No one's going to win this war

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No one's going to win this war

The Stories

Mercy Is DeadIt was May 10th.Most flowers grow in the warmth of the sun. There is one, however, that grows in the chill of pain, and that one is August's favorite.She calls him The Witherflower. She says that she hates him, but she bathes in him. She speaks of him like God is spoken of in the synagogue.Though how is that unique? In this war, the wither is worshipped. She simply could not resist its promises, just like the rest of us..
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.COMING SOON

Hey Punk, Keep This a SecretDanielle "Danny" Stewart, Chance Andrews, and Carly "CJ" James start their adventure with a chaotic jumble of suspicions, which almost all seems to trace back to a 20 year old man who Chance refers to as "Hart." Read along as these three teens discover the truth about this handsome man from Montana that Chance is so madly in love with..
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Mercy is Dead:
Extra Content

THE COLLECTION OF NIGHTMARES

JOURNAL CONCEPTS

SNIPFICS

"It's not me. Stop, don't do this. *I agree with you.*" But how could I? The crimes they are disagreeing with are done in my name--- how could I reject them? "What's the matter," their leader asked me. "I thought this was what you people were into."
"History repeats itself," Dolan said. "Not just in the world, but in the home." August knew this was true. In fact, she had been thinking it for a long time, though she had been too afraid to say it. Too afraid of speaking her own demise. Adurin had b
DON'T FEEL BETRAYED. I WILL COME BACK FOR YOU. -August
I stood at the bus stop, unmoving. The bus had long rolled away by the time the words had settled themselves in my mind. What did he call me? I have never been viewed that way before. He saw me so tenderly, and still, I ruined it. Somehow, I managed t
Boredly, I pitch the thought to Dolan and August, curious what they might say. Dolan tries to stop and think on it, but August speaks before he can: "That's already happening, Adurin. The virus is called the wither, and it made us into the animals that
I touch her hands and they burn. She speaks to me with sharpness, stabbing me like a knife. But is that not love? I haven't had it any other way. I touch the body and it stings. My lips meet the darkness, feeling just like the insults. But is that not lov