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Cub's Note

A handscrawled note, lightly damaged by the weather. Date unknown. Transcript Mom, I'm hoping you'll find this in the supplies I dropped off. This might be the last food I can drop off for awhile. Things have been getting intense at camp. They've been

The Factory

After the first conflict, The Liberty Lions raided several Kurdizov hospitals, stockpiling drugs and medical supplies. And in their raids, they stumbled upon experimental bio-printers. A revolutionary piece of technology, especially during wartime. They started small, printing fingers that’d been blown off, or grafting skin. They tried printing more

Hallways

His footsteps echo through the hallway. Bouncing off polished linoleum, and painted plaster. Lights click on overhead as he passes under them, and click off as he exits their illumination. He’s in a rush, walking fast. Every couple of steps his shoes skid, squeaking on the floor. He mumbles

Subtract

The checkpoint was made up of pockmarked concrete, and rusty corrugated iron. The barricades were little more than piles of rubble on either side of the road. It was a an old scar on our city. A conflict from long ago. As we approached, I saw movement in the watchtower

Emerging

It was 8am when the fog rescinded, leaving a low hanging overcast sky. Stark silhouette’s of buildings formed in the grey light, casting long unnatural shadows at the early hour. I hadn’t seen the old town quarters since I was a kid, when they’d been condemned and

Confession #1

I confess, I shot him. It was opening night, Crimson Rain, a Great Depression drama about a fugitive on the run after robbing a bank. In the first act, he rushes onto stage as thunder rolls and strobe lights emulate lightning. It’s raining outside, and his car went off