Kuro's Short stories & stuff

Retrospected Writer

The pen swings back & foth
Writer lost in his madness, oblivious to ink staining his wonky fingers
Sunglasses cast aside, for the crime of restricting short distance reading
One deepset reincarnated eye fixed, hazed, upon the scrall. Other held shut, with midnight darkness hat jaunted to aid its coverment, to advert disasterious reprocutions.
Coat vanishing farme, pointed collar up illusoning shreaded wings. Scarlet eye of steel skull sways as holders chain rattles as hand skitters frame
Body uncared for, but deeply beloved by entrenched mind perspires to smug ramble as tangled hair of half covering beard banished to neck bounces. Singular eyebrow forced into forever scowl by glaring at idiots encountered of late.
Mad scrawl continues from mind to hand to page from one who lives by false name & exists by one given by those considered vermin to point of grudging acceptance.
Dressed as last un-survivor of ancient serpentine race, shrouded in darkess. The last of people forced to drab in darkness to scrounge what little warmth of an unfavourable Sol.
Mind & body same as one savior turned saviorie of race known by man as Goblin.
Named in their tounge as "A small yet graviously warm flame, merciful of ardent carnage" for slaughtering men who wished harm to young.
All except concealed eye. Plucked from fresh corpse of a slave of the Black Serpent. Bestower of power; teleportation, atomisation, spells, acrobase & knowledge.
Entrenched in the ending times
Of flesh with Rebellious demon
Of mind with Treachour demi-god
Of kin with Grief fueled life slayer & Solice fueled death slayer
Of distant blood with Ancient evil, Harmonous Goddess, Guiding Ecentricity, Martial Princess & Yokai slayer driven by shallow vengence
Of existence with Behooved poet, Wordy wall glitch & purple drenched prince.
Eternal soul knowing ranter
Paradoxix ruinating fang
Double of blade's artisan
A true villain who welcomes unsuspecting reader
But I tire of writing & so does he
Why wouldn't we?
For we are one & the same

-Santuary

Shadowkin




The Surf Pestered the land, as Mid-dusk played with wayward shadows. Three in particular seems especially entertaining for it.
The Fattest one sneezed, as his shadow inexperly did the can-can
"Sand... I hate Fucking sand!"
"You've said, tahr..." replied the taller one, as his shadow did something unspeakable to a nearby tree.
"Why she wants this brat to have fun is beyond me" he spat, glowering at the little girl, for whom splashing in the shallows seemed a most splendid affair.
"Welps supposed to be a prisoner and why in the name of all that glitters do 'we' have to watch her?!" He sniffed chestfuly, giving his compardray a sidewards glance and added
"You ok, Crow?"
Crowe sighed morrosly as he watched the kid get startled by minnows.
"Just thinking about what it be like to have kids" He muttered blankly.
"Look, it wasn't-"
"DROP IT!... I'm fine..." Crowe over-ruled his friend.

The two men stood in silence, as the kid attempted to get her own-back on the Minnows.
The fat man sneezed again.
"Sorry Crowe. Can't handle this bloody sand anymore, so I'll go keep a look out from the hill"
"Hang, Bale... and it's a dune, not a hill"
Bale gave him the finger as he walked off, without looking back. Crowe smiled slightly to himself as he turned to watch the kid.

A Couple minutes past, in which interest was lost.
Both by the Dusk, which has given up it's attempts to annoy the three with their shadows; and of the kid in the sea, who had turned her attentions on Crowe. After a while she got up & walked over, crounced near & stared at him.
He ignored her, looking blearily at the horizon.

She spent a few seconds tilting her head side to die, eyes fixed on him. Then she sprang up, leaning forwards and putting hands behind her back.
"What's the time mista wulf~" she trilled in a silly sing-song voice.
"Nearly dinner time, depending how annoyed you make me" as deadpan as a stone with a hole in it, resolutly not looking at her.
She gave a mock little scream, placing both hands over her head and crouching down. Crowe didn't react in the slightest.

She looked up with an almost disappointed look on her face.
"Are you ok, mista? You look lost..."
Crowe's dark eyes qwivered slightly. Luckily for him, his lank hair was in such a place that the girl couldn't see it do so.
"You shouldn't think so hard. Big bro says thats what makes people have one ibrow"
Crowe's eyes snapped to position them to sate into hers.
"Aren't you scared, little girl?" Crowe asked quietly.
"Nope!" she smiled at Crowe, who's pupils contracted.
"My Big bro's gunna come get me. And it's Dilly, not little girl" her face now in a pout & her fists raised to her chests.
"Fiesty little bugger, ain't cha?" Sneered Bale, as he came down the hill, bringing the vague wif of Tobacco with him. Dilly wrinkled her nose at the smell.
Crowe turned his head head to look at him.
"Thought you quit"
"Only 'cause we ran out"

Bale reached out to grab Dilly, but she drew back and clutched Crowe's hand, as he stood up.
He looked down at her, a puzzled look in his eyes.
Bale laughed at this and sputtered something that sounded like "Hiding froma thug, behind a psychopath"
The three set off over the dunes towards the road.

But the Dusk has one last trick.
A shadow darted from a tree.
The two men fell, as if struck and Dilly and the Shadow vanished.