ShadowMaleRenamon

“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed…” Reading the opening line of my favorite novel for the umpteenth time, my legs dangling carefree of over the ledge, the chilled, crisp mountain air filling my lungs, I was at peace. There are many options when it comes to camping, some prefer the warmer months and designated grounds shared with others, some prefer finding their own clearing among the trees, and others basically just bring a second house on wheels into the woods. None of these options are for me though, I prefer the cold weather of the late autumn, just before winter’s freeze, by myself deep beyond where most bother to trek. Many years ago, I had stumbled upon the perfect retreat for loner like myself, long off the marked trails to hills and mountains above the trees. Nestled under the overhang of one of the lesser peaks was a perfectly flat outcropping about the size of a regular living room, shielded from rain, two sides the solid stone

Why does it seem like hamsters never die a natural or peaceful death? I feel like every time someone mentions how their hamster passed away, it’s never peacefully, like waking up in the morning and finding that stopped breathing in their sleep, it’s always something insane. Waking up to find they’ve beheaded their sibling, or frozen in rigor mortis in some bizarre pose, or finding their cage empty and the poor thing somehow stuffed itself down the toilet. What I always found strange isn’t just the insanity of these particular pet deaths, but also the commonality. While I don’t think anyone would expect a hamster to be your companion for life, it’s shocking just how quickly they can just croak overnight. Not only that, despite the near comedic chaos of their deaths, somehow the burial of these cuddly rodents is unmemorable. Growing up, I had multiple as pets, all of them died in a dramatic way, and yet even being sad at the time, I barely, if at all, remember laying them to rest.

“What do you think is over there Mac?” The look on Mac’s face was as quizzical as ever, sometimes I wondered if he ever actually understood me. Rolling my eyes, I turned my gaze back to the huge cement wall that stood before me. For as long as I could remember, the western edge of my home town was always blocked off, large stone cylinders forming a wall with signs promising coming construction, but I had never once seen a truck or a digger or any other vehicle or worker passing through. I’d never heard the sounds of building or seen any structure staring to peek over the wall, hell, there wasn’t even a gate or anything to get past the wall. Every now and then, I’d try to climb over the wall, but there wasn’t any footholds or anything to grab, not that it mattered as mom always caught me and yanked me right back down. Mac had a habit of snitching on me whenever he thought I was in danger, but interrupted or not, I never had a chance of scaling that wall. “It would be nice

Recently I've come to be informed of very strange events regarding a story I wrote over ten years ago. It's getting tiring answering everything in private messages so I'm just going to lay everything out here. I am the original author of Strangled Red. It was originally posted here, it was posted to the wiki under the same name, and my DA name has never changed. I never "passed ownership" to anyone. I don't even know how that would work, it was just three short stories I wrote on a whim. People can do whatever they want with the story, it's not real, it's a pokemon fan fiction from my idiot teen years. All I ask is you respect the characters are based on real people before deciding to project fetishes, desires, politics, etc. I have also been informed of incredibly bizarre accusations of grooming. I don't even know who is making said accusations. I do not use Twitter, I have no social media, I haven't had a clue what was going on until the sudden influx of messages. I have never

This document is a collection of novelized snippets from unreleased and canceled video game projects. Context of the overall and immediate story will be given for each scene, along with the music that inspired said scenes which would provide best reading experience. These are not full stories and will likely not be revitalized projects. Simplified explanations of the planned/completed gameplay will be provided or summarized between brackets where needed. Each snippet is told in first person of the subject character. Scrapbook Subject: Widow’s Web: The Shepherd’s Game Project Summary: Fangame for the Zero Escape series, created in RPG Maker and worked on between the releases of Virtue’s Last Reward and Zero Time Dilemma. Story involves a handful of people abducted into an unknown location with bracelets locked to their wrists showing either a Shepherd or Sheep. They must split into groups and explore the facility while intermittently force to play a guessing game that has a 66%