Story cover for S I L E N C E D by Shwitzen
S I L E N C E D
  • WpView
    Reads 169
  • WpVote
    Votes 6
  • WpPart
    Parts 11
  • WpHistory
    Time 59m
  • WpView
    Reads 169
  • WpVote
    Votes 6
  • WpPart
    Parts 11
  • WpHistory
    Time 59m
Ongoing, First published Mar 25, 2019
"Have you forgotten? Are you so dumb you can't even realize a very obvious fact?"
"We have the numbers, we have no reason to fear them!"
"We have every reason to fear them, Pasarth! We may have the numbers, but those assassins are much more skilled and stronger than us. And besides, they have a very clever strategy of staying hidden."
"Which is?"
"Picking us off one by one. They're not cowards, they just don't fight needless battles but instead kill, in the cover of the night."
"Then we need to do the same - pick them off one by one like they do with us! Then we can get the big reward, and-"
"We can't kill them. I want the reward as much as you do, but they're unstoppable. Besides, they're never who you think they are."
"What do you mean?"
"..."

An unfortunate event has lead the assassin gang into the open, and a large group of bounty hunters is planning on taking them off. However, the assassins have brought more attention to the group than one would've liked, and it has grown significantly. The hunters have become the hunted, yet they still hide. Newly arisen criminal gangs take care of the bounty hunters, leaving themselves out in the open.

Xodim, however, is like no other assassin, for he possesses powers many wish they have. His main one? Shapeshifting into a black and white cat. And the last thing you remember, is his icy blue eyes right before he takes your life..
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Slide 1 of 10
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VAGABOND BLADES

13 parts Ongoing Mature

Oh, another post-apocalyptic story? How original, right? Pft! Look at ya... sittin' there with your smug, arm-chair critic opinions; puffin' out your chest like you're the final boss of good taste. "It's all been done before." Oh, no shit, Nostradamus. So has fuckin' breathing, but here you are, still doing that. The delusion is palpable, my guy. You think your limp-dick cynicism makes you clever? You think you've got the range to shit on this demon slaughtering, blood slick, chaos drenched fever dream? Fuck you. You don't know shit. You definitely don't know Sky King and Ezra Black. If you did? You'd be swan-diving into this bangarang mayhem. But hey, no pressure. Nobody's stapling your eyelids open. You wanna ghost out? Bye! This isn't a fucking sleepover. This is volitional havoc, baby. We're not here to beg you. Ezra and Sky? They're two majestic slaughterhouses who have been Crane kickin' existential horror in the dick since they were seven & eight. You ever see an eight-year-old tear a demon's jaw off with his bare fuckin' hands? You should. These two were goin' full Mortal Kombat on demons. Bare-knuckle survival in a nonstop horror gangbang of blood, viscera, fangs, claws, and absolutely zero goddamn hugs. No bedtime stories, no parents, just rage boners and annihilation. Cut to the now. The boys are knocking on thirty and they're incorporeal. In a world they shouldn't have survived, they Detroit Smashed that shit into the goddamn pavement. Yeah, they shook it down in the most disrespectful way possible. Savage intellect, weaponized charm, and pure, unapologetic carnage. The last remaining relics of a time when people had balls. Sure, maybe their moral compass is more of a "suggestion" than a "guiding principle." Who gives a fuck? If you were expecting some virtuous, noble bullshit, I don't know what to tell you. Wrong story, pal. *Cue the goddamn soundtrack* (Now let's rip that fourth wall down and go ride this motherfucker into the sunset!)