©Michael Robertson, March 16 2016
The man stumbled haphazardly down the dimly lit corridor. It was difficult to see. The main lights were off, and most of the doors were locked. The facility was scarcely populated this late. There were guards posted and a few doctors on hand, but most of the personnel were at home, with their families.
Ollie winced at the thought, barely holding back a sob. They were gone. His wife, his child, even Rose. They were all gone, taken away from him, by that bastard.
He’d lost everything!
His hands were clenched into fists so tight his fingertips were threatening to tear open the soft flesh of his palms.
Let them, what did it matter?
The man’s dazed, swollen eyes peeked out from under his messy bangs. His glasses were askew. Clothes were ruffled, and face unshaven. He was drunk, but who the hell cared? Why should he bother to present himself? What did it matter now? He hadn’t shown himself at his workstation for almost a week. He was sick of torturing these unfortunate, forsaken souls. He wouldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t. He was through. Read more…
©Michael Robertson October 5 2015
Prologue II – Imprisoned
She lay back in the bed, jade eyes flickering about her surroundings. Panic-stricken breaths filled her tiny body. Her arms were stretched out, wrists locked in place by metal cuffs while leather belts bound her to the bed.
She was perfectly restrained, she could barely move at all. Green eyes glanced to the men standing around her in the otherwise empty, white room. She could barely move her head, but managed to track the nearest one with her wide, fearful eyes as he approached her, coming to stand beside her.
“No…” she breathed, hoarse voice permeating dry lips. “Not again… not again…”
He stood over her. She saw his hand as it moved to hold her still. She winced, eyes shut tight, knowing what would come next, expecting, and dreading it. A sharp pain as she felt it penetrate her. She felt a single tear warm her face.
The pain intensified. Sharp, hot. The fluid entered her, spread forth within her, burning.
The man removed the syringe from her neck. The pain stabbed her, burned her, kissed her with red-hot pinpricks. Her head was so hot, it felt as though her brain were boiling. Her head split in half, and her sight left her. The whiteness of the room overpowered her senses, blinding her. She knew that she was screaming. She felt it leave her mouth. She felt it in her gut, in her throat, but it never reached her ears. Read more…
Disclaimer: The plot, setting, characters, and everything therein belong to me. ©Michael Robertson, February 4 2016
1731 – Crowe Academy
The air was still, quiet as it chilled the atmosphere of the grounds. Crowe academy covered an expansive amount of land. It was quiet, serene, isolated, remote. It was a place where praeternatural creatures came to learn coexistence, with each other, and most importantly, with naturals – creatures without magical or mystical abilities. Most notably, humans.
All though it was a school which all manner of monstrous beings would attend, these were monsters that would be expected to live and interact within human society. A society which was, and would forever remain ignorant to the praeternatural beings’ true nature, their very existence.
Because of the secretive nature of the school’s purpose, it had to be somewhere out of the way, somewhere reclusive where nobody would stumble upon it. For this reason, the school existed within its own realm, within its own dimension, separate from where humans resided, and independent from the political schemes of the vampires and other powerful races.
Praeternatural parents from all over the world would send their children to learn the skills they would need to live and work in the human world, amongst the local population without drawing suspicion. This was why the astounding space it occupied was necessary. Being one of only two schools of its kind, Crowe Academy attracted a vast number of students; certainly more than any human school. Read more…
Full chapter should be up soon. The prologues are finally done and we get to meet the actual characters. Expect a fair amount of exposition though.
XX
The girl held herself in a feeble embrace as she tried to keep out the chill. The thick, white jacket she wore did little to protect her from the cold. The jacket went down to her waist, where it met a dark skirt that flowed down her legs like the trunk of a tree, strong, supporting her, holding her up despite the otherwise frail appearance of her freezing, shivering form.
Her blue eyes roamed the empty street. Where was he? Where was her escort for the night? His letter had told her to meet him around here, but why? There was nothing of note nearby, only warehouses and factories. At this time of night, this part of the city was dead. There were no furnaces, no people, and little light. There was nothing.
The girl’s milk white skin stood in stark contrast to the blackened sky above her, through which not even the twinkling stars could shine. The long, silky strands of platinum blonde hair lay level and flat in a straight fringe against her forehead, and ran down her back, all the way to her waist, down to where her white coat met her black skirt.
Disclaimer: This story, including plot, setting, all original names, places and characters belong to me. ©Michael Robertson July 16 2015
Summery: For some, love is a rollercoaster; for others, it’s a sickness… Dylan had never much cared for socialising. Distant, introverted, and something of a loner; he’d never been good at meeting people or making friends. That all changed when the mysterious new exchange student suddenly took an interest in him. Smart, beautiful, fast, and popular: she seemed too good to be true, but is she really all that she seems? What could she be hiding behind that vibrant red hair and those emerald eyes? Could she somehow be linked to the recent string of brutal murders within the city, or is her arrival an unfortunate coincidence? Something strange is afoot, and it’s threatening to tear Dylan’s solitary world apart by the seams.
Warnings: Contains graphic violence, sexual violence, offensive language, disturbing content
Prologue I: Abandoned
He was adorned in a black suit. A briefcase was suspended by his left hand. In his right: A key, inserted into the lock. He twisted his wrist, rotating the key. It turned… it stuck.
He checked the handle. The door opened without protest.
The door was unlocked… but why? Was there anyone home? There were no lights on inside. Then again, where else would she be? What the hell was going on?
Why were the lights off?
The man shrugged the burdensome puzzle from his shoulders. He supposed he wouldn’t find the answers out here. Removing the key from the lock, he stepped inside and shut the door. Placing his keys and case in their proper homes, he climbed up the stairs toward his bedroom.
“I’m home!” he called out. Read more…
Okay, I really don’t get this. I’ve been reading over some of my older chapters lately, and I decided to read over my sex scene, (Feeling Filthy – Showtime Virgin: Chapter 8, I believe it is.) Now, I had two different versions. The censored version that I uploaded to ff.net – which goes up to the point where Miri and Tolle undress, then cuts off, and the full, uncut version that I thought I’d uploaded here. I look on here the other day, and I can’t find the full version. Sure, the post is entitled “NSFW,” but it only contains the censored version that’s on ff.net, that has most of the chapter missing. The full chapter was several thousand words long, and it’s not on here
As you can imagine, I was a little embarrassed. I must have got the two mixed up and posted the uncut version to ff.net.
No, ff.net has the short, censored version too. So I must have posted the censored chapter to both sites. Okay. Strange that nobody mentioned it to me. The ff.net one contains a url directing people to the full version here. People clearly read it, one person even complimented me on it, saying it was better than some others they had read. They even asked me for some advice on writing their own sex scene, and told me how it is similar to mine (in that it contained an oral scene,) so they must have read the full version. Read more…
I don’t own Gundam Seed
Lacus
The hallways felt so eerily familiar as she trekked down them for the second time. She felt a chill run down her spine and she shivered as the memories of the previous night assaulted her.
That man, Seiran. Was it true that he’d been fired? Good. Lacus had no sympathy for someone such as him. At least it meant that he wouldn’t be able to touch her again. He wouldn’t be able to finish what he started, to do what he almost did last night. He wouldn’t be able to exact revenge on her for what she did to him in self-defence.
With him gone, if she did secure a job, at least she would be safe.
Lacus hadn’t thought of Tolle as the most responsible of proprietors, but at least he had done his duty and gotten rid of that cretinous degenerate of a man. At least now the dancers could feel a little safer with the knowledge that they were securely out of the grasp of his mitted, talonous, hairy claws. Read more…
