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Clock Lirik

The second hand of the clock clicked forward with a soft tick, echoing

1. Uniqueness and Appeal of the Story (Condensed) 1. Worldbuilding: Historical Grit Meets Supernatural Spectacle Setting: 1930s America/Europe: Blends Great Depression realities (NYC soup kitchens, corrupt Wall Street alchemists) with occult threats. Nazi "Lebensborn" experiments resurrect through cursed artifacts, while vampire clans like Sanctum Sanguinis manipulate London's underworld. Core Innovation: Merges noir detective drama, Lovecraftian cosmic horror, and vampire political epics into a cohesive "dark fantasy" universe. Protagonist Wayne navigates gangster-ruled streets and eldritch rituals with equal pragmatism. 2. Plot Architecture: Layered Mysteries & Explosive Payoffs Opening Hook: A seemingly routine infidelity case unravels into a cult conspiracy marked by glowing cat eyes and radioactive mushroom-induced visions. The mundane detective office becomes a gateway to hidden wars. Key Conflicts: Personal: Wayne’s quest to find his sister Gwen—a victim of 1935 Nazi experiments—while battling his own physical decay (corpse-like stench, stopped pocket watch). Supernatural: Vampire dynasties, hellish legions, and secret societies (Mirror Sect) clash over the "Living Grail," a sentient artifact granting control over reality. Historical: Nazi occultists infiltrate America using gold-skull rituals; Federal Reserve corruption fuels supernatural arms races. Climactic Sequences: Holy Grail War: Wayne’s ragtag Vowbound Cross faction battles vampire hordes in London, with alchemically enhanced revolvers firing self-guided silver bullets. Leviathan Rising: A kaiju-like beast emerges from Liverpool’s waters, countered by undead dragons and Vatican light magic. Twist Ending: Gwen is revealed as a Nazi-made proto-vampire, forcing Wayne to sacrifice himself as a vessel to seal an elder god—leaving moral ambiguity lingering. 3. Characters: Moral Complexity & Jarring Contrasts Wayne (Protagonist): Flawed Antihero: A whiskey-drinking PI masking survivor’s guilt with sarcasm. His fake "model citizen" diary clashes with ruthless tactics (blackmail, radioactive interrogations). Duality: Protects street orphans while exploiting clients, embodying Depression-era moral erosion. Veronica & Wilhelm: Noble Fugitives: Veronica’s aristocratic German past and Wilhelm’s swastika-etched knife hint at dark histories. Posing as a secretary/gardener, they manipulate Wayne’s investigations. Comic Relief: Wilhelm’s mountain-like physique paired with cat-obsessed campiness ("sailor outfits") offsets existential dread. Antagonists: Preacher Jacob: A vampiric zealot who views bloodsucking as divine sacrament, mirroring Wayne’s nihilism. Dr. Isaac: A Nazi eugenicist weaponizing vampirism, blending scientific rigor with monstrous ambition. 4. Narrative Craft: Noir Aesthetics & Pseudoscience Multi-Perspective Storytelling: Wayne’s cynical first-person narration intercuts with newspaper clippings (Jack the Ripper Returns), cult parchments, and Veronica’s encrypted journals to piece together the puzzle. Stylized Language: Gritty metaphors: "Wall Street fog smells of rusted dreams," "Veronica’s hair outshines Coney Island neon." Symbolism: Bulletproof doors adorned with Citizen Kane posters critique hollow American idealism; cash-stuffed Bibles mock religious hypocrisy. Sci-Fantasy Systems: Vampire "sun weakness" explained as uranium radiation side effects. "Eldritch whispers" rationalized as infrasound brainwashing; hell reimagined as a quantum dimension. Weapons: Rune-engraved silver bullets, alchemy-modified revolvers blending mysticism and tech.
yu_xu_7087 · 328 Views

Zombie Player & the Regressed Heroine: A Reality Awaits Septmber2024

Synopsis: In *Zombie Player and the Regressed Heroine: A Reality Awaits*, we follow the story of Aeon, an introverted University student whose life takes a dramatic turn into survival horror when a mysterious zombie outbreak sweeps the campus. Known for his obsession with apocalyptic novels and his knack for strategy from a zombie-themed VR game he developed, Aeon finds himself in a world he thought was merely fictional. The outbreak’s trigger is rooted in a lab experiment gone wrong, orchestrated by someone, who had been doing a dangerous experiment. Amid the chaos, Layla emerges as a regressed heroine; she has endured five cycles of death and rebirth, each time retaining fragments of memory that lead her back to the same deadly reality. Layla is powerful, captivating, and determined to survive—yet haunted by the knowledge of her repeating fates and the implications of her past. As Aeon's mundane campus life collides with this catastrophic reality, he is drawn to Layla, whose confidence and torment speak to something deeper inside him. Together, they navigate the treacherous world outside—a battleground full of zombies, rivalries, and the struggle for survival. Tensions rise as romantic triangles form: Aria's innocent crush, Nadia's sharp wit and hidden feelings, and Luna's assertive pursuit of Aeon complicate their dynamics, all while the clock ticks on their chances to escape the increasing dangers. As Layla’s memories resurface thanks to Aeon’s insights from his VR game, she begins to understand her unique connection to the unfolding events. Their mutual growth is complemented by gripping action sequences where they utilize their strategic skills to combat the hordes of zombies. Layers of betrayal unravel as they delve deeper into the conspiracy behind the outbreak and work to uncover the truth behind Layla's abilities. This gripping narrative intertwines themes of identity, love, regret, and the quest for redemption against the backdrop of a world where the line between reality and fiction blurs. As they face off against zombies and the sinister forces behind the outbreak, Aeon and Layla confront their feelings for each other, leading to a bond forged in chaos and uncertainty. *Zombie Player and the Regressed Heroine* culminates in thrilling confrontations, poignant character development, and unexpected revelations that test the strength of human connection. In a world unravelling at the seams, Aeon and Layla must not only fight for survival but also navigate the complexities of their intertwined fates, ultimately leading them towards a long-lasting and deeply meaningful conclusion.
ZERO10A · 8.5K Views

Mordred's Rebirth

This story is kind of based on the Arthurian legend. ******* He was called many things. Bastard, the False King, The Traitor, Treacherous Knight. Sir Mordred was a villain, one who according to the prophecy of the grand wizard Merlin, would destroy the kingdom of King Arthur Pendragon. And he did but at the cost of his life. As he lay dying on the bloody ground of Camlann after the mighty clash between him and Arthur, a bloody tear fell down his face. All he wanted was to be acknowledged by his father but all the things he did eventually led to disaster. Now with death’s cold hands grasping him, he hoped for a short peace before the fiery rings of hell. But that was not the end of his journey. ******* “Hold up.” “What is that infernal noise?” “Oh my goodness! It's driving me crazy! And it's not stopping!” Mordred sprang awake, slamming his fist on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. 'What in Merlin's Beard is happening!?', he thought when he realized something. Well, a lot of things. First of all. How the heck is he alive? Second. What is a digital alarm? That's when memories that didn't belong to him flooded his head. They felt familiar but everything was wrong. How the heck is Morgan Le Fay his sister? She was his aunt! And how is the wizard Merlin so young! “Oh. I get it now”. He, Sir Mordred has been reborn in the body of a different version of himself, in a modern and futuristic world where he is the youngest son of Arthur Pendragon. But even in this world, He is the hated son of the High King. "Now what?", Mordred realized that the world he is in now is different from his previous one, with the only familiar details being the names of the people he knew. “Oh? Are you still reading?” Mordred smiled, looking at the readers. “Well, how about you join me on this new crazy journey in a crazy new world of heroes, villains, monsters, and even gods?” “Are you ready?” "Let's go!" ********************************************** The story is loosely based on the Arthurian legend. I am only using the popular names but the plot is different. The story is purely fictional with a few things from the actual legend being incorporated along with some stuff from other popular works. The characters may have different personalities from the original ones from the legend. There will also be names that may seem quite familiar as well. The cover image doesn't belong to me. Please check out my other work: The First Deviation.
just_a_fox · 183.4K Views

mediators story

Ten years ago, the world was captivated by a groundbreaking VR MMORPG, a fully immersive experience that allowed players to step into the shoes of legendary heroes in a realm of magic and wonder. For a decade, they built their lives, forged their identities, and left their marks on what they thought was just a game. But when the servers shut down, the truth shattered everything. The game world wasn’t just a virtual reality, it was a fabricated timeline, a fragile imitation of the true Magic world . And now, the countdown has begun. The players, ripped from their lives on Earth and the simulation, find themselves in the Magic World, ten years younger but burdened with all the memories of the game and their old lives. Their in-game personas, once vibrant and driven by purpose, are now hollow shells, unable to act on their own. Even worse, Earth’s timeline fragile and unprotected has been paused, and its collapse is inevitable. To prevent disaster, the 10 Originals, the most renowned players of the game, must rise once more. But this time, there are no systems to guide them, no respawns, and no safety nets. The high realm is real, its dangers far deadlier than any raid boss. And as the countdown ticks away, inconsistencies between the worlds begin to unravel reality itself. Thrown into a world they don’t fully understand, hunted by their own past mistakes, and racing against time to stop the collapse of Earth’s timeline, the Originals must uncover the secrets of the game’s creation and find a way to stabilize the Magic World. The clock is ticking, and the fate of three worlds rests on their shoulders. Will the Originals be able to fix the chaos they caused, or will everything they fought for crumble into nothingness?
me_me_emi · 14.4K Views

Ex wife Getting her life back is isn’t easy

Helen settled in the living room, the silence heavy like an unwelcome weight. The only sound in the room, the soft ticking of the wall clock, reminded her that time was going—time she no longer wanted to count. Her mind a mist of thoughts, she subconsciously followed the edge of her coffee mug, her fingers fluttered slightly. None of the questions gnawed at her throughout the long, sleepless night could be answered. \n \n She had only arrived from the hospital early that morning. The doctor's words pulsed in her mind like an unusual symphony: *You're pregnant, Helen. Your baby is now. The child was not anybody's kid. This offspring was Jack's. She ought to have felt something, should have been elated, but she did not. No happiness came from the news. Not today at all. Not after everything that had turned out. For months now, Jack had withdrawn. At first there were minor indicators—forgotten anniversaries, the sudden late work hours, the missed phone calls. But everything changed when she discovered the lipstick on his shirt collar, the one that was not hers, the one she was sure didn belonged to anyone he worked with. He didn't even attempt to hide it. Though he was not one to be totally truthful either, Jack was not one to fib. \n \n The door banging wide open disrupted her thinking. \n \n Jack's fists clenched at his sides in the doorway, his face red with fury. Once warm and love for her, his eyes were now cold and free of any compassion. "Helen," he howled, his voice cutting, "I want a divorce." The words stung her as a slap to the face. The way she felt she knew everything came undone was as if the planet moved below her. Her stomach turned and her heart pained. Things were not meant to be like this. Her trust, her love, her dedication she had provided him. And still, here he was saying she is over. Jack waited not for an answer. His eyes on hers, he tore into the room. He appeared more furious than she had ever seen him. "I'm seeing Jane," he snapped out, as though he had just revealed a new line of sneakers. Your worst enemy. the one who really knows how to make me happy. Helen is better than you. She is more sensitive, finer, and more affectionate. She truly pays attention when I speak; not like you." \n \n Helen's throat clenched as she fought to consume the lump of bitterness rising inside her. Jane? The idea of it made her stomach turn with a combination of shock and treachery; this very same Jane with whom she had been loved for years? How might Jack accomplish this? How could he betray her with the one person she trusted most? Jane wasnuggested completed. "You at most can't give me a child," he went on venomously. "I maybe do not even know why I am still here. For years you have been infertile. I must not continue living like this. I need someone who can provide me the future—someone who can fulfill me. Helen blinked, his words piercing her heart like stings. She opened her mouth to talk, to justify herself, to describe how she had exhausted every means to conceive, but the words caught in her throat. It was pointless. Jack had his mind fixed. Already left, he would not change no matter what she said. \n \n Her lips released a cold, derisive laugh, a hushed sound that sounded like it echoed all over the otherwise quiet room. "You believe it is that simple?" she said, her voice full of feeling trembling. "You believe you can simply discard everything we have developed because you found someone else? Simply younger, simply prettier, simply someone who can give you children?" Jack's eyes stiffened, his jaw set, and he walked a step toward her. Absolutely. Whenever first person pronouns are used in sentences, I respond. I have had it with you, Helen. There is no need for me to justify myself. Simply sign the documents. It has come to an end.
Osagie_Aromose · 2.3K Views

Ex-wife Revenge: From Grass to Grace

The clock ticked past midnight, each second echoing like a hammer in the hollow silence of the apartment. Rain lashed against the windows, the storm outside mirroring the tempest brewing in Emily’s chest. She sat rigid on the couch, her fingers digging into the upholstery, eyes fixed on the door. David’s keys jingled in the lock, his laughter—warm and carefree—seeping through the wood before he did. He stumbled in, tie askew, the sharp tang of bourbon on his breath. But it wasn’t the alcohol that made her stomach churn. It was the cloying sweetness of jasmine perfume clinging to his collar—a scent that didn’t belong to her. “Where have you been?” Emily’s voice trembled, though she’d rehearsed the question a hundred times in her head. David froze, his smile dissolving. “Work ran late. You know how it is.” “Work ends at six, David. It’s *midnight*.” She stood, her legs unsteady. “And since when do you wear lipstick to the office?” His hand flew to the smudge of crimson on his white sleeve—a shade too bold, too *alive* for the muted tones of their marriage. His face hardened. “You’re imagining things.” “Am I?” She stepped closer, the jasmine scent now suffocating. “Or is it *Jane* from accounting? The one who ‘just needs your help’ every time I call?” His laugh was a cold blade. “You’re paranoid. Always picking fights—” “Paranoid?” Her voice cracked. “You haven’t touched me in months! You come home smelling like *her*, lying to my face—” “Enough!” He slammed his fist on the table, a vase rattling. “I’m tired of your nagging! What do you even do all day? Sit here and wait to accuse me?” The words struck deeper than any slap. Emily’s breath hitched. “I gave up my career for you. For *us*—” “Us?” He sneered. “There *is* no ‘us.’ Just you, digging through my things like a desperate—” She didn’t see his hand move. The crack of his palm against her cheek split the air, her head snapping sideways. She stumbled, clutching the wall as the taste of copper bloomed on her tongue. David loomed over her, his eyes wild, foreign. “You… you pushed me to this,” he hissed, grabbing his coat. “Clean yourself up. You’re pathetic.” The door slammed. Emily slid to the floor, tears mingling with the blood on her lip. Outside, thunder roared. But beneath the pain, a spark ignited—a flicker of defiance. Her gaze landed on the shattered vase, its jagged pieces glinting in the lamplight. *Pathetic.* The word echoed, twisting into a vow. She would rise. Not for him. Not for “us.” But to make him regret the day he underestimated the woman he’d reduced to ashes. -**Chapter One: The Scent of Betrayal (Continued)** The air hung thick with venom. David’s chest heaved, his earlier bravado fraying at the edges. Emily wiped her bleeding lip with the back of her hand, her eyes blazing. “You think Jane *wants* you?” she spat, her voice a razor. “Or does she just pity the man who needs to steal confidence from a bottle and affairs to feel alive?” David’s jaw twitched. “Shut up.” “Why? Because it’s true?” She laughed, cold and sharp. “You’re a cliché, David. A middle-aged fraud in a tailored suit. Even your *precious* promotion—did you earn it, or did you cry your way into it like you did when your father called you a disappointment?” He lunged forward, but she sidestepped, her words relentless. “Jane must be desperate. Or blind. Tell me, does she know you couldn’t even—” “I said *shut up*!” he roared, his composure crumbling. “Couldn’t even *what*?” she taunted, stepping closer. “Finish a sentence? A marriage? Or is that why you’re so bad in—” The slap exploded like a gunshot. Emily’s head whipped sideways, her body crumpling to the floor. The world blurred—a kaleidoscope of shattered glass and spinning shadows. Her cheek burned, but worse was the silence that followed, broken only by her shaky breaths.
Osagie_Aromose · 5.8K Views
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