asioca0827

My name is Henry… That's all I can remember, or at least…that's all I can recall.  I wake up in a cold alley; snow crunchy beneath me as I try to pick myself off of the ground.  My arm aches, yet it doesn't seem sluggish or numb and I can move it well enough.  I check myself out, see holes in my tattered green jacket yet I cannot see any blood. I feel cold, not just from the early winter air but a cold that seems to slow down my brain and catch in my throat.  I cough and finally pick myself off of the ground and look myself over in the reflection of a broken window, clouded and dusty from disrepair. I see a scar running down my c

Mao looked into the eyes of the gentlemen and gained satisfaction at the distant look in his face.  Overcoming the gentleman's assault gave him an air of confidence and made up for the punishment he had to endure earlier.  Wasting no time, he subconsciously ordered the gentlemen the heal him of his injuries.  The gentlemen nodded in agreement and went to retrieve Mao's severed hand from the floor of the padded prison.  When he returned, he psychically held the hand in the air, directly in front of the stump and began to heal Mao of his injuries. At first Mao didn't detect any difference in his injuries

In a small house in the middle of a barren wasteland, a young boy inspected the landscape from his balcony.  He watches the landscape in front of him as old memories begin to flood his mind until he saw something on the horizon.  Far away, he saw a mutant chasing a hapless survivor as if in a game of tag.  He watched as the mutant overtook the survivor, brutalized it, and devoured its flesh as if it had been deprived of sustenance for days.  The boy had long since become desensitized to the horrors of this cruel reality, but he always wondered why the mutants ever bothered to eat since they were no more than irradiated husks of their previous