November 2017
Midnight Writers
Table of Contents
Cover: “Drinking the Blood of My Enemies,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
“Kill Me,” a story by Stella “Sloth,” an illustration by Shadow
11: This Page: “Send Noods,” an illustration by Celia Page “Kill Me,” continued Bowen
Page 3:
Ask Aphro & Dite
• Someone asks for help on surviving Thankgiving with their stepdad • Someone asks for help on how to cook a turkey
Unmasked Lady
• The Masked Lady talks about who she thankful for
Incandescence Literary Investigation
“The Monastery,” a story by Andromeda “Swift,” an illustration by Celia Bowen
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“Innocence,” an illustration by Teressa “White Innocence,” a story by HMscorpio “Black Innocence,” a story by The Masked Lady
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“Warmth,” a manga by Aya Hatashima • Incandescence reviews the book, Around the World in 80 “Apricity,” a poem by Andromeda Days by Jules Verne “Apricity,” an illustration by Andromeda
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“Lucifer’s Fall,” a story by Incadencence “You,” a poem by Lucifer “Falling Angel,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
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“A Game Once Played,” a story by Eos “My Ghosts,” an illustration by Dragonryder
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“Adam and Mike Get Drunk,” a story by Incadencence “Endless,” an photograph by The Calico Cat “Boardwalk,” a photograph by Lucifer “Cheers!” a photograph by Canada
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“Even After,” a story by Blue Serendipity “Life and Death,” an illustration by Dragonryder
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“Even After,” continued “Hufflepuffs Chapter 2,” a story by Eos “Sssssnake,” an illustration by Dragonryder “Hope,” a photograph by The Calico Cat
Page 9: “The 7 Deadly Sins,” illustrations by The Masked Lady
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“My November,” a poem by Eos “Toasty,” a poem by HMscorpio “Keep the Cold Out,” a photograph by Wilted Rose “The Bed,” a poem by Lucifer “My One True Love,” an illustration by Dragonryder
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“Santa, Not Satan Part 2,” a story by Incadescence
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“Santa, Not Satan Part 2,” continued “Satan’s Second Gift,” an illustration by The Masked Lady
issuu.com/midnightwriters midnightwriters2018@gmail.com
Ask Aphro & Dite
Dear Aphro, Help! I have to spend Thanksgiving with my evil stepdad! What should I do? Yours, Scared of Stepdad Dear Scared of Stepdad, Really, the best advice I can give you is to make the most of it. If you know what is going to intimidate him don’t do it. I also suggest that if there are other family members or friends, focus on them. Try to keep your distance from your stepdad as much as possible. If he is giving you a hard time, ignore him. You shouldn’t let your stepdad ruin the great Thanksgiving you have in store. With love, Aphro Dear Dite, I don’t know how to cook a Turkey. What should I do? Yours, Confused Turkey Dear Confused Turkey, Two words: The Internet, and also butterball.com. They have great resources on how to cook a turkey. If that doesn’t work, I am sure you can find someone around you who knows how to cook a turkey properly. I bet they’ll be happy to help. With love, Dite
Unmasked Lady
Hello Midnight Writers! I hope you all had an awesomely awesome Thanksgiving! And that most of you managed to survive Black Friday unscarred and with discounted merchandise. Since Thanksgiving is all about being thankful, I feel like I should give my special thanks to certain people. But sadly, I dont have enough space to discuss everyone. So we are going to talk about our lovely vice president, Incandescence. Now, Incandescence here has been my friend since 6th grade. We met on orientation day during gym. Back then, I was very shy and was not planning on making new friends. I just had moved from across the country to a new place where people already found their group. Then bam all of the sudden there she was, sitting next to me on the bleachers. At first I did not notice her until she said hi to me. Originally, I thought, this girl seemed nice, but I do not think I’ll ever talk to her again. But! I was so wrong! We continued talking to each other for the rest of the year, even up to this day. Now, Incandescence earns her BFF badge for many reasons. She was always there for me, even during depressing times. And she helped me with my role in Midnight Writers. Now, Midnight Writers, here’s a little secret. Originally, I was not going to join Midnight Writers. Gasp! I know right? How can this be? Well, here’s the thing. Back then my drawing skills were at the bottom of the barrel. So I said, “I’m not good enough, and I can’t write.” So, I was going to move on, until Incandescence firmly said, “No! You have to sign up!” And I was pretty sure this club was not for me, but then I decided to give it a shot. And now, I’m the president of the club. So thank you Incandescence for believing in me! And I can’t forget our lovely officers too! Celia Bowen, Andromeda, Eos, and HMscorpio - you all are awesome! And that’s it for this month’s column. See you all next month!
Incandescence’s Literary Investigations Hello, and welcome to my second book review! Today, I’ll be reviewing Around the World in 80 Days by Jules Verne. Verne was a French writer who is also known for his novels 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and Journey to the Center of the Earth. Around the World in 80 Days is a story detailing a bet Mr. Phileas Fogg made to his friends at the Reform Club. The wager was £20,000 (the approximate equivalent of £2 million in 2016, or $2,667,100 in Freedom Dollars). The bet, as you probably guessed it, was whether or not he would be able to travel around the world in 80 days or less. The very day that Mr. Fogg decides to embark on this journey is the first day on the job for his servant, Jean Passepartout. The day he departs, however, is the day of a big bank robbery. Finding the date of his departure to be a little too coincidental, and under a possible guise of a silly bet, a Scotland Yard inspector, one Detective Fix, is dispatched to tail him. Mr. Fogg leaves London by train at 8:45 P.M. on Wednesday, October 2, 1872, and is due back at the Reform Club at the same time 80 days later, Saturday, December 21, 1872. One of the first major developments in the journey is that Passepartout had accidentally left his gas stove on, which is something that he was devastated by. Along the way, they travel on boat, steamship, train, car, and even elephant. In India, Mr. Fogg and Passepartout come across a woman who is to be burned on a pyre due to a horrifying tradition of having Indian widows killed after her husband’s death. This beautiful young woman, Aouda, is rescued by our duo just in time, and taken along with in their trek. And with that, I shall leave you until next month. Read on!
Special thanks to Sra. Steele, The Masked Lady, Incadencence, HMscorpio, Eos, Celia Bowen, Andromeda, and Lucifer
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Lucifer’s Fall By Incadencence
I didn’t mean to fall. Really. The almighty ruler himself had proclaimed that I was evil, that I must be casted out for arrogance, for no longer being content with being his servant. Instead, they said, I tried to be him. Many didn’t seem to realize what he had become. Since the beginning of time, he had existed. I was his most faithful follower, his most trusted confident. He built the heavens, and the Earth, and so many more incredible things. Including the Creation he took the most pride in: Mankind. He was, at one point, the best. He genuinely cared. But now, I could see the poison coursing through his veins. I looked down at Man and I saw evil. Cheating, lying, stealing, corruption, betrayal, murder, rape. These were all things that Mankind had brought upon God’s earth. I tried to tell him that Man must be exterminated. Every single time, He would refuse, saying “That’s not true about all of them.” Then what? How long would this licentiousness go further
before action must be taken? Better to purge them all! Some of my brethren agreed. But when I stood in front and spoke my true ideas to better everyone, I was betrayed. No one stood by my side. That day, I learned that Angels were no better than those disgusting vermin of Mankind. With his denouncement, I was cast out. A millenia of loyalty meant nothing. He was just as foul as his precious creations. They tore off my wings. They shackled my hands. Dragging me to the edge, they pushed. I fell, tumbling wildly through the air. Where my wings once were ached. My body burned. My heart tore itself into pieces. But I would be too powerful to keep down for long. Before I had even reached the ground, I had made up my mind to do what was right and to get rid of the corrupt, greedy ruler of the Heavens. New, raven black wings sprouted. I landed gracefully upon the mortal plane in a crouch, my wings shielding me from the wind. My wings snapped out, my eyes burning a blood red. I would be back.
You
By Lucifer The funeral in my brain, Isn’t permitted to exist. School, Money, Race, Country… Status breeds silent bells. Slaps on wrists, Looks of death. I thought my mindset was mine, But my mind belongs to you, My body exists for you. And the deity of, The funeral in my brain, Was, is, will always be because of… You.
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“Falling Angel,” Illustration by The Masked Lady
A Game Once Played By Eos
My father always said that in the game of checkers, you must know when to surrender. He would say this over and over as I sat in front of the fireplace deliberating my next move as the clock ticked. “Lizzie, it’s time to give me a chance. There’s a difference between giving up and knowing when you have had enough.” So I had enough. Every single round. However, this was over 200 years ago, and I’m pretty sure checkers has changed quite a lot since then. If my father were to see me now, he would have been ashamed, I’m sure. Haunting this house for the past decades, watching the game play on as I eternally ponder my next move. The current residents of the house are just like the ones from years before except possessing newer, shinier things. That’s the funny thing. Technology advances, but the game doesn’t. Though life (or after-life I suppose) is not all bad here. When the residents go to sleep, I sneak a bag of Doritos from their pantry up to the attic that is my make-shift home. Even 1700s era ghosts have Dorito cravings. I found a dusty television set, so sometimes I watch some of that. Tonight I’m eating Doritos and watching news I’ve heard before when I suddenly notice a ten-year old girl sitting on the burnt-orange sofa behind the television. I squint, then realize that ten-year old girl is me. I sigh. I, being a ghost myself, am not really scared, just annoyed because the ten-year old ghost interrupted my junk-food/depressing television binge. “Yes?” I say, “What do you want?” Ten-year old me gets up from the sofa in what I assume is an attempt at an authoritative move. She says with little emotion, “The game must come to an end now. You´ve been haunting this house for too long.” That does scare me. It can’t end - I haven’t made a move yet; At least not one that would make my father proud. I need to finish it. But on my own terms. I realize I’ve been twisting the empty Dorito bag into a knot, and ten-year old me is watch-
ing. I slowly release my grip and say, “Why now? Are you the commander of the dead or something?” Ten-year old me rolls her eyes, then says, “Ha. Funny, But no. I was sent here now because this game has gone on too long. You...you haven’t made a move in decades. I know it’s hard because Dad-” I tune out the rest. I know it’s hard. Even if it’s a younger me saying it, those words still make me nauseous, cutting deeper than any knife. The yellow fever outbreak in 1793. Me laying on the hard bed that I would never leave. My father playing checkers with me everyday. Toward the end: It’s okay to know when you had enough, Lizzie. It’s okay. So, for the last time, I had enough. I never finished the game. And here I am still deliberating a final move, haunting this house, for what purpose? I don’t know. Maybe to live in a passing image of my life, a game that ended years ago. Anyway, I’m still
playing. I look over at ten-year old me. She’s preoccupied, watching Seinfeld on the television. “Fine,” I say to the girl, “I’m done.” She gets up and looks at me incredulously. “I didn’t expect you to surrender so easily,” she says. I get up and pull the old, dusty checkerboard out from under the orange sofa. Some cobwebs are covering its surface, and I blow those off. “I’m not surrendering,” I say, “I’m just letting go.” I place the checkerboard in front of me. My final move. Don’t think. In one move, I pick up the checkerboard and hurl it out the attic window. Glass breaks on the sidewalk. Ten-year old me is saying something behind me, but I can’t hear her. It doesn’t matter. I don’t know where I’m going. It doesn’t matter. When I leave, an empty bag of Doritos will remain on the burnt orange sofa, just a passing image of a game once played.
by Dragonryder “My Ghosts,” Illustration by Dragonryder 5
“Endless,” Photograph by The Calico Cat
Adam and Mike Get Drunk By Incadencence
“No way.” “I swear on my Swan Crystal, I’m telling the truth!” Adam and Mike were in their favorite tavern, the Ugly Duckling. The Ugly Duckling was a popular place for one simple reason: it was built for larger cliente. Adam, a Chinese Water Dragon, and Mike, a centaur, often had trouble fitting in places - physically, that is. Although Adam could shrink down his size slightly, he was still too big to go anywhere else to get drunk. The owner of the bar, Po, knew very well the plight of creatures like Adam and Mike, and large creatures who couldn’t find a place to get drunk and party easily did not bode well for the good of society. Mike reached for the bottle to pour them another round of Bane. “But, really? A human?” Adam snorted in annoyance, spraying a fine mist over Mike. “Yes, I’m serious! Do you want me to swear on my Everglass too? I swear on both my Swan Crystal and my Everglass that I did, in fact, see a human.” Mike rolled his eyes. “You can be such a drama king sometimes. I’m not calling you a liar, but sometimes you do tend to exaggerate. Like that time you supposedly got drunk at Alfie’s and then ended up passing out in an entirely different country. While hugging the Enchanted Branch of Nantes.” “Hey, man, we agreed not to talk about that. It really was an accident! But forreals, bro. You gotta believe me.” Adam leaned in close. “He was wandering out in the Groves of Garcia. I think he was drunk.” Mike considered. As a dragon, for Adam to swear upon his two most prized possessions was serious business. “Okay then. I believe you. So there was a random human somewhere near here. That’s not good.” Mike downed his drink in one gulp. Adam nodded, agreeing. Everyone knew that humans were bad news. Wherever they went, they spread disaster to whomever they touched. The two friends sat in a rare moment of silence, concern written upon their faces. “Cheers!” Photograph by Canada Then it was over. Mike flicked his head rapidly, trying to get rid of the bad memories. “Let’s tell Maria in the morning, yeah? She and Izzy will take care of it. But the human’s probably dead by now. I doubt he’d make it out of the Groves alive.” “True,” Adam said. “We’re way too sober for this. I’ll get us another round.” Mike punched Adam gently. “You’re the best. Let’s go for a Moscow Mule; haven’t gotten that in a while.” Adam nodded, getting up. The tavern door screeched open. Everyone’s heads turned. Silence reigned. It was the human, a cocky smile stretched across his face. Mike’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no.” Everyone was thinking the same thing.
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“Boardwalk,” a photograph by Lucifer
Even After
By Blue Serendipity If someone asked Arlo seven years ago whether or not he still cursed the world for his car breaking down early in the morning, he would’ve said yes. Any later, and he would’ve said no. It was funny how someone so ordinary could catch his interest. Everyday, since they met he started taking the subway to work. It was inconvenient and definitely caused him to catch a couple of colds but he didn’t mind. As he sat in a seat he pulled the navy blue jacket closer around him. It was a birthday present from his boyfriend. It was strange referring to Vince as his boyfriend. When he reached his stop, he made his way towards a boba tea place. “How are you?” Jaimie asked, handing him his usual lychee boba tea. He hated the taste of it but it was Vince’s favorite. “I’m fine,” he answered looking at the picture of Vince on the wall. “How are you?” “Busy,” said Jaimie plainly as she gestured to the long line behind him. Arlo nodded and moved to a table under Vince’s picture which, because Jamie was his sister, was always there. Vince was always this beautiful creature in Arlo’s eyes. He was shorter than him and had dark brown hair. His hazel eyes sparkled and his kind, goofy smile seemed to outshine the sun. Even in photos, he reeked of charisma. After finishing his tea, he usually would get up and make his way to work. Today, however, he decided to take a detour through the park. “I wonder what he’s doing right now,” mumbled Arlo, taking out his phone and sending Vince a quick text. As Arlo
closed his phone, he smiled at his background, a photo of Vince. Taking in a deep breath, he realized this was where he first told Vince he loved him. Vince had been scared and self-concious because of all the glares and comments they were getting. He had wanted Arlo to let go of his hand, but Arlo had blatantly refused and the words just slipped out. Vince was always self-conscious. He was always worried about what other people thought about him and strived to make everyone happy, usually at the expense of his own. It was what got Arlo to notice him in the first place. A man had been telling Vince to stop being so gay, which irked Arlo. There was nothing wrong about homosexuality. Arlo defended him, which led to the younger boy sticking around him. He was definitely annoying at first, as their personalities clashed. Vince was hyper and always laughing and looking for adventure. Arlo however, enjoyed keeping to himself. Late at night after work, Alro had dinner at an old retro diner. It was the place he and Vince had their first date. It wasn’t a planned date either. Vince had recognized Arlo and sat down in front of him smiling happily like he had met a childhood friend. Arlo however, was not as happy to see him. Later on, much to Arlo’s dismay, Vince declared the dinner a date and was adamant on having another dinner date with him. As Arlo reminisced, a friend decided to join him for dinner. “Don’t you get lonely by yourself?” Lea asked quietly as she picked at her food. “Not really. I’ve grown used to it,” said Alro. They spend the rest of the evening making
small talk, never going into deeper topics they were going to have to address later. The first time he had met her was at the hospital. Arlo had never met someone as strong willed as Lea. When he started yelling at the doctors Lea had stepped in and put him in his place. “I have to talk to him!” Arlo shouted, trying to get past the doctors. “You have to wait until he is stable enough,” said a doctor worriedly. Lea then stood in front of the doctors. “Go sit down,” said Lea sternly. Alro shook his head. “My boyfriend is in there,” he said frantically. “So is my sister and my brother. You have to let the doctors do their work!” Lea yelled pushing Arlo back two steps. Arlo wanted to fight back, but he realized that she
was right. He had to trust the fact that Vince was alright and he would be back in his arms again. When the door Arlo had been trying so hard to get past opened, Lea clutched his hand in a desperate hope. Just like the piles of clothes in Arlo’s closet, the hundreds of unread text messages, and the heartbroken sister, Arlo was left behind that day. He had believed that Vince would be fine. Vince had told him that he was eating at a burger place after the concert since it was nearby. No one expected thirteen people would be shot and killed. No one could expect Vince, out of all the people in the world, to be among the thirteen. It was terrifying and painful to learn that even after all the promises Arlo and Vince made to each other, Arlo still couldn’t pro-
“Life and Death,” Illustration by Dragonryder 7
tect Vince. At least, not from everything. Just like Lea and Jaimie however, he learned to keep the happiest memories close to him. He was thankful to have spent seven long months with him, even if Arlo wasn’t the nicest person in the first two months. Vince was dead. He was gone from the world and there’s nothing Alro or anyone else in the world could do
Hufflepuffs Chapter 2 By Eos
When I was younger, before I was old enough to go to Hogwarts, I used to play with puzzles. Not magical puzzles that completed themselves, but real Muggle puzzles. I liked to put the pieces together myself. The feeling of puzzle pieces perfectly fitting together made me feel as if I at least had control over something in my life. After bumping into Alastor Malfoy, it felt like I was putting the pieces of the puzzle of my life together for the first time. And now, to see if the pieces fit, I just had to confirm my true House. I devised a plan in the time that I wasn’t paying attention during my
about it. The only thing Arlo could do is think of him and smile. He can only make sure the memory of him isn’t something for people to weep over and mourn. Instead of feeling hopeless at the thought of him, Arlo instead lets himself fill with warmth and love. After all, no one wants their boyfriend to cry when they’re gone. As Arlo and Lea parted ways, he smiled up at the night sky. “I wonder what he’s doing right now.” classes (which was the majority of the time). During dinner, I explained to my roommate, Mari, the general logistics of my plan, which I assured her was strange-sounding, but overall quite feasible and would (probably) cause minimal damage to the Hufflepuff reputation. Judging by her mildly horrified expression, she seemed to think it was unfeasible. She poked at her roast beef tepidly with a fork, and I waited. “Ginerva, I want to say this in a polite way.” She began to speak. “But. WHY OF ALL PEOPLE WOULD YOU GET HELP FROM ALASTOR MALFOY!??” “Um, well-” I started, somewhat shocked by her raising her voice above her usual hard-to-hear whisper, but she continued. “Firstly, he’s a douche. Sec-
“Sssssnake,” an illustration by Dragonryder
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“Hope,” Photograph by The Calico Cat
ondly, you just talked to him yesterday, and now you want him to help you see if you’re not really a Hufflepuff for no reason except to explain why you feel ‘different’?? Ginerva, the Sorting Hat would’ve put you in another house if you weren’t meant to be a Hufflepuff.” She was sensibly right of course, except for one detail that I wouldn’t, couldn’t, tell anyone that weighed me down like a statue spell. Last year’s Magickal Ball. Rain, although by the end of the night I couldnt be sure if it was rain or blood. An umbrella, a simple Muggle object shoved into my hands by someone with white, white hair and green eyes, piercing into mine. “You can’t go back, stupid girl…” I quickly realized I’d become immersed in the past again, so I snapped back to the present like I’ve done so many times before. Mari waved a much-needed hand in front of my face. “Ginerva, are you alright?” She asked, her concerned face staring back at me, pulling me out of the memories of the pouring rain of my mind, “I didn’t mean to sound harsh, but do you get what I mean?”
I did. The Sorting Hat would have put me in another house if I wasn’t meant to be a Hufflepuff. But. The Sorting Hat didn’t know the Ginerva Kartway that ran in the pouring rain on the night of the Magickal Ball. The one that got her dress soaked in the rain, but at that point I didn’t even care. The one that saw things that night that have made her question everything since. Only one other person knew that Ginerva Kartway, and was probably struggling with his own version of Alastor Malfoy from that night. I looked up at Mari again, having no idea whatsoever on how to proceed but a strong feeling of intuition. I thanked her for the advice and ran to the Slytherin dormitory, ignoring occasional stares. As I ran, one thing I remembered from that night coursed through my mind: “The future is forever ours…”
The Seven Deadly Sins
By The Masked Lady
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Kill Me By Stella
A soft meowing in the distance caught my attention. In a dark, stormy night like this one, no one should have been outside in the rain. Except for her. A little girl, dark as night, standing among the shadows, the ghostly cat in her arms. Her bright yellow eyes glowed like a neon highlighter. “Who are you?” I asked, careful to avoid looking into her eyes. A distorted giggle escaped her lips. “Oh? You don’t remember? I am Envy.” She stepped out of the shadows, stroking the back of the small creature. “Remember her? Your precious girlfriend’s cat. Don’t pretend that you didn’t want the little kitty, don’t lie and say that you didn’t date her just for this little creature.” I blinked and looked up again. Behind me? I whirled around. The little girl was gone, the brightly lit London streets reflected rain water on the colorful bricks. There was no sign of her existence. I turned around again, face to face with a blonde woman in red. “Don’t I remind you of her? Lust is my name, but you already knew that.” “Why are you here?” I asked, glaring at the soulless woman in front of me. She laughed a twisted laugh, putting her arms around me. “You’re the one who stole her away from that charming first boyfriend who would have treated her right. Tell me, was it her pretty hair or the fact that she looked so desirable in red?” “Get away from me!” I pushed her off, and ran. I could hear her echoing laugh behind me as I turned a corner far from the flickering streetlights. I made it to a dimly lit street, tall apartments lined on the sides of the dusty, black asphalt. A man carrying a briefcase passed me as I walked down the sketchy street. “Not even going to say hello? How rude.” I turned around as fast as lightning. “Of course you wouldn’t, I expect nothing less. I am Greed, as you know.” The man straightened his tie. “You’re not carrying any money. Have you finally come to your senses?” I backed away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh?” He unlocked the shadowy briefcase and flung it at me. “Do not deny that your love for money was what drove
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her away. You know it well yourself. You loved money more than anything, even her. Look where that got you.” Piles of money flew out. Bills fluttered down, coins hit the ground in a rhythmic beat. “You want it, don’t you? So much that you’d sacrifice her.” I covered my ears and ran far away from him. Soon, I stopped in front of a tall apartment, out of breath from running. A series of coughs erupted from behind me. “Hello old friend,” a boy with a black cap said, waving. “Remember me? Sloth! We were best friends, before she came into the picture. No more video games, no more distractions, not even homework! It was just you and her in your world!” He approached me, holding out his hand. “We can be like that again. No, we are like that. Why did she leave you? Take a guess! You already know, don’t you? Because in reality, you’re just a lazy, good-for-nothing slob!” “I did things, I had a life!” I cried. I pushed the door of the apartment building and ran right into a girl with sunglasses rested on her head. She snarled at me, raising her chin high in the air. “Watch where you’re going, loser!” Her expression changed from hatred to amusement as she realized who I was. “Ha! If it isn’t you! Wrath’s my name, if you need a reintroduction.” She stepped up to my face and jabbed a finger in my direction. I reached for the elevator buttons and frantically pushed down on the “up” button. “Going to say something about how you miss her, oh so much? Don’t lie. You wanted him out of the way just so you could have her.” She laughed. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You pushed him down those stairs! And what? You’re going to play innocent like you never had an ounce of hatred in you? You make me laugh.” Just then the elevator doors opened and I bolted inside. I slammed the buttons, trying to close the doors as quickly as possible. She laughed and approached me, her eyes flashing with ire and amusement. The elevator doors closed and I sighed. Safe at last? No. A crunch came from the floor of the elevator. I looked down and came face to face with a little boy eating fried chicken. “Yes?” He asked with annoyance. “Going to say something, even though you know full well you’re the same?” He finished off a piece and looked up, wiping his oil
stained hands on his shorts. “Gluttony. Not pleased to reintroduce myself to your ugly self. What is it? You’ve come back to your addictions? After she tried so hard to get you to stop. You stole her money, her love, and everything she was! What a disgrace.” I flattened myself on the elevator doors and looked away from his wispy eyes. “I wasn’t…” He scoffed. “Denying it again? She left you because of that. Or do you want another reminder?” The doors to the elevator opened and I ran out, leaving him behind. I charged towards the first door I saw, and reached for a key in my pocket. Jamming it into the keyhole, I twisted the knob until it opened and I rushed inside. It was dark but a shadowy figure stood in front of me. I stood in front of myself. “Pride…” I growled through gritted teeth. “You’re the last one.” He stepped out into the lighter area and smiled disturbingly. He laughed. “You wouldn’t acknowledge anyone else, and yet you acknowledge me? I’m flattered.” He leaned in close to my face. “After all, I am you. Your pride is the reason why she isn’t here anymore, you know? Just accept it.” “I am not you! I am nothing like you and the others!” I screamed. Visions
“Sloth,” Illustration by Shadow
flashed in front of my eyes and it felt like a thousand knives driving into me. “Oh, but you are…” he whispered into my ear. “You stole Vivian’s life from her.”
I closed my eyes and let darkness envelop me. The lights flickered on and I opened my eyes. The dead body of my girlfriend laid
in front of me. A knife sparkled on the ground next to her. I looked up. Blood stained my hands.
The Monastery
dows, Isabella was already up and wandering through the libraries. With a broom in one hand she carefully swept along the alcoves. For the most part, this area of the chapel was empty; save a few stray mice which scurried in and out of holes in the walls. As Isabella swept the wooden floor she peered at the books resting on the stands. She had read almost all the books in the room. Everything from the Confessions of Saint Augustine to Dante’s Inferno. Suddenly, a large book slipped out of one of the wracks, near where Isabella was sweeping. Startled, she jumped back and peered at the book. It was one she had never seen before. It was titled Septem Mortalibus Peccatis. The Seven Deadly Sins. Curious, she slowly picked it up. Her hand swept over the intricate cover page, a deep ominous feeling seemed to emanate from the book like a thick cloud. Ignoring the feeling as part of her imagination, she carefully opened to the first page. It was blank. “What the-” Then the room began to sway, black dots clouded her vision, and everything went black. She woke up with a groan. Around the room, hundreds of books were scattered everywhere. Pens and papers had been knocked over, chairs on their sides. Isabella stared wide eyed at the carnage. But she was unable to ponder it for long because suddenly, there was this burning smell, and the subtle sound of something-sizzling?? Quick, searing pain flooded Isabella near her chest, with a cry she ripped her cross from her neck and threw it to the side. With an abrupt thud the wooden doors to the library swung open. Sister Clemence along with a few other nuns promptly entered the room. Her hawk eyes peered dangerously around the mess and havoc that was once her clean library. “Sister Isabella, what is the meaning of this?!” Her gaze fixed on the poor girl, eyes blazing, voice practically growling. “I don’t know, there was this book- and it just fell out and, and--”
“What? Make sense, girl!” Sister Clemence interrupted. Isabella just stared at her hopelessly. Sister Clemence crossed her arms and she let out a heavy sigh. “Never mind just make sure you make everything spotless in the next hour.” Normally, Isabella would quickly and obediently agree with Sister, but this time something was different. Her heart rate sped up and her breathing increased drastically; she was fuming. Why did she have to clean this mess? It wasn’t her fault! And before she could think it through she found her mouth hissing, “Why should I, you old crone?” Sister Clemence balked at her, her beady eyes seemed to pop out of her head, and her face turned a terrible shade of red. “Exscuse me?? Why you insolent little-” Just as she was about to finish her sentence, her stare dropped to the book lying beside Isabella. The one Isabella had opened earlier. Sister Clemence’s face turned pale, her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ shape. “Dear God, save this child.” Stalking over to Isabella, Sister seized her wrist in her hand. “What- what are you doing? NO!” Cried Isabella. “Quiet, girl! Do you know what you’ve done?” Sister Clemence replied shakily. “I don’t care, let me GO!” Sister Clemence was suddenly thrown across the room. Her head hit hard against the wall. Breathing heavily Isabella glared at the other nuns that looked at her terrified. Swiftly, she turned her heel and ran.
By Andromeda
“Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo. Amen.” Isabella rose from her kneeling position on the ground, clutching her prayer beads, and careful of her long, woolen skirts. She swept her headdress behind her head and walked down the red, silk carpet leading away from the altar. Above her stood the hulking figure of Sister Clemence. Sharp eyes like a hawk peered over layers of wrinkled skin, mouth downturned into a permanent, hard scowl. “It’s time to retire to your quarters.” “As you please, Sister.” Isabella opened the small wooden door leading into her room. It was tight but accommodating, with a modest wooden bed in the corner, set beside an oil lamp on the bedside. On the other side of the chamber, was a table with a worn leather bible and several religious figures resting beside it. The room was spotless (for cleanliness was akin to godliness). Hours had been spent here reading and interpreting God’s word, dusks had faded into dawns with her still sitting in her chair, eyes fixated to her bible. Of all the other members within the monastery, it was likely that Isabella was the most diligent; a fact she would admittedly take pride in were it not a sin. When she was not reading, she was doing chores, or sewing, something she was also very skillful at. It was not uncommon for her to completely redo a garment even if a single thread was out of place. Isabella sighed when she entered and placed her heavy wooden headdress on the bedstand. Pulling out the chair from beneath her desk, she sat down. Peering down, above her, was a large wooden crucifix. Jesus impaled upon the wooden cross was hung in a permanently grotesque manner, muscles straining against bloody nails, mouth drawn in a painful grimace. It had been a gift for her 18th birthday. Head bowed, she began studying for the night. At dawn, when morning light barely began to creep through the chapel win-
“Swift,” Illustration By Celia Bowen 11
“Innocence,” Illustration by Teressa
White Innocence By HMscorpio
I was always kind of innocent. My parents wouldn’t let me go outside to see the world around me. So, I was trapped in my house all alone except for my parents. I turned eighteen. My parents finally let me see the world. I flung the doors open. My utter excitement became sheer disappointment. All I saw was white, WHITE, yes, you heard that right, white. I didn’t believe it, but my ambition got the best of me. I stepped. I stepped some more. I skipped. Now I was running in a blanket of white. I ran. I ran so much. But it was just as much as several yards, that my dad called me back. The adventure and disappointment was over. It was now time to go back and live my eternity inside my house. Never seeing the disappointing world again. My parents were right. The outside world is too good to be true.
12
Black Innocence
By The Masked Lady
I’m the devil disguised as an angel. Everyone loves my sweet, innocent personality. But trust me, it’s all a ruse. I might seem to care about you. But, darling, I wouldn’t even blink if I had the chance to put you down. I will laugh at your stupid jokes and follow you around like a sad puppy. Because I know that’s what it takes to trap you in my tangled web. Everyone talks about me. How I’m the most innocent person in the world. My pure white dress and lush blond hair. It’s all a disguise hiding your true nightmare. I continue playing this game of ours. Me acting like the goody two-shoes so you will give up your king. But once I succeed, the mask will come off. Your dreams of us will shatter like glass. While you try to collect all the pieces, I will have already moved on. Trying to find my next pawn to play.
“Warmth,” Manga by Aya Hatashima (Read from right to left)
Apricity
hands
Ours eyes never stray
One day One night A soul is born with a spark Set ablaze, a beacon of light
So we tuck it away In our little candle jars Trapped to burn forever contained Hunting freedom elsewhere
We are forever children Clinging onto that incessant warmth Fading further,
By Andromeda
Warming, bitterest winter months Soothing, aching limbs Thawing, chilling bones And hushing, sullen cries With its brilliant beams Little hands weave vivid dreams Inspiring, gleeful smiles And creating wondrous things It shines so bright Even our shadows catch its light That attracts moths and parasites Prying eyes and thieving
We sit, Rocking restlessly in the loneliness Pondering the vibrant light at the end of the sea, That seeks rapture on the abandoned shore
Further, Into our remembered past.
“Apricity,” Illustration by Andromeda
So such is time That day by night The candle continues to burn The world continues to turn Even as the sun slumps gracefully Behind the steady horizon As the moon rises to greet its stars
13
My November By Eos
An offering of pumpkin pie A round of video games with my siblings in which I always lose but don’t really care Watching/silently judging the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade Drinking coffee at nightime to prepare for Black Friday Dressing my (extremely reluctant) cat up as a turkey Regretting dressing my cat up as a turkey Taking in the perfect chill of the fall air before the winter comes Stepping on fallen leaves just for fun Finally acknowledging my thankfulness for my family and friends This is my November.
Toasty
By HMscorpio Toasty, it feels good. Makes me have a pleasant dream. That’s how toasty feels “My One True Love,” Illustration by Dragonryder
“Keep the Cold Out,” Photograph by Wilted Rose
The Bed
By Lucifer I love you. I’m glad you exist. I curl up on the bed And bring the pillow up to my face. The weight of the blankets ensures safety Causing my eyes to close involuntarily. The next time they open, The sun will have risen. I’ll curl up even more, And wish the world away. The sun hurts my eyes and life hurts my soul. But at least I know you’ll be there for me I love you. I’m glad you exist.
14
Santa, Not Satan Part 2
By Incadescence Ulhua may not have been on Earth for long, but she knew that there was a special Earthen custom happening. She intended on staying for the entire duration and observing. Ulhua was a foreign exchange student. Really foreign. So foreign, in fact, that she was not even from this planet! She hailed from the Oecury planet, of the Messier 601 galaxy. To some, the difference between the Oecury and Earth may have been drastic, but according to the Federation of Galaxian Federations, these two were the closest in similarities. This Federation, was of course, the widely accepted council that helped with diplomatic situations. Although Arion 5 of the Messier 81 Galaxy was more similar to Earth in terms of climate, the atmosphere on Arion 5 was acidic to Human skin. Besides, Earth and Arion 5 had not the smoothest of relations, ever since the Earthen President of Espen had stepped off of his spacecraft and promptly melted. His remains, which looked suspiciously like melted cheetos in cheap polyester fabric, made headlines all around. But I digress. Ulhua’s golden skin and golden hair and golden nails may not have made her the most inconspicuous of guests, but Ulhua found Humans to be intrigued by her perceived foreignness. They were curious little things, always staring and prodding. But most were friendly, especially her host family. But besides the distinction of skin tone, Oecurians and Humans had a similar body structure. It was stardate 2259.55.
Ulhua had been on Earth for three Earthen cycles. Humans were a rather peculiar species. Some liked to come very close to death by voluntarily jumping out of their hovercrafts, with only a sheet strapped to their backs. Many had a tendency to form emotional attachments to various objects, such as, but not limited to: rocks, vehicles, and predators of canis lupus descent. According to her host sibling, Karen, Humans of 8 Earthen orbits or less had a disposition of having the 32 white crunching tools below the maxilla and above the mandible fall out for no reason whatsoever. Then, more crunching tools would sprout back in place, but these were stronger. Ulhua was 42.7% sure that Karen was trying to pull what Humans called a “prank” on her. The two strangest things about Human customs were as follows: Humans believed in an omniscient being that lived in the sky and thus worshipped it for good fortune, and Humans had a tradition called “Thanksgiving.” Thanksgiving had apparently come about in the stardate 1639.20, when Humans had moved from one place to another on Earth. Ulhua didn’t know of a single other species that held a celebration of something that would lead the decimation and killing of many other Humans that were somehow “different.” In answer to Ulhua’s askance, her host father, Terry, used his hand to pat her on the shoulder and said, “It’s for giving thanks.” This was brand new information, as Ulhua had definitely not worked that out from the custom’s name. So far, Ulhua had observed a 67% increase of Humans
in the Whole Foods, which held long rows of consumable items. There seemed to be a particular frenzy around something called a “turkey.” Of dinosaur descent, a turkey was an avian that possessed dark body feathers, reddish-yellow to grayish-green legs, and a large, featherless, reddish head. Ulhua did not “get,” as the Humans would say, why the turkey was so important. It was rather ugly and seemed to contain no attractive qualities whatsoever. The idea of consuming such a thing filled Ulhua with disgust. Still, she waited to see what Thanksgiving would be like. Thanksgiving had a big emphasis on connecting with the Human family, as evidenced by the chatter Ulhua had heard from her host family and the 13 different commercials she had seen on their holovision. The preparation of the turkey and other dishes was one of the most crucial parts of this Thanksgiving. Tiffany, Ulhua’s host mother, had explained to her that everyone was expected to “help out” in the kitchen, in which Humans assembled their meals. There was a box in which one could lock foods in to make it vibrate at a specific frequency to make it suitable for the Human palate. This act of “heating up” foods made Ulhua eager to “help out;” she wanted to operate the machine. Then, Ulhua came up with an even better idea. To improve this Thanksgiving, as Ulhua was indeed very thankful to her host family for caring for her during the duration of her stay, Ulhua would make a bigger, better turkey. Seeing as there was supposedly a presence in the sky that people prayed to when they needed something, it seemed that her host family had already done that. But,
the results were lacking. So, it only made sense that there was something underneath them that could be prayed to for a superior Thanksgiving. When Ulhua inquired about what being was below, Karen had just giggled and looked away. Ulhua never did get an answer. Through her own thorugh investigation and the help of a voice called Siri, she learned that the being below was called Satan. He was often depicted as having bright red skin, a pitchfork, and a pointed tail. Siri had even very kindly given her the proper instructions on how to summon Satan. So, while her host family exited their abode so they could go to somewhere called “Pizza Hut” to consume food, Ulhua feigned sickness and stayed behind. Then, she took her transportation card and walked the 16.2 Corsairs to the nearest hoverbus stop. There, she hopped on the vehicle to the Costco. Siri had assured her that the Costco sold almost everything anyone would ever need, including discounted coffins. Coming back with her supplies, Ulhua observed several strange looks from the other passengers. These Humans, of course, had only summoned the figure above. She was going to find the one below - clearly a new idea. When Ulhua finally got home, she consulted Siri again to make sure her ingredients were correct, then put the candles in the correct positions. In the center of the group of candles, she put in the bowl with the mixture of diet coke, thyme, bleach, and saliva. Then, she dropped the goat head right in the middle of the
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bowl, and sat back, satisfied. Once the candles were lit, she commanded the room lights to 5% and sat cross legged beside her pentagon. Repeating after Siri, she chanted, “Ad ligandum eos pariter eos coram me.” A swoosh of air blew the candles out; a steady hum seemed to be coming from the pentagon. Several minutes later, a figure appeared. “Who dares to summon me?” The figure cloaked in black demanded. Ulhua stared at him. He stared back. After exactly 2 minutes and 23 seconds by Ulhua’s count, the demon blinked. “Dang it! I can’t believe I lost the staring contest!” The lights were restored; Ulhua could see that the figure was not someone with a pitchfork and red skin, but a Human looking boy, perhaps 14 Earthen cycles old. Ulhua straightened into a standing position in one swift move. From this position, she towered over him. The demon seemed to look at her in awe. “Hey, uh, I’m Patch. Well, it’s not actually, but, uh, that’s what they’ve called me ever since, I - long story, we don’t need to get into it, but just know that it involved Mentos, a tractor, and a pissed off koala. Wow, I can’t seem, to shut up. You’re really hot - I mean golden. Like...bricks of gold. Sorry, I’m not usually like this but you’re really - wow. You come here often?” Ulhua stared at him. Curiously enough, the skin above his zygomatic bone seemed to be heating up, much like the machine in the kitchen. “No, I do not come here often,” Ulhua stated. Patch rocked back and forth on his heels. “Uh, is there anything I can do for you? I mean, I’d do a lot for you.”
16
Ulhua nodded. “I am thankthe Humans scattered while this power stored as a kind of ful for my host family for the three-headed turkey ran venom in their fangs. caring for me. I desire to find into and broke more walls. There was now a 12 foot tall, a superior avian of the genus Tiffany grabbed Ulhua’s solid gold, three-headed turkey Meleagris. One that no Human arm. “What is that?” she in what was once the living has ever seen before.” shrieked. room. Patch rubbed his head. “Um, Ulhua looked at her in surUlhua slid down the turkey’s you mean turkey?” prise. “A superior turkey.” back and calmly came to a “Affirmative,” Ulhua stated. Tiffany’s brain connected stop. “Uh, like what kind of turthe dots quickly. “Sweetie,” Patches appeared. “Wow! key?” she said, bellowing to be heard Wasn’t that great? What about “I will leave that up to you,” above the mayhem, “This that number, eh?” Ulhua replied. turkey is not the turkey we Tiffany smacked him on the Patch thought deeply. If want for Thanksgiving. Right head, hard. he got her a really awesome now, it seems to be doing more Several Earthen cycles turkey, she would definitely harm than good.” later, it was time for Ulhua to be impressed, right? Then he Ulhua considered this. “Do go back to Oecury. Her host came up with a brilliant idea. you desire to be rid of it?” family had appreciated the Steve, his demon mentor, had “Yes!” Tiffany yelled, duck- sentiment, but told her maybe once told him that chicks dug ing to avoid a part of what was to not go that far. Ulhua nodpuppies. And well, Cerberus once part of the dining table. ded, inputting that information was a puppy, right? Moving incredibly fast, into her section of notes about He put his arms up in triUlhua grabbed the two carvHumans. umph. “I got it!” ing knives from the floor and However, they weren’t too Then, winking at Ulhua, advanced to where the turkey mad. The gold turkey was he swaggered back into the was. While it was distracted, enough for the family to live pentagon. “I’ll have your awe- she dug the knives into the off of for several lifetimes. some turkey ready and there at turkey and used it to climb up. Ulhua considered this a very Thanksgiving dinner.” Turning Then, she bit its throat. productive 7 Earthen cycles around to face her, he put on Something that many don’t indeed. She planned on comwhat he was sure his most know about Oecurians is ing back, for something called devastatingly attractive smile. that they are descendants of “Christmas,” to see what else “And maybe, then, you’ll reKing Midas, who was able to there was. ward me with your number?” turn anything into gold with (Poor Patches never did get Ulhua stared at him. Then, just one touch. Inevitably, that number.) she nodded. he turned food and water, A deal was made. and even his own daughter To Be Concluded... Come 2267.31, it was Huto gold. This was not good. man Thanksgiving. Her host King Midas managed to fix his family’s relatives were over, problem, and over time, his the dishes had been prepared descendants evolved to have and set, and everyone was sit“Satan’s Second Gift,” Illustration by The Masked Lady ting down at the dining table. After saying grace, everyone took the time to say something they were grateful for. When it was Ulhua’s turn, she stood up. “I must thank Tiffany, Terry, and Karen for allowing to inhabit your abode. I have prepared a gesture of my thanks.” Right on cue, a giant, three-headed turkey slammed through the wall, breaking it. Then, it screamed. The Humans screamed. As Ulhua stood, unmoving,