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Trigger Warning: contains themes of violence, assault, horror, gore, and death. Pain.  That is all I was left with. My only feeling, morning, noon, and night. The pain of needles piercing my frail, white skin; of the vile, harsh medicine flowing through

Trigger Warning: contains themes of self-harm, suicide, assault, horror, gore, and death. My dear diary, today it is 14th November 1901. My wife, Claire and I left England three days ago for our second honeymoon that would last five days. We went

Join the Book Club, Art Club and Club Ink in the first installation of their comic strip with Neel, Ali, Anam, and their adventures! Starting out their journey at their high school reunion, the trio has stumbled upon a rather

“Please, please, please go away,” my whispers echo across the empty room. I’m propped up against the door; my aching back is protesting, but I cannot get up. The door is locked. Of course, it is. But if I can’t

"Take a semester at sea, Aria. It'll be fun, Aria." The girl scoffed, readjusting the heavy chains on her bruised and bloody wrists. How had she gotten into this mess? Her sister had finished her semester at sea last year and had

Part 1A Vacant were her expressions, lost were her thoughts. The world had taken its toll on her, and now, she was alone and hungry. Misplaced were her instincts, broken was her compass, directionless, and misguided, she continued to walk, hungry