-
Новости
- ИССЛЕДОВАТЬ
-
Страницы
-
Группы
-
Мероприятия
-
Reels
-
Статьи пользователей
-
Offers
-
Jobs
-
209 Записей
-
0 Фото
-
0 Видео
-
Female
-
01/02/1970
-
Читают 0 человек
Недавние обновления
-
The Gaslight BenevolenceThe fog that night in Whitechapel was the colour of bruised flesh, thick and suffocating, and Arthur Pendelton stood at the edge of Dorset Street watching a scene that made no sense. A beggar—his face hidden beneath a mat of grey beard, his clothes hanging from him in tatters—had knelt beside an old man who lay sprawled on the cobblestones. The beggar's hands, black with grime, were gently...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 0 Просмотры 0 предпросмотрВойдите, чтобы отмечать, делиться и комментировать!
-
Seven Defensible Steps to the Place You Never Meant to GoThe call came in on a Tuesday, which was fitting, because Tuesdays were the days when Michael Reynard felt most acutely that his career had become a room where someone else kept rearranging the furniture. He was thirty-seven years old, a screenwriter — no, that was not quite right, not anymore. He was what the industry called a script doctor, a fixer, a closer. When a screenplay was...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
RenderAct 1 The rain fell at three every afternoon, like clockwork. Acid rain, the kind that smelled like metal and made the neon on the street below shimmer with colors that didn't exist in nature. Kael Warwick watched it from his office window on Level -4 of the undercity. The window was a reinforced polycarbonate panel, two inches thick, the only thing in the room that looked new. Everything else...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The room was white. Not the warm white of sunlight, but the cold white of fluorescent tubes and sterile surfaces. The walls, the ceiling, the floor—all white. In the center sat a single chair and a small table. Opposite the chair was a wall of glass.Dr. Erin Walker stood on the other side of that glass. The prisoner could not see her. He saw only his own reflection. She had designed the room herself. A white chamber, a one-way mirror, a blackboard hidden behind a sliding panel. The prisoner would think the glass was a mirror. He would see himself. He would not know that behind the mirror, Erin was watching. She had spent three days...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The Gothic Hunger(V-12: Gothic Style) Lord Alistair lived in a house that breathed. The manor, a sprawling gothic monstrosity on the edge of the Yorkshire moors, was filled with the echoes of a lineage that had grown thin and pale over centuries. Alistair was a collector of the occult, a man who spent his fortune on grimoires and artifacts that promised a glimpse into the unseen. He was a man of profound greed,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The Architect's Eye*Entry 42: The Asymmetry Protocol* The human psyche is a predictable machine, driven by the primitive tension between effort and reward. Most believe that fairness is a fundamental requirement for stability. I believe that fairness is a boredom-inducing myth. To truly understand the nature of power, one must introduce a systemic, irreducible asymmetry. I have designed the "Symmetry-Void"...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
Six Hands Between the Signal and the SilenceThe message began its life at fourteen minutes past eleven on the night of the seventh of March, 1962, in a room above a bakery on Bernauer Strasse. The bakery was in the French sector, which meant it was in West Berlin, but the room above it had a window that faced east, and if you stood at that window in the dark you could see the Wall. It had been six months since the Wall went up, and...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 223 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The Shadow of The Double - Variant 12The phone rang at seven in the morning on a Sunday, a sound that pierced through the heavy, stagnant air of the trailer park. Danny lay there, staring at the ceiling where a crack meandered like a forgotten river. The voice on the other end was devoid of emotion, a clinical delivery of a life-altering fact: Someone is doing your job. It was a sentence that stripped the world of its color,...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 1 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The Lighthouse at Blackwater HallTHE LIGHTHOUSE AT BLACKWATER HALL Chapter I The candle blew out on its own, and Arthur Blackwood watched the wisp of smoke curl toward the candlestick ceiling like a prayer that had been answered by someone who did not understand the words. He was seventeen today. Seven days from his eighteenth birthday, according to the old calendar in the hall. Seven days, and the candle would take him, just...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The Broken NodeDebbie OConnor lived in the East End of London in 1985 and her job was keeping things together. She was not paid for it. Nobody paid for keeping things together. It was the work of the invisible the work of women like her mother and her grandmother before her who had held their communities together with tea and tight lips and an ability to know everything that was happening on the street...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 5 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The neon cross above Morrison's Clinic flickered like a dying heartbeat. Jack Morrison stared at it from his chair behind the desk, wondering if he had the energy to change the bulb or if he should just let it go dark.It was 11 PM on a Tuesday in November 1947. The clinic was a converted storefront on East Third Street in Skid Row, downtown Los Angeles. The sign had said "Morrison & Associates" once, but Morrison had dropped the "& Associates" three years ago when the last associate left to join a real hospital in Beverly Hills. Jack had been a medic in Normandy. He had pulled boys out of hedgerows with...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
-
The Absurd Rescue (V-08)In the mid-century haze of Manhattan, where the skyscrapers looked like giant grey tombstones and the people moved like clockwork, lived a man named Arthur. Arthur was a man of profound insignificance, a clerk in a department of records that recorded other records. One afternoon, while walking home through a sudden, illogical fog, Arthur encountered a scene of absolute chaos. A woman was being...0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 6 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр
Больше