Short Stories
 | A Mutant's Best FriendHe was so tired of being made a spectacle of. Mutants were so outcast these days...
by yoshisislandbandit |  | Introspection of the MisunderstoodThe sky shines bright blue today, clear enough that you can almost see to the heavens above. From down here, one can only imagine the vastness of space, of what lies beyond, out of reach from all but the most intrepid.
by mucka33 |  | Quiggles PlusWhen the freighter arrives, the captain finds the baby Grundo eating his turnips. He's furious. He takes the baby with him, to the market in Meridell, then on to the rubbish heap to dump the half eaten turnips and leaves the youngster there.
by edawg202 |
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"Introspection of the Misunderstood" by mucka33
The sky shines bright blue today, clear enough that you can almost see to the heavens above. From down here, one can only imagine the vastness of space, of what lies beyond, out of reach from all but the most intrepid. There are those whose hearts yearn to explore the unknown, to discover planets anew and life unrecorded. To stare back at our modest home from the void, insignificant and yet full of passion and resolution. But, although we cry out with the emotions and griefs of millions, there is only silence to answer our calls. Honestly, I cannot think of anything more discouraging than the realization that, perhaps, we are collectively alone. A funny contradiction, that.
Others, like myself, are more than content to live out our lives on our sprawling planet. There are plenty of mysteries to keep one occupied for their entire life, and at the end, never truly solve any of them. That’s the beauty of such a diverse world. You don’t have to travel far to find something undiscovered.
I am one such enigma. I hear the whispers of vacant travelers as they try to solve the puzzle. I have seen their purpose-driven attitudes, feverish eyes, insatiable thirsts to seek and destroy. Infallibly, their tactics spiral into aggression. After all, there is nothing more dangerous than the unknown. It is a monster lurking with glistening fangs and hungering eyes, sharp claws and deadly spines. It is the shadows of our doubts, our own minds tricking us into believing there is danger when there exists nothing more than a gust of wind through the trees. It drives one mad. While some flee, others stay to fight, seeking to identify the unknown and destroy its state of existence. To assure their own selfish peace of mind at the expense of others.
My refuge is Mystery Island. The jungles grow so lush that one can be lost for years and never truly explore its entirety. I rely on the island to protect me, and yet ironically, no one themselves is an island; we’re inexplicably bound to others, bound to meet others. I am no stranger to chance encounters. Such meetings are as inevitable as the seasons changing, the sun setting, the cosmos growing ever darker. Today is no exception.
Other Stories
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 The Price of Greatness: Part Two
Marvin looks appalled when he returns to find you feeding your new Weewoo straight from the olive jar. His persistent yelling scares the bird into hiding under your bed. It takes ten minutes and half of your doughnutfruit sandwich to coax him back into the open. In the end, Marvin volunteers to be the Weewoo's permanent caretaker.
by xxskyisfallingxx |
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 Undead Rising: Part Three
Bernard coughed as smoke covered the area, filling his lungs and making his eyes water. What in the world was that? “Confound it! Another potion failed…” A rather irritated voice came from inside the small hut. “I’d better air out the shack again. That smell is awful…”
by yoshisislandbandit |
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