Awakening, Bound and Hooded
The grinding of bone on bone scrapes against your senses as you awaken, your world...
The grinding of bone on bone scrapes against your senses as you awaken, your world...
Hooded taskmasters stand watch over lines of workers chained together in body and fate....
I see the attack coming and I know I’m dead meat—what meat is left, anyway. Almost...
Like a boar rooting in the dirt, I lean forward, the [weapon]’s end near the...
With two fingers of each hand I sweep the air in whorls and arcs, touching my...
The action of loading my [weapon] has become so automatic I could recite a poem at...
I close with my opponent and take hold of the danger, my hands like vices trapping an...
Like the snake that spits before striking, I too can stop an enemy with a swift throw of...
I hold my [weapon] in ready position, next to my ear, as if it is telling me...
My swing has one purpose—to crash through any protection and into whatever passes for...