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Literature
new story
Minutes to Midnight
Benigno Santos, 48, whispered an apology, before squeezing the trigger. He uttered a silent prayer, as he watched the explosions from afar. People panicked around him, and the DC Metro Police and Fire Squad came too late. The symbol of the American government that has stood for hundreds of years was now reduced to ashes.
Less than thirty-six hours earlier, the phone in the bedroom of the Philippine Ambassador to the United States of America rang. Juan Victor Estrella, looked at the clock on the nightstand, it was three in the morning. He sighed.
"Hello?"
"Mister Estrella? Commence Operation Kampilan," a female voice said, before hanging up.
Estrella stared at dead phone in his hand. He stood up, and took out his work phone from inside a drawer in his cabinet. He sent out a text message, disassembled the mobile phone, and went in the bathroom to take a shower. An hour later, he was on his way to the airport.
The Secretary for Defense, Maria Maliksi, put down her phon
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Literature
poems...
Keys
here, as the memory
of keys linger,
a man's heart inevitably
pulls the trigger.
tinkling keys
beckons a child
fascinated
by music,
dreaming of becoming
something more, and
bringing happiness to all.
jingling keys echo
of abandonment,
of shut doors
and darkness,
a man's nightmare
of solitude
and timelessness.
but here, in this simple
place, the clacking of
keys serve as both
blessing and curse,
a person's quest
to forget one's memory.
for Mari
Running the Mill
It usually starts in the afternoons.
A flock of birds sat by my window, their voices
like nails on a blackboard, or forks
to porcelain plates, irritating
the ears and grating the nerves. They watch
other creatures, their mouths never wavering to stop.
Even after dark, these birds kept talking.
Their shrill voices all loud and out of sync,
mingling and coalescing into the night. Birds
of different kind would come and join
and mingle and coalesce, and the cold night wind
howl its sullen voice in echo of the birds. Piercing
scre
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Literature
Backyard
Backyard
The ticking of the wall clock sounded alongside the staccato rhythm of the keyboards. It was a little late, a few minutes after three in the morning. The monitor light illuminated the face of a young man, in his late-twenties and lean. He stopped for a while, staring at the computer and eating cookies. When the pack was empty, he crumpled it and threw it somewhere in the dark room. It plopped on top of a stack of books. All the while, he was still reading something on the monitor, occasionally scrolling down on the mouse.
He would sometimes put a cigarette in his mouth, but he never lit it. He would return the stick in its place tucked behind his ear, and he would sometimes glance at the papers by his side. A dog howled outside, and he momentarily tore his gaze away from the screen. He scanned his room, mountainous piles of papers, books and hard drives littered the small expanse of it. A phone rang, and he searched for it beneath some papers.
"Hello?" his voice went out crack
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Literature
The Visitor
The Visitor
The night sky sparkled with stars, and the crescent moon shown unhindered. It was already a little past one in the morning, lights coming from inside houses were rare and people outside even rarer. A dog howled, an answering bark came a little further away. A bat flew overhead, and a rat scampered out of its hiding place to scavenge amongst the pile of garbage in a street corner. The nearby shopping mall had been closed for hours, and the last kuligligs and tricycles in the vicinity have sleeping people in them.
The place was asleep, except for a few drunks who were almost all have fallen asleep. Heavy footsteps were heard, as if a horse went hurriedly by, accompanied by a loud sniffing. A lone drunk who saw the tall, equine-like man, thought he saw an illusion. He drank the beer dregs in the bottle in his hand, and promptly collapsed face-down on the table. It was met with guffaws and shouts from his companions.
The apparition, a creature of myth, stopped in its tracks. It
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Mature content
Living on the Edge part 2 :iconnoriboriman:noriboriman 0 0
Literature
Kilometer 3
He waited still, even though he knew that she would not be coming. The cool night breeze brought goosebumps on his exposed skin, a shudder through his frame. His hair was wet from the dripping underside of the road above; the underpass where he was standing was quiet. He looked at his watch, it was already past midnight. He waited.
They were alright, until the time he stood her up four nights previously. They agreed on waiting for each other by the Kilometer 3 marker in the Recto-Morayta underpass at about midnight that night. Why there, only they knew. That night, he went out with his friends, got drunk, and awoke very late the following morning.
He awoke with a terrible headache, the throbbing in his temples never stopped from pounding. A song by Kitty Barracuda was playing over and over in his mind, as he tried to remember what he was supposed to have done last night. And then, he remembered.
At first, he tried calling her. She never answered her phone, or whenever her family answer
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Mature content
Living on the Edge 1 :iconnoriboriman:noriboriman 1 1
Mature content
Newsflash :iconnoriboriman:noriboriman 2 0
Literature
A Memory to Keep
The scratching of pencil on paper continued, its very sound annoys the girl at his right. It was almost five in the afternoon, the light from the setting sun filtered through the curtains covering the windows. The left side of his face was lit by the sun, his brow knotted in concentration as the scratching continues. The girl hummed, a futile effort on her part to drown out the scratching.
She nudged his arm after a few moments; the pencil created a disjointed and crooked line on the paper. He turned to look at her, his face annoyed. She nudged her head towards the front end of the room.
The man in front continued his droning, promptly writing something on the board with a marker. A few scratching of pen on paper in the room followed his example, apparently, it was important to some people in the room.
“You’re not writing again,” she whispered.
A boy in front of her turned to look at her, then shrugged and turned away. A girl raised her hand, prompting the man in front t
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Literature
The Founding of Alderia
Matin led his tribesmen in the attack against Castle Halavang. The tribe of Spyder was a very fierce tribe. Matin is the tribe’s chief, the warlord of his clan. He once had a dream of unifying the whole island through his help, thus he devised a plan by killing the other tribal warlords. By attacking Castle Halavang, the stronghold of the tribe of Wulff, the other tribes would follow suit to it.
Matin signalled to stop. Guards were patrolling the edge of the forest near the castle walls. Creeping stealthily, like a tiger hunting for his prey, Matin approached until he could see them clearly through the dense foliage. With a flicker of his wrist, he buried a dagger to its hilt in their necks, hitting the jugular vein, killing them without his screaming. Motioning the others to follow him, Matin brought out his blowgun and shot at the patrolmen on lookout over the walls. Some followed his example, while others cast lines to scale the walls. The other men, the tribal shaman, encircle
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Literature
The House of Black
The boy stood almost apart from the others, except for the thin boy and a beautiful beside him. There he was, standing along with the other first years in the middle of the four House tables. He looked as if he was bewildered with everything around him, astonishment was more like. Severus Snape, the Potions Master, studied the boy’s face intently, he seems to be not of Potter stock, although he was handsome and has his mother’s eyes. Black hair, unruly, with round glasses, it’s as if James Potter was alive yet younger. And yet…
The boy shifted on his feet, he fidgeted as he studied his surroundings. The ceiling was enchanted, he remembered some girl in front of him said. He watched as the dark clouds on it shifted, revealing in little detail the starry sky they hid. His eyes explored the suits of armour standing in attention in the sides of the great hall where they were escorted. He stared at the stone walls, some having chink on them. Harry Potter, nephew of Edwar
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Activity


  • Listening to: The Beatles, Coheed and Cambria, Beethoven
  • Reading: The Name of the Rose, Wind-up Bird Chronicles
  • Watching: Goemon, Patient X, Gamitan, Tokyo Dogs
  • Playing: Starcraft 2: Beta
  • Eating: salad
  • Drinking: iced water with a hint of lemon
i have been reading the manga 07ghost online when suddenly, there were no more updates... no biggy, i said to myself, i'll just wait for the updates... several months later, there were still no updates... and it was not only this particular manga, some mangas have stopped uploading their continuations... i know i'm not someone who can complain and all, (because these updates are made by fans just like me for their own satisfaction), but please, keep up the good work of translating and updating mangas that are very appealing to the readers... we know how hard you work for it, and that is why we are here to support you all...

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Lazaro Cruz
Artist | Student | Literature
Philippines
normally dressed in dark colours when the weather permits it... an avid reader and a writer... enjoys walks in the different parts of the metropolitan manila, rides in the electric trains, and of course the simple pleasures of a cup of barako coffee...

Favourite genre of music: rock, alternative
Favourite style of art: Surreal; gothic horror
Personal Quote: "I brew trouble, mayhem, and barako coffee... Masarap talaga magkape..."
Interests

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FirstLine1 Featured By Owner Feb 15, 2016
thanks for the watch!
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VanessaPadua Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2015   Digital Artist
Thank you for the watch :happybounce: 
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Carllton Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2014  Hobbyist
Thank you for the +WATCH :heart:
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UrsulaDecay Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2014  Professional General Artist
Thank you for watching meeee  ^ u ^  <3
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andungen Featured By Owner Jan 20, 2014
Thank you for the watch :hug:
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Joe-Roberts Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for Watching :) 
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Wynta-Illustrations Featured By Owner Nov 15, 2012  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for the watch! :la:
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Thanks for the watch!
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MikeAlcantara Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2012   Traditional Artist
thanks for the watch
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ai-eye Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2012  Hobbyist
Thank you for the Watch!=)
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