overhead in the hallway beyond your bars.

#comic #interactive comic #story #interactive story #pg. 2 #we vibing now boys))

Pg.2 Chapter 1

Hidden Among the Terrors

eavy footfalls disturbed the silence of the marsh. Splashing through the sludge and muck, the armor clad behemoth strode with a dutiful demeanor. It was the Black Swordsman. He was adorned in darkened steel plates, odd trinkets dangled from decorative chains, and strange sigils were etched into each metal stratum. There were fine white furs shrouding his shoulders, they waved in the hushed breeze and bounced with each step. Upon the furs rested a wicked zweihänder, its second set of quillions looked to be scorched and curved ever so slightly toward the tip of the blade. The weapon was very fitting for its bearer, it appeared rugged and dangerous, worn but tempered- just like the swordsman.

Lightning cracked the sky, illuminating strange fleshy masses that loomed overhead. The trees flinched when the sound of thunder had broke the swordsman's stride. He halted, standing as still as stone. The realm would shift, once again. The four nails of pewter and sun-stuff that hung from the man's left pauldron by a small silver chain began to shiver and emit a faint glow. They were useful tools, especially given his current endeavor. They acted as dimensional anchors that were used for travel between the realms of Oblivion, forged and enchanted by a former Sunbird Captain and Engineer. The way the Dreamstride worked made it difficult for one to sanely traverse the realm, it's perpetually changing grounds made it next to impossible to navigate without the blessing of Vaermina. His eyes narrowed as the air shivered- he had only a brief window to open an old wound in the realm and invade another mortals nightmare.

The second his surroundings began to dim and fold in upon itself, the swordsman crushed a small blue stone in his fist and scattered the dust in the empty space before him. The shivering air moved more sporadically now, the powder seemed to agitate the very fabric of reality. Then it appeared, the hole in rift that would lead him to another pocket dimension of Quagmire. To a place that would temporarily harbor another mortal's mind. To a new nightmare.

"Mama?"

His heart sank, the scene that slowly appeared before him wasn't going to be an easy one to take in. Not even for someone who has witnessed horrors beyond explanation. Children, especially children as young as the small girl that uneasily stepped before him, always made things more complicated. Their capacity for fear was immense, far beyond the limitations of the matured mind. Adolescence could breed unimaginable terrors, their fragile minds destroyed the boundaries of sanity. He hafted the massive blade off of his shoulder and tightened his grip on the leather hilt.

"M-m-mama?!" Her voice quivered.

The gargled voice of what sounded almost like a raven emanated from the shadows in front of the small girl. A black liquid pooled out from the same corner, slowly spreading across the splintered wooden floor and rushing past the childs feet. The swordmans stepped forward, then knelt down to place a plated hand on the girls shoulder, she jumped at his touch but made not a sound.

"Stand back," his rough face softened as best it could in an attempt to comfort the girl. The mans voice was deep and gravely. His smile was broken, the jagged scars that ran across the length of his face cracked his upper lip and malformed his expression. Cold blue eyes lacking pupils peered down at the girl, then flickered up towards the shadows. The girl stumbled back into a puddle of the black sludge.

The Swordsman stood to face the darkness...