#scifi

Cyborg X West daughter Alexandretta. After the two bank heist she returns to the woods of her Father Rage and to his cabin in the most ancient woods. She IS a Demon Gained Predestiny to Become a Demon like Her Father also with the Brain Waves, Reprogrammed with the Yellow Seal and Samadhi with the Brain Waves. She is an unstoppable force of pure Cyborg Unit Programmed with Glory. She Senses like her Father Rage who to Hunt.

Cyborg X West daughter Alexandretta. A full bodied Cyborg with Consciousness and Soul of Brain Waves Programmed Into her Cyborg. Demonic. Sensing what to Hunt and who is guilty, and murderous, to kill. She runs across roof tops, only to find a bank heist in progress. She Senses all the attackers. They all deserve to die. One attacker is out front guarding, so she shoots him through the throat with her MB thermal silenced.

I've studied Goth, grunge, and punk rock, for over 9 years on and off. Many similarly related subjects past 29 years. Cyber Punk is by far my favorite of it's type. The best Cyber Punk to me is Ghost In the Shell Japanese manga which this story is inspired by, but unique to me also. Cyborg X West daughter is Alexandretta. She is a full bodied Cyborg with weapon MB thermal scope silenced. She was Raised in the most ancient woods, and left to go to the Imperial City.

Arising In the Mind, Meditation, Enlightenment, and Nirvana, In THE Void, Mind Merged In THE Void. PassingThrough material Energy the universal Dimensions. Mandala of the Seasons of MYSTICISM, savage through the Ages of Avatar Incarnations, A Demon Gained Predestiny Sensing and Hunting in the most ancient woods.

For three days after I found the rabbit, nothing else had happened. That frightened me more than the noises had. The woods had gone quiet. Not truly quiet. The birds still called in the mornings. Cicadas screamed from the trees in the afternoon. At night, the frogs took over the creek. But the other sounds stopped. No howls. Not footsteps beneath my window. No knocking against the walls. Nothing watched from the pasture either. Nothing moved in the tree line.

I saw them. My family’s cows, floating up into the pale white light. I was looking out my window at the time, it was night and I was the only one awake. Father had claimed he had locked the barn, but again more of the poor creatures where taken. They had been going missing, one by one, for a while now. My family had installed camera’s, but nothing was ever caught, just another cow disappearing into thin air every night.

Part I

Mama was holding the goat by the horns while wearing garden gloves, still avoiding touching the horns with bare skin. “Untie those,” she said referring to the rope used to tie the goat to the column. I began to unfasten the rope from the goat’s neck. It started to jerk its head, uncomfortable with how she was being handled. “Don’t touch the horns,” her voice stern but low.

This story is inspired by SCP-096 created by Dr Dan, and takes place in the SCP Foundation universe. The cover image was created by dekades8 on DeviantArt and edited by me. Yeah, hey, I don’t know where this will go. If this goes through anywhere, then I guess I got lucky. one. Last. TIME. If you’re reading this, don’t go looking for what I saw. I mean that. Don't look at its face, and this means no photo will be attached.

​In a mysterious forest, among ancient trees and a clearing long forgotten by man, stood an abandoned shack surrounded by old, neglected graves. The place was shrouded in infamy; disturbing things happened there. Witnesses claimed that something sinister lurked in the darkness. Local residents spoke of terrifying screams echoing from the shack—cries that resembled a chimera or some other horrific beast.

​Jason pulled out of the parking lot next to the "Dark Valley" roadside diner. Sitting beside him in the navy-blue Jeep was his friend, Caroline. They had just stopped there to grab their favorite beef steaks—it was pretty much their weekend ritual. Both were in excellent spirits as Jason slipped the key into the ignition and tried to start the car.

A cold snowflake greets the warm skin of my face, melting immediately. I ignore the sensation and look forward instead, just like the rest of my group. “Holy shit! The legends did have some truth in them!” Jess yells over the howling wind. David shakes his head: “I’ve been telling you this a thousand times! This is the whole reason for this expedition.” He can’t contain his excitement. I look at the snow-covered ruins.

To sell your dream. Dreamselling Sold dreams Someone decides their dreams impossible and sells them to someone without dreams "I've had it!" I yell: "Mine is just simply unachievable!" My colleague laughs: "Some dreams just are that way, many people here sell them, here there's no need for them anyway. Dreams just get in the way of getting finished." We're sitting inside the grey lunch room of our workplace. I turn to him and lean back: "Did you sell yours?"

Before I start this story, I should point out that I believe in the paranormal. I have seen ghosts throughout my lifetime, and I even believe in aliens—I mean, I’ve seen UFOs flying around. My belief in them only grew stronger after hearing a story my dad shared with me. Let me just jump into this; I don’t want to ramble on.

Good day. My name is not important. What matters is what I found… and what I was never supposed to find. This document comes from archived police records dated back to the late 1980s. I discovered it by accident while going through old, partially damaged files. At first, I thought it was just another closed case, something routine, something forgotten for a reason.

Hi, my name is Paul Lipson. People used to call me Henry. As a child, I was born with a Siamese twin. My twin could not see me, but sometimes… sometimes he controlled my body or whispered thoughts into my mind. At first, it was subtle—a hand I didn’t want to move, a voice I didn’t speak—but as I grew older, the whispers became screams.

Hello, Mother, I feel like tonight may be my last in these trenches, for better or worse. Last night the enemy pushed us back to the perimeter of the town we’ve been defending for the past three months. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out for. Reinforcements and supplies are two to three days out, I have two insta-chow syringes left and three and a half magazines to hold me through the next few nights. We have about two more hours of sunlight left. I’ll be sure to give…