Zektrannus25735

Hawin Station: The last stop for passengers on Sodor's infamous Glas Branch. The station and line were built by the Sodor & Mainland Railway, and opened for business in June of 1880. The station was abandoned only two decades later, shortly before the S&M itself went bust, and has lain forgotten and empty ever since. Or so they say. The condition of the tracks is poor at best. Trees and bushes have grown right up to the rails, choking the ballast with weeds and grass. Trees line the tracks, blocking out the sun year round save for in winter, when the bare limbs cast their hooked shadows across the line, reaching down from all around

Alarms were never a welcome sound for her, but this one was hated above all others. Marrisa Sanders swore out loud as the speakers in her headset blared a missile lock warning at her. She dumped her external fuel tanks almost out of reflex and put all her weight on the control stick, forcing her Phantom hard left. A glance back over her shoulder confirmed the missile had gone wide, or stupid as other pilots said. Now the Mig was diving down on her and gaining speed, silver body gleaming in the cloudless sky. But Marisa was going to make this punk work for his kill. She continued the circle, and waited until the Mig was level in the turn behi

"The End," She said closing the thin book, "Goodnight Sweetheart." But she should have known it wouldn't be that simple. "But Moooommyyyyy," The young girl whined, slanted amber eyes big and pleading behind her long black hair, something she inherited from her mother. "Can't you tell me one more story?" The mother sighed, having expected this but hoping her daughter would go to sleep after one bedtime story regardless. "Well what would I read you?" She asked in mock confusion as she looked at the girls small book case. "We've already read every book in your library twice." "Tell me the one about the princess!" The little girl said quickly, ex

Jacob scrunched his nose and suppressed a scowl as he eased his way through the door, the smell of spilled beer and vodka mixing with other unmentionable aromas. He'd never had a taste for alcohol, for various reasons, but booze was hardly the only thing this place had going for it. He had to resist the urge to break up a tussle that broke out across the room as one of the more intoxicated customers tried to force himself on one of the dancers as she passed by, attempting to remove what little clothing she was still wearing. Jacob slid up to the bar and ordered a glass of water, making note of the bartenders decidedly unlocal features agains

"And that's the state we're in more or less," she sighed. The woman regarded the man in front of her with critical sea green eyes, not unlike a principal sizing up a student on their first trip to the office. Her shoulder length dirty blonde hair was pinned back behind her ears and her face, though beautiful, bore the lines of both creeping age and years of unvoiced stress. The main difference between reality and the earlier metaphor was that her, 'office,' was a few kilometers underground in international territory, and the so called student was wearing the uniform of the United Nations Volunteer Special Operations Forces. He had no name ta

Change is the nature of our world, but it is a nature shared with a tragic cycle. The year was 2045, and 11 years had passed since the last global war on terror, namely the criminal conspiracy COBRA and the subsequent death of its commander. Of course there have been other conflicts, peace keeping missions and campaigns to free oppressed peoples. But for the first time in decades, the world is without the threat of a faceless, nation-less evil and with no enemy to defend their leaders from, the global force created to fight them was slowly but soon completely disbanded. And all over the world the victory was shared, celebrated, and memoriali

My eyes open to a familiar sound, a constant mechanical racket like the drone of a thousand hornets wings. I shift under my covers, not bothering to pull the pillow over my head, as the sound is already fading to the south east. Gone, both of them. The great metal beasts fly over my head with such regularity that if the sun went out I could still set my clock precisely, then and now. They come nearly everyday and night, flying low, sometimes beneath the clouds, four engines roaring at some imaginary or to my eyes unseen prey. I remember when I was younger, during those hot hazy months when the sun hung in the sky so long it seemed to glare

Today was a very special kind of day. Today The Order of Mata Nui, the organization established by Toa Helryx, the first Toa, welcomed a new member for the first time since the end of the Destiny Wars. Well....maybe member is too strong a word. "So just to make sure I have this correct," Gresh said looking between the faces of the beings assembled around him as he attempted to wrap his mind around what they had told him. "You are all members of an underground secret society as old as the Mata Nui robot, and some of you are even older than that." Brutaka chuckled as Helryx fumed beside him, suffice to say her age was an extremely sensitive s

Quake hated messenger runs. Watcher and Drop-stop were practically built for this kind of para, why the karzahni was she doing this?! The disguised ga-matoran ducked between another pair of legs, feeling the rising urge to fire a freeze disk and trap the steltian bruiser above her in a block of ice. But in there lay the main reason she hated carrying messages for Shockarat, he always demanded total secrecy and stealth. And it was killing her. Finally, she saw the markings she was looking for at the mouth of an alley and she made for it. She had to spin on her heel to avoid a stumbling agori drunk, but she was soon inside the alley, then wal