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After wearing the permanent mask, the man's face kept changing rapidly. The groans became screams, the shaking evolved into seizures, and madness took over sanity.
The artist soon realized that it was all a huge mistake, a black dot in his clean history. He had to take measures. As the poor soul gets tormented, the artist quickly collected all his mask master pieces and and burnt them, releasing the shop's curse. The shop swallowed everything within it, the tools, the masks and the unfortunate inside as well, reducing them to nothingness.
Afterwards, the shop continued to exist like nothing happened.

"Oh my, it's half past eleven PM already."
"I have one hour and thirty minutes left, what shall I write?"
He leaves his laptop and proceeds to the kitchen.
"I should eat something first."
Half an hour later.
"Oh crap! only one hour left, I must do it now."
He goes upstairs, enters the room, and gets distracted by his phone.
"Oh, a notification! What does it say?"
Another thirty minutes passes.
"My god, there is only half an hour left!"
By the time he reaches his laptop, twenty minutes magically pass by.
"Eh.. You know what? I'll write nothing."

His view of the sky was blocked by a rampaging barricade of shoes, for he resisted the irresistible. The act of opposing a powerful entity wasn't a wise choice, but neither was the act of beating a defenseless woman.
Reckoned powerless, the stomping stopped. He rose heavily injured. With bloody clothes and a bruised body, he stared blankly at who it seemed to be in charge, reached for his hidden pocket, and leaped stabbing him in the chest.
Stunned by the swift events, everyone suddenly lost their hearts, tossed their legs on their shoulders and escaped. Broken, he stood victorious.

John stares horrifyingly at the floating ashes as they turn back to their former state, a phoenix, again. His steel sword marked the bird's death ten times, it IS immortal after all. Phoenixes live up to their legends alright, John thinks.
John swings his sword killing it for the eleventh time. But his efforts deemed hopeless. Nothing worked so far, the ashes eventually transform back.
"Sealing!" John thinks loudly. He miraculously stabbed it in the heart once again, degrading it to ashes. Quickly, he sealed the beast's remains for eternity; rendering its ability to live its thirteenth life no more.

wrapped in soft wings, a luminous gorgeous girl in white sheds a tear. A tear that awaits no permission to turn into a diamond, and drops deep inside the ground. It only takes few seconds for it to become a phenomenal sight. The diamond tear quickly grows into a glass white tree, bearing round lustrous fruits. The fruits enjoy an eye snatching brightness; so shiny that it irradiates everything around it. The winged white girl, the Moon Bird, harvests the fruits and tosses them in space. That was the first harvest of the moon, the birth of our galaxy's moons.

It was such a quiet night; the full moon illuminated the streets revealing fresh meat for the night walkers. Everyone was able to grab a bite, there was enough dead bodies for many. For the dead, it was lunch time, an opportunity to turn the night's calmness into munches and chomps. A paradise they'll never want to leave. For the living, it was a hazardous time, a quick way to afterlife.
Until dawn.
At dawn, hell breaks loose, the restless dead become literally restless. Gunshots and explosions overcome the joyful sounds of satisfaction, crushing the dead's hopes of eating peacefully.

The court was never filled with such humiliating laughter when the alleged suspect claimed innocence because he didn't know that his doing was a crime. The judge's constant tries to silence the court were all in vain; he even felt like laughing too. What excuse does he have? it's impossible to not to laugh at someone who doesn't consider theft a crime. He was sentenced 10 years in prison, in those ten years he understood something, ignorant fools who don't know and abide the law are prone to suffer; law was created for the watchful. But it was too late.

As a child, I grew up in a loving family; my mother was the kindest, my father was the greatest. I loved them the same, but I loved my dad differently. From my point of view he was a legend, there was nothing he couldn't do; a true model of a man.
However, despite my efforts to impress him, he never confronted me saying that he's proud. I had my doubts that I am a failure, a nuisance. Until he told me:
"Son, you're on the right track."
"I've never been so proud of you."
He never thought the opposite.

He's known for his talent, he's known for his voice, he's known for his well crafted lute. Although all bards possessed those features, his songs were the reason behind his reputation; they soothed the soul, cleaned the heart and calmed the mind.
As if blessed with magic, the combination of his voice and his performance also healed the weak and cured the sick, a perfect fit for a master of bards.
The fortune few who enjoyed him swear that he's an angel in disguise, an angel that speaks with holy words, holy words that are concealed within that magical singing.

-Ding-
A magical sound that travels inside your ears, alerting you for your long awaited prize. It mysteriously enslaves your body to blindly run to the kitchen, only to be greeted by the sweetest aroma you could ever imagine. You can't help but keep smelling it, it's addictive! Despite how bad you want to eat it, the cake is not ready yet. You can't wait, the perfect image of you enjoying the first bite completely took over your head.
But it all paid off, your reward is ready; the 45 minute patience has lead to an end.
Enjoy your cake.

I don't know what forced me to freeze in the middle of the battlefield.. Was it because of the gore killing I'm seeing ahead of me? Or maybe because that's my first time risking my life?
A grunt behind me followed by a recognizable voice snapped me out of it.
"The hell you're doing?" My brother pulls his sword from the enemy's insides.
"Pick up your sword and fight."
"I'm not ready for it!"
"Idiot, you don't have to be."
He handles me the sword.
"It's not can or can't, it's do or don't. Don't try trying, just do it."

"Activate form 8: Shield!"
What seemed to be a ring miraculously expands wide enough to deflect incoming bullets away from our hero's body. The chase has just started and bullets are fired already, "What kind of a criminal are you?" the hero complains.
Fight fire with fire!
"Activate form 2: Dual Guns!"
The ring splits in half and reforms into two pistols. Without delay, a rain of bullets showers the criminal's surroundings, terrifying him to surrender.
The chosen wielders of the "Polymorph" can use this gadget to bring their creations to existence; to balance the odds between good and evil.

Time travelers are extraordinary beings, they can freely traverse time whenever they want; pretty convenient don't you think? How about I tell you that everyone might be a time traveler, would you believe me?
The secret lies in what we call Déjà vu, a chance that you might have jumped from one point in time to another. It's possible that some of us reached further, peeking into the future to adjust their past.
I might be a time traveler as well. It's probable that I already knew today's topic and wrote it back in time before yesterday.
Pretty convenient, right?

Since the fall of the government, mayhem ruled the land; robbery, kidnapping, assaults, extortion and vandalism are what made the city lively. Otherwise it's plain arson and lifeless people dragging their feet around, the situation couldn't get any worse. A rising faction called -The Righteous- seized the chance and took over the city. They made it possible by giving its residents the illusion of choice, or the absolute liberty. Tricking them into freedom wasn't a smart move, their rebellious acts increased, even murders were committed. They failed to notice that some humans desire conflict, to be completely surrounded by chaos.

Is everyone really different? Are some of us capable of doing things that no one else can? Eleonora disagrees. Not because she knows it, it's because she KNOWS it. If humans really use only 10% of their brains, Eleonora would be using about 60% instead. Ironically, most people consider reaching THAT is impossible, but she begs to differ.
"We haven't realized it yet, but the instructions are already engraved in our minds."
Alas, everyone branded her as an insane individual, but she still believed that we are all equal; for her, it was just a matter of time.

"This is a case."
With that, our detective spread silence inside the dinner room. "No one touches anything." he continued. Mr.Gregory is on the ground, dead; presumably poisoned, as the foam around his mouth indicates to. "Hmm.." The detective smells Mr.Gregory's dish, "Arsenic.. that's lethal." he murmurs.
He looks at the dead man's wife, she was shaky and nervous hugging her bag; that was suspicious, so he approached her with a grim face. Terrified, she drops a whooping 10 grams of poisoned salami from her bag, which some of it was used in the crime.
Justice was served.

...
"He did it again!!!"
"I can't believe that!"
A massive group of people witnessed Kaz's astonishing achievement; turning a mere 25 to an outstanding 1054 was no easy feat. Kaz was surprised himself, because his act violated three solid facts:
-He's an amateur gambler.
-He has a terrible luck.
-He sucks at poker.
But who cared? He's winning! Soon the 1054 became 1203.. 1989.. 2134. Ultimately reaching an amazing amount of 4025; greed got a hold of him, pursuing him to gamble one more time, to conclude it with a bang.
"All in!!"
That's when Kaz knew he screwed up.

Fear, monsters, nightmares, they all originated from the same place. A place where beasts roam free, good dreams cease to be and braveness deem worthless.
Somewhere in the back of everyone's head it lies; an abandoned corner you rarely visit, a corner where you dump the unwanted thoughts in hopes of getting rid of them. But they lie there and wait. Powered up by their negativeness they strike unexpectedly.
You can't escape the inevitable, but you may fight it. Many lost their battles, many lost their hope, many became a prey to their own thoughts; all there, in the dark.

Rage and distress filled Mitten, his meal got interrupted. The food bowl grew smaller as he gets carried away to the unknown, "What is it now, human?" Mitten uttered while being held between two arms, it came as purrs and meows which no one understood. After few steps, a stingy cold sensation attacked Mitten's skin; caught by surprise, resistance proved futile. To make things worse, bubbles started forming, "What's this? Puny human, what's this?!" Mitten meows loudly. After what it seemed to be an eternity, he's finally out. "Ugh, awful!" Mitten complains, "Sniff, sniff.. Hmm, at least I smell nice."

Jeff, Cline and Muse, they all had a dream they wanted to put to use.
They dreamed of spreading peace, helping people and fighting foes.
But none of them knew each other, that is the obstacle it pose.
They kept chasing this dream, persistent and without no's.
Until a miracle grouped them, was that meant to? who knows.
They were shocked, happy and full of hopes.
It didn't take time, they came up with logos, names and clothes.
Sadly, each one of them preferred working alone, what's the reason you suppose?
Jeff was deaf.
Cline was blind.
Muse was mute.

"H-hey.. Quit that" David addresses his son, who was clinging onto his legs.
"Can't you see I am busy?"
"But it's fun."
"Sigh.."
David rests his 8 month daughter on his shoulder, while preparing her meal with his free hands. Meanwhile, his twin boys are spreading chaos around the apartment.
"It's my toy!"
"No! You have one of your own!"
The kids turn their tearing eyes to David, hoping he will settle their dispute.
"Guys please stop it.." David pleads.
"I wish mom was here."
"Yeah.."
"She won't be here anytime soon." David sighs.
"And I can't do this alone."

Few stars flicker across the night sky, white clouds roam the atmosphere. All what's visible is the horizon with a perfect split between the sunset and the moonrise, an alluring gradient mix of dark blue and orange illuminates the surroundings. I spread my arms as wide as I could, I've never felt this free; my eyes never settled for a moment, the view was stunning. The whistling wind hummed in my ears "Faster..", without hesitation, I glide downwards, feeling the air pressure against my skin. The sky is an endless road, a road that leads you to mysterious new boundaries.

"We will survive this, Ronald!"
"I'm reaching my limit Robin, save yourself!"
"NO! we're in this together!!"
"I ca-" Ronald couldn't continue, a vine suddenly grabbed him by the leg. The vine pulls Ronald mid-air, upside down; "Run! RUN!" screams Ronald. On the verge of tears Robin screams back "I can't leave you! It will eat you alive!". Ronald gasps and warns Robin "Their queen!! BEHIND YOU!".
"huh? wh-" Robin gets interrupted. "What in the heavens you kids are doing?" their mom pouts. The kids put up their most adorable smile and answered together: "What else? surviving the man-eating forest!"

-Tired of all the irritating nonsense you hear?
-Sick of all the annoying people around you?
-Feeling like you're the only sane person in a 50 square meter radius?
Never experience that again with our brand new "Common Sense". It's cheap, reliable and wards off claptrap absurdity!
Buy it now!

Poverty and crime were common back in the medieval ages; life was hard, and making money was even harder. That marked the birth of the Burglars Guild; they merely "borrow" the rich's money and invest it, then give it back in form of destroyed assets and ruined properties.
They gained rather good reputation despite what they do, they indirectly contributed in relieving the commoners' anger towards the high class individuals. Rogers, their leader neglects killing anyone; he condones, "Why end their aching so quickly? Chant the spell, watch them weep!"
"Psst, you want to rob them blind too?" He smirks.

FIY Hospital is a special kind of hospital, the kind that houses "unique" patients, to the point that if you imagine a disease, it probably exists there.
One day, FIY receives a new patient, who stirred up quite the commotion. He appears perfectly ordinary; however, on a whim, he can terrify the boldest hearts, his screams shake your very soul, and his strength eerily doubles.
Because of him, what has been hell in FIY became despaired inferno; unfortunately, none has survived his phases. Some say he was chosen to end their misery, but some say he has anger management issues.

"GASP!"
I suddenly burst craving for air. It felt like I've been sleeping for weeks.
Confused and lost, I rolled my head to examine the area, only to be fazed by the vast amount of blood beneath me.
Before I even think of an explanation, my eyes lie on a knife stuck in my stomach. My fear grows when I notice stab wounds scattered around my body.
Strangely, my mouth felt.. lighter. Sure enough, my tongue was within my palm; bloody mess. It gradually levitated from my hand, spilling blood everywhere.
I think I was killed in a weird way.

Taking care of a tree can be difficult, despite how easy it may seem. Should a tree loses its support, then it grows wrongly until the end of its life. That’s Ian story.
Throughout his entire life, Ian never considered taking chances, or so his parents taught him. He justifies this thought because his ears got used to the discouraging and dispiriting from everyone around him.
He was like a shining star, dimmed and weakened against his will. He lost his support and continued his journey on the wrong path; abiding the thought “Never do it at your own risk”.

Legends speak of a majestic god, a god who appears to mortals every century to reward one of his worshipers. It's well known myth, or so the travelers claim.
"Long fluffy white hair, dazzling red eyes and tall ears! that's what you look for!"
"You can wish for anything! ANYTHING!"
Kayle couldn't overhear that, and in the same time, couldn't hold his sarcastic thoughts about how absurd that sounds. He glares back at the travelers before adjusting his scarf.
He takes few steps.
The chitchatting stops.
His eyes widen.
A magnificent winged white figure slowly descends in front of him.

High up the mountains, there was an artist who was known for making masks. People often head there to purchase different kinds of masks to face their reality. However, these masks soon lose their effect and wither away.
One day, a man heads there with an intention to buy a permanent mask; although the artist was completely against it, the man kept insisting.
As soon the artist finishes the mask, the man wears it eagerly. Since then, his life has never been so deteriorating.
Wearing a mask is easy.
But preventing what’s beneath it from changing is a lot harder.

His eyes darted around, his breathing suddenly became heavy; why wouldn't he? He’s surrounded by merciless bandits.
Yelling for help was never an option, even if it did, who would come to rescue him in this abandoned desert? Elliot cursed the day he decided to test his might and challenge the Great Desert; ironically, his daring actions brought him regret and self-pity.
As the bandits close by, Elliot takes a final stand and attempts to run for it. Needless to say, his fate was sealed, and if fate had a human tongue, it would speak to not look at it.

His eyes darted around, his breathing suddenly became heavy; why wouldn't he? He’s surrounded by merciless bandits.
Yelling for help was never an option, even if it did, who would come to rescue him in this abandoned desert? Elliot cursed the day he decided to test his might and challenge the Great Desert; ironically, his daring actions brought him regret and self-pity.
As the bandits close by, Elliot takes a final stand and attempts to run for it. Needless to say, his fate was sealed, and if fate had a human tongue, it would speak to not look at it.