Silver-proofWerewolf

I held the cup of fuming herbal brew in my hands, easily overlapping the mug with one palm alone. I inhaled the scent, thinking of home. The bare wire LED lamp overhead shot a focused ray overhead, over the wood table wallowing in mud. Not that the chair I slumped on was doing any better, drowning in the grime as well. Aces, Mal and Lekk all snoozed in their sleeping bags. Only I were not asleep, always the freaking watchdog  to stay up at nighttime. I had to modify my gear myself. It ain't easy when you fight with your kin but are far more capable of them. The common gear does not suffice. I could shift at will, without a time limit, wit

 I never felt alive. I always felt dead inside. Scared. Frightened. Petrified. Mortified. Choking. There's no air in this thik damp darkness. But how does choking feel like? I don't feel any different. I'm not breathing. I scream. There's no sound coming from my lips. No one is going to help me out of here. I claw my way up desperately, decay biting at me. I feel the soil, moss and maggots slump and slither into my mouth; I can't feel anything but their disgusting touch.   I feel like I'm more dead than every other day. I claw and kick and scream, my body feeling so heavy, distorted and decayed. I feel so darn dead. The soil overhead co

With one single, subtle flick of her nimble fingers, she made figures dance; inanimate hollow figures, dancing, a parade upon my puny desk. I would lie in bed, pretending to sleep, my breath almost completely taken away by her magic. I was mesmerized. And then she'd close her palms over the scene, as if closing the curtains, and it will all be back to normal, no magic, no life, no nothing. And then the stool will turn, green eyes would pierce me from the frame of the cascade of curls. "Are you asleep?" She would ask, her tones tender, honey sweetness in my sweetie's voice. "Was;" I would retort. I wonder when will this magic turn at me, beca

 Old pal; I remember the day when we were put on trial for the first time. I still feel that utter astonishment from that dreaded moment your life-line went dry. We traveled lands no other had the gift of seeing, and basically; you were God's hand of creation. We are all ephemeral things, though it strikes us below the belt only when time claims what it has given, lent us for a strict and set period which will eventually end. I could not believe it happened. You were like a martyr, never to know the life of you would also be your death. We shared many moments; agony, anxiety, bliss, and the strange sense of being worthwhile. God... Dammit. Th

"Stop biting your nails;" she would say to me whenever my fingers came in the proximity of my mouth. I do it out of stress or boredom, can't really help it. It's not like she wasn't chewing her nails too every once in a while. "Itchy teeth;" she would say. ______________ Freaking two in the morning. Downpour. Thunders cracking like the sky was planning to fall apart and bury us all. Reminds me of the night I wanted to be buried for what I've done. I've killed. And eaten. I ripped that blasted bully to bloody bits. I reach for the cellphone on the drawer, a terrible feeling wrenching in my gut. Mid-text, I get a text from her, so I stop