
The Three Faces of DeathDeath has three faces,The Three Faces of Death by ~Mystrii
Three faces that swell
With fear and anger,
But tranquility as well.
The first of Death’s faces
Do most fear most.
It’s devilish gaze
Pierces into its host.
Fear overtakes us,
When we stare into its eyes.
But Death’s not skin-deep,
No, it tells truths and lies.
Death’s second face,
We find ourselves facing
When we’ve overcome fear
And our minds are racing.
Final thoughts, words,
No, they mean nothing—
Not when it's despair
That Death is bluffing.
We find that we kneel
Where we wouldn’t have before.
We drown in our thoughts
That we have, that we swore.
But not all is ever lost,
Not all is quite gone.
We've still got ourselves
and family to count on.
But then comes the third,
The one most like most.
It shows the way
To becoming a ghost.
Whether the way is good,
Or whether it’s bad,
The third face of Death
Gives us everything we had.
It guides us to the place,
The place that is ours,
Where w

Another Heart of DarknessOctober 25, 2186.Another Heart of Darkness by ~Mystrii
This marks the beginning of my logs aboard the space-bound vessel La Gente Zonza. I am the captain of this ship under orders by the United Nations to venture to a planet under their control. On that planet, there is a company under control of the UN that has run into some sort of problem. I was given orders to relay the United Nations’ concern and offer my assistance. If it can help my fellow people, I will gladly do it.
October 28, 2186.
La Gente Zonza has run into some problems of her own. For now, my crew and I are trapped planet-side. The UN is looking into it, but out here in the middle of Russia, I fear we may be out of luck for a good while. The winter is not even upon us, and yet we are already freezing here.
November 6, 2186.
I have recently received word from the UN that they are sending out a team of professional engineers to fix La Gente Zonza. The man who sent this information will be going with us to the planet. H

The CleansingThe boy lived a normal life in suburbia. He woke up in the morning. His mother or father made him breakfast, depending on which one had already left for work. Once all was done and he was dressed and bathed, his teeth brushed, his hair combed, his shoes slipped on, he was taken into his parent’s car and driven off to be deposited at the preschool. There, he was subjected to learning basic shapes, some colors, mathematics, and such until he and his peers were put to sleep for a nap, and whenever he would sleep, he would dream. These were, however, daytime dreams, and thus were spritely, full of colors and beauty. In a word, they were purThe Cleansing by ~Mystrii
