Imagine a World within ours. Authors write about Fantasy. They write about dream worlds and other illusionary realms besides our own. But do they believe what they’re writing is true? To you it’s all just imaginary, but for me it’s real. Every night when I sleep I visit a world quite unlike our own. But this is not a normal dream.

London has been hit by the Plague. The whole world has. But what happened to the survivors? It’s the year 2056 and London is a vast mess of destruction. The streets are empty, there are no people, and the world is silent. For now! The plague hit London in 2053 and killed just about everybody, leaving the survivors fighting for survival. Others survived as well, but these were sick, and dying with the most dreaded disease around. The plagued loom around in the shadows, waiting to be helped, waiting for someone to help them, waiting for the healthy. Touched by a plague person and the disease shoots through your system In a few hours, leaving you to fight it on your own... All on your own. Now with essential supplies running out faster than anyone imagined, the survivors have a challenge to stay alive in the harsh environment. Most die of starvation and the plague, but some die on their own accord, not being able to face anymore sorrow. There is no hope, no joy and no help. There is nothing...

The Officials is the hardest, cruellest, most barbaric game in the history of television programmes, sending children aged 13-17 into the very real, very serious and very forbidding world of death. Their task once in the Maze is simple – Kill everybody who isn’t on your side by any means possible. There are 10 teams of 10 people, sorted out before entering the Maze, who help, protect and fight with you till the very end. Only one team can win the Officials, and so no other teams are able to live, making the lives of each individual very fearsome, distressing and miserable. Why enter this slaughter house you may ask? These children have been driven to the absolute extreme all for the thing that would make anyone brave enough risk death. The prize for winning the Officials is eternal glory, lasting fame, permanent wealth, and anything else anybody has ever wished for in their wildest dreams. All of this comes with the terrible risk of possible death, however, and most people bale out at the statistic of 10/100 children, at maximum, making it out alive. The people brave enough, and every year the Officials manage to find 100 of them, enter the Maze knowing too well that they probably won’t leave it. This is what the world has come to – Making children kill each other for an entertainment programme.

PUBLISHED UNDER CLOAK POP FICTION What's dead should stay dead. When you mess with the natural order, things could go horribly wrong. Having a six-hundred year old rotting soul, for example. Or discovering that your boss is the son of the Devil. I am Aramis Rayne. Full-time familiar. Part-wraith. Occupation: prevent the end of the world. Sounds impossible? You haven't seen the worst part yet.

Music:ON World:OFF Welcome to Syrus. Please pick up your complimentary pair of headphones at the gates. Plug them into your mandatory devices and skip to track four. Listen and enjoy. Cor's world is filled with notes and pitch and tone. Twenty three hours of the day she is hooked to the music mandated by the Serial Seven, Syrus' elite council. It is essentially every teenager's dream: Hit a button and drown the world out. But what happens when the music stops?

What if you were colorblind but you never thought a thing about it because everyone else is? Well, that isn't the case with Isabella. She's one of the only ones that actually sees in color, but what are these color? What happens when she finds out the meaning of her existence with the help of govermental scientists that only want to do tests on her? To cut her open to see why she's special? What happens when the colorful falls for the colorless?

PUBLISHED UNDER CLOAK POP FICTION I am Aramis Rayne. Immortal. Full-time familiar. Short-term goal: Rescue my boss from total annihilation. And how to do that? I'm going to need a miracle.

I hear people, Inside my head. Their mouths don't move, yet they still speak to me. They don't acknowledge i'm listening, even though i am. I'm a mind reader, and nobody knows. Or so I thought.... People are out to get me. To figure out why i'm so different. They don't care about me. Just my brain. If they find me, they will kill me...