Micah Park Biffle

 The Day of Valhalla  Winter has scorned our land with bitter winds and even colder grounds. Our crops have withered and soils have been taken by permafrost. We grow hungry in each passing day and our enemy will give us no mercy.   We are surrounded by hills and so we shall see our enemy one day prior to battle. Let the gods be on our side and let war be our passage to Valhalla. We ignite tonight with a ceremony of sacrifice, appease our gods so they may be at our backs in battle.   We only fear that our sacrifice may not be heard, for looking upon our lands it seems that gods have already turned their backs. No winter has ever been so cold, so toxic to our lands. But we lift up this sacrifice with great honor. Spill the blood of this living beast and let our souls be lifted by the gods. May they guide us through battle and if we shall be victorious, allow us an easement of winter's hold.    I take this blade and spill the blood of our sacrifi...

Oliver and Company    Everything fell apart, everything. It all became a shamble of horrors, of mental disparity. Ghosts now cling to the walls, to the pictures, to the dusty cabinets that bare no food. No voices have spoken a single word within these walls in months.   Everything is gone, crumbled, vanished in an instant. Oliver is no longer whimsical in his thoughts, his heart, now a black hole. A cosmos of black space, a cold chamber of hate. He is now a friend among the cobwebs and spiders. He curls to the corners of his dark home and whispers as the infestation of madness infests.   His mind curtails any thoughts of joy. His bones poke from his flesh like fingers pressed to dough. He is mental in his own. A soul reaping of rotted stench and ugly woes. His mouth is foul with pity as he crawls on his hands and knees.  Mumbling nonsense beneath his breath. His teeth clattering to the frozen as winter proceeds to give him no warmth. He cries ou...