"Lordy, there is icy muffins," claimed a nearby shopper, browsing the market shelves with a weary beam. "I shall take it," the woman raged as she shoved a peculiar black coloured object directly into the bony chest of the shopping clerk. Electricity jumped and channelled through the various blood red veins and frail muscles, within the shop clerk. Muscles tensed and yielded, forcing the man down to the cold, glassy, tiled floor. His body convulsed maniacally about as the old elderly woman snatched with devilish hunger, upon the innocent muffins.

Within those very moments of unease and distress, a lone battle hardy soldier prowled through the metal racks and isles, like a silent and undetectable snake. Chip packets rustled, aluminium cans were shaken from their perches, settled in dusty shelving. All falling, smashing on the ground with thunderous noise, as he slivered through shelves.

The soldier prepared and set up camp in amongst the non-perishable food isles. He made himself a sturdy and fortified bunk from melting down cans with nothing but his shirt, biscuits, a partially used lighter, and determination. A cold and ridged wind blew through the canopy of cardboard bargains and shiny plastic signs, held aloft from the ceiling. Rain settled in, the soldier flayed one of the employees and used his skin and meat to keep warm and dry, for the harsh night ahead.

Dawn broke out from behind the air conditioning unit to the far northern end of the super market. The deranged elderly woman of incompressible madness, was still shovelling mass quantities of succulent, icy dew capped muffins of supreme culinary delight, hastily accumulating within her old purse. The very purse which was crafted by angles, and crapped on by maleficent demon fodder. It held an ominous vortex of infinite capacity.

Readying his supplies and fool hearty heroism, the soldier set out tumbling out and over many disorderly cans, from his makeshift bunk. The soldier was never a morning man, he set his sights upon the cheery cans of bake beans and spaghetti. He let lose with both barrels blazing, from his stone-cold machine guns, made from Menthols, a bike pump, diet Coke, assortment of PVC pipes, hard stale bread like pellets for bullets, which was found within the treacherous depths behind the freezer, and one hell of an hard-boiled demeanour. Pandemonium was unleashed, rending the harmless canned goods into a feverish sundering of crimson liquor and lacerated metal husks.
"That will teach them aluminium bastards." The soldier huffed, rearing his frothing make shift guns upon his chiselled shoulders.

It took many minutes, but the solider managed to make his way and crouch into the glossy mountain of potato crisp packets, only several feet away from the chaotic demon wench. This was it, the final showdown. The very outcome of this confrontation will determine if the muffins will escape the clutches of evil, or face the perils of indescribable torture known to muffin kind.

adrenaline pumped and bony fingers gripped fast to the gun handles. The soldier wrenched his mass out of the mound of chips. Chip packets hailed down the surrounding areas, as the elderly woman noticed the grand hero coming to save the day.
"Die, villain!" roared the soldier, as a thick foam wept from down his cheeks pouring out from his mouth, like a man possessed. Hard stale bread shredded the bordering landscape around the elderly woman. A singular pellet flew through the air, targeting her. Frail bones creaked and snapped in and out of place, showing signs of bitter age. Impossibility occurred, the elderly woman bent over backwards, sustaining her balance just a few centimetres off the floor, showing things only Mr Anderson could ever accomplish. She settled back down into her regular posture, giving the soldier a seductive wink and a sly cackle. Winks from the elderly woman forced the soldiers mighty iron stomach to explode, forcing the inner lining of his stomach and two weeks of food out into the open.
"Damn you wench. This time, you won't survive." the soldier declared as he wiped his face clean of the bile, which ran steadily down his lips and neck. Lightning reflexes grabbed the most holiest of armaments within his immediate proximity. Pulling out his trusty knife, he carved his way through a solid diet Coke can, then plummeted a full stick of menthols into its core. An well aimed hoist of the volatile can shook its contents into a dangerous concoction. A glorious showering of metallic aluminium shards exploded out into the open, mincing the elderly woman within the blast radius of the caffeine burst. All was not well though. The soldier, he too was effected within the close quarters of the magnificent blast. He slowly lost blood, then passed on with a smile of accomplishment.

A statue was later erected by the Muffin King, in honour of his bravery. A strong bronze bust of the soldier stood upon a mountain of skulls, positioned in the fashion of throwing a grenade, yet he was wielding a Coke with a stick of menthols foaming away within its casing. Pity the statue had to be erected exactly where he died, directly within the centre of the damn store.

The end.

"All for a beastie!"

One day on a cold blistering winter morning, while scouting the bare reaches of the highest mountain Moundrae, in Castra. Holu found a mysterious cave. He built up all the courage he could possibly muster and strolled on in. He pulled out his massive gold bladed sword that he spent over twenty thousand Quines for.
"Come out you foul breathed goat, sheep, horse, and man eating chunk of scales!"
Holu stared masterfully squinting into the distance of the cave.

A golden pair of yellow eyes appeared from within the darkness of the cave. Clouds of smoke arose from its blistering nostrils. A massive set of four daggered claws came racing out from the darkness.

"Holy gluma berry pies!"
Holu screamed as he dived out from the monolith of flaming power. The beast stood tall and mighty outside of the snowy peak. Hulu picked his armored butt off the ground and stepped out of the cave. The caves lip served as a visor that made Hulu stared skywards as it revealed the ruby dragon! A magnificent beast only believed to be in legends.

Its horns stretched onwards perching upwards from the dragon's head, great red thrill lay around the back of its head, Bladed dagger like spines coiled down its mighty tail, with a set of mighty red wings rested upon its back, and the mighty red scales, said to be the most protective material in all of Castra.

" Oi! Beastie, over here."
Holu said taunting the mighty and fearsome ruby dragon with his hand swaying towards himself, egging on the dragon."
The dragon roared ferociously and set its glowing yellow eyes on Holu. It swung its mighty head down with teeth fully aimed at Holu. He managed to evade the attack and counter. He swung his mighty golden sword at the beast's head. But only shock had stricken him, as his wonderful gold sword did nothing but bounce off of its massive head.

"When they said the most protective material in all of Castra they weren't kidding."
Holu said as his eyes stared into the dragons. The dragon flung its head up out of the icy stone of the mountain and began to breath its famous fiery breath down upon Holu. He raised his shield in defense. The mighty flames of the ruby dragon's breath started to melt Holu's shield into liquid.
"HOT, HOT!"
Holu screamed as the flames didn't seem to stop and wait. But just wished to burn Holu to ashes as quickly as possible. But a miracle of shear luck glanced down upon Holu, leaving him with nothing but a searing plate of metal no bigger than his face.

"You might of won this time beastie, but mark my words you won't see the last of me!" Holu said as he sheathed his golden sword and dived off of the peak of Moundrae. While pulling a short rope that released a wide clothe life parachute. Allowing Holu to gracefully glide down to safety. The great ruby dragon snarled and let off a smoldering of smoke risen out through its nostrils and retreated back to its icy mountain lair.

I was a human once, a human of an mortal state. Days past in an old city after the event. Which event you might say? Events that will never play again, but will forever be remembered within the minds of the survivors.

Would you like to hear this tale young ones? What's that, I can't seem to hear you?
Oh well, I guess you're never going to find out about what truly happened on that day. Glory showered down upon that city. Freedom was achieved for each one of them, forever free from their pains, sorrows and emotions. Or so I thought.
I'll tell you little book on my lap in the dirt. I'll tell you why I'm here now, wallowing in the memories of the past and mortality.

These memories rushed through my mind with a quickened pace, like a frenzied train. All too fast they were. Slower, slower they must be. My quill can only do so much talking on these stale pages. Inked with the metal scent of the living, my hand came to life, giving life to the very pages. Characters and memories merged into a physical form, taking a permanent place within history.

I was once human too you know. I used to live in an old shack within the city. Anyway. I was an idiot, just a plain old fragile human. I never liked my life. My crops died, my wife fell off a cliff, my worldly possessions were taken away from me by Vikings who loved ale with a sickening delight. I burned with a tormenting rage. One that I wished I could of purged of. But it grew. it was like intoxication. It chocked me, turned me bitter. I had completely secluded myself from all contact from my fellow citizens, who had all peachy lives. Envy settled in. Oh why, why did everyone have to be happy and filled with an glistening joy of life. I couldn't take it any more. I took a sheet of cloth and packed what little I had. The only thing I had left was food. I left at the crack of dawn, no one had seen me leave under the great glowing disk in the sky.

Several days passed. I swung an old stick with a vicious force, cutting through the foliage with ease. Most of my food was depleted. I hadn't found anything edible on my journey so far, which worried me. A single thought crept into my mind which I tried to shake out of attention. Though, it haunted me until I had reluctantly accepted its stubborn existence. Was I going to die out here? A bony skeleton dissolving in the mud, happily giving the forest the chance to pick the flesh off my bones.

I mustn't of been paying attention for a few minutes, while I was walking through the forest searching for food. The last thing I remember was glimpsing down a chasm. A stone vault of mystery and ill intent. I fell several metres. I felt each of my bones breaking as I collided with the stone walls, then bouncing back off and hitting the other side of the chasm. The pain was unstoppable and unbearable. My consciousness faded quickly. I met the ground with a mighty splattering.

Bathed in my own pool of liquid and entrails I lay silent in the darkness. I felt a tingling sensation within my mind. I was dead, wasn't I? I concentrated on its source. My mind blinked into a strange vision. All was grey.

I was standing on a raise of stone steps, leading skywards. My eyes met with another. It was our kingdoms mighty ruler, king Moln. Golden rings with jewels set into them caressed his knuckles, a dazzling crown rested on his head firmly, which was just as dazzling as his jewellery.

Such a man was respected and envied by many. Stabbing pains emerged within my mind. I palmed my hands across my face, gripping tightly. It was unimaginable. I bore an image of the king in my mind. But, this image was morbid. I pictured his severed head centred on a throne covered in red. Was it blood? Why was I thinking of such a thing. I couldn't hold it any more, the pain was too intense. I threw my head back up to the sky while the king's head laughed maniacally. My sudden forceful reflexes shred the very flesh off my skull, sheering my face clean off, leaving the bloodied bone to be revealed to the world. In a split second, just as the flesh had come loose within my fingers, I awoke.

A flash blinded my sight as I came too. I was at the bottom of the chasm, lying down across a stone cold floor. Something strange was amidst though. I was completely unharmed. No broken bones, no loose flesh within my hands. The pain that haunted my mind was absent. I couldn't make the slightest ounce of sense of it.

A silent mutter murmured in my ear. I flew my head around the darkness, trying to see.
" Who's out there? " I yelled. More whispers seeped through my ears. Silently intensifying until it became as loud as a roaring sea breeze in a harsh storm.
" I am." A masculine earthy voice answered directly behind me. I whipped around and jumped back in an instant and yelled in scared surprise.

Luminescent eyes glowed vacantly into space, strange markings pulsated on its hulking body, bluish light shed softly on its earthy mould ridden hide, which looked vaguely human in shape, and its head was covered by a gloomy petrified mask.

It stood over me, it leaned over with foul noises of old creaking wood and hovered its mighty face forward, lighting the area around me. It stared dead into my eyes. All I could see was blue flames gracefully dancing within the masks damp sockets. I was paralysed with fear, I couldn't make a sound. The hallowed whispers slightly dimmed within my ringing ears. Wet breathing swirled around me, in blue vapour, coming from the masks leaking interior.
" Envy, anger. It courses within your mind and veins squishy one." The voice bestowed.

My paralysed body loosened a little, I gripped the ground with out stretched palms and leapt back.
" Who are you? " I difficultly coughed up a short question, landing back on my behind.

The Winslow. Oh yes. It is in fact, immortal and indestructible.

It was a dark and stormy night. Ha, as if. Its never really sunny either in this dark morbid noire land. Cities flying on chunks of floating cement, soaring high in a shadowy levitated state. Nothing exists outside the stone walls of these cities that bar communication between each of the high flying civilisations. Though, creatures of the dark live outside. Creatures of fierce monstrosity, silver daggers that shine in the palest light, flayed skin adorning each ridge and crevice and the eyes that burn with crimson decent.

Chalky, the grey skinned and hard boiled detective lived a life on the edge. A life not so easily lived, due to the fact that blood thirsty Mafia and them dark beasties kept his heart pumping. Chalky doesn't really know the last time his ever had a good night sleep. He thinks it was a Thursday, a Thursday afternoon at Old Magna's. Warm and welcoming most nights. Hot coffee would usually be prepared in an instant, graceful steam seeping from the liquid. This coffee was like magic to Chalky. Hard to swallow and shoots you in the face with so much caffeine, you could swear your heart has exploded and lined the innards of your chest. How, do you say you could one fall asleep with such a Beveridge fermenting in their stomach? Well, lets just say. When you run this stuff out of your system in two hours through hard boiled activities, where Chalky believes you shouldn't be concerned about, But I won't hold back the secret. Lets just say, Old Magna's daughter is too pretty to go unnoticed by Chalky's keen eye. Afterward, Chalky just collapses in a bundle of hot sheets and gasps of oxygen.
_______________EDIT: More added.

Night air chilled the streets of old stone walls and iron traffic lights. Strange how its always night here, no sun ever rises or falls. Eternal darkness rains down day by day. Chalky walked briskly down a stone footpath. Flickering lights from old street lamps beamed down on chalky's hard boiled trench coat and wide brimmed hat, effortlessly swaying to his rhythmic movement.

Screams echoed from a nearby apartment. Chalky stared about, searching for the source of the broads plea. Silhouettes of a violent struggle could be seen behind a curtain up in the nearest apartment block. Chalky ran as fast as his feet could take him. He beat down the door of the lobby and rushed for the stairs. Rust decorated the rail leading upwards to his destination. Two steps, three steps. Chalky leapt up the stiars and came to the source of the screams and pleas of stopping. The door forced ajar, the chain which kept the doors security tight was held within its resting, and splinters lightly decorated the floor.

Chalky witnessed two men struggling. One man which had thick hair and a scruffy beard, wielded a slender knife, trying to force it through the other man. He was a more timid build, he was wearing an office suit, his hair neatly combed down with oils and other healthcare products. Furniture was toppling over, walls being scratched apart. A terrified woman stood idle, cowering behind a door frame crying in fear begging the attacker to stop. Chalky threw himself into the middle of the fight. He gripped the assailants arm trying to prevent the blade succeeding in finding its target. The surprised attacker shrugged himself off of Chalky's grip. A firm hairy arm and clinched fist plundered its way through chalky's lower jaw, sending him a metre across the room, random furniture crushed under Chalky as he landed on the floor. The attacker had gained victory. Chalky's interference had served a perfect distraction. Steel ripped through the fabric of the confused man's suit. A train of strength forced its way through and out with speed and ease. Blood caked the blade. Deep colours seeped and dampened the victims wound and clothing. He fell to his knees and soon after lay cold and motionless. The broad screamed and yelled out the name George. She attempted to rush over to his side, but the scruffy bearded man turned his attention and palmed her out of his way like an annoying insect.
"Hey" Chalky growled in his hard boiled demeanour and picked himself off the ground, brushing himself off. The bearded man peered his glassy gaze to Chalky.
"I don't think that was very nice" Chalky breathed and wrenched his hand into his coat. The bearded man ploughed his way through the furniture readying the blood caked blade for another victim.
"Prepare to die, fool. This will teach you for meddling." In a split second, Chalky unveiled a metal housing from his coat. Holding the trigger fast and firm, hardening his palms for the force. Gears and springs were brought to life. A solid embodiment of justice forced its way through the cranium of his attackers skull.

Deep below the crushing waves off an icy shore, a vicious octopus god awaits his awakening. The mere mortal octopi feared their suction cupped god. His undying stare which penetrated the murkiest of waters, its vile skin plagued with the rotting flesh and bones of its defilers strewn across its mighty husk. Some say the octopus god would once again stir in his underwater castle, made from the bones of the great Titan Whales, which it had fought centuries ago.

A lone octopus, by the name of Glorpish, set out on a afternoon adventure one day. The waters were clear and warm. The sun shimmering vividly through the oceans surface, filtering down below in oceans depths. Glorpish was a happy octopus, he liked to attack fish, play sucker ball, and be an all around joker.

Glorpish sloshed his way through the open water, deep down below to the coral forests. Colourful corals and seaweed decorated the vast expanses. Shades of red, blue, green and even orange dotted and splashed across the deep sea area. Large crustaceans scuttled across the sea bed, running from view, as Glorpish swam past the corals.

Shadowy suckers hovered through the shadows of the seabed, silently creeping through the soft sands. They slyly crawled their way towards Glorpish. He was unaware of this hidden danger, which was gaining ground every second.

A long and slender barrel of steel pressed against the forehead of the sweaty Joe Saplargis. A flaming barrel of hot lead and flames took his head in a cloud of shear heat and destruction, taking his head clean off. There was nothing left. All that remained were the splattered brains that had lined the concrete walls, and poor old Joes's dead decapitated body.

Hooney Kablooker pulled out a snotty handkerchief out of his pocket and cleaned his magnum of the blood that had saturated it. Hooney holstered his gun within his jacket and strutted off out of the old mill that had been abandoned for so long, due to its incredibly high accidental mishaps, which caused many deaths.

Through the over towering shadowing darkness of the old mill, a man stood aloft upon the rooftop of the mill. Ever so quietly watching Hooney as he walked out of the doors of the old mill. He man through himself upwards and screamed like a church girl on Sunday
"Stop evil doer! For I am the "Shadow of incredibleness!"

Hooney stared skywards to the rooftop. A shadowy figure welcomed his sight by staring back.
"Prepare for a serving of justice!" the shadowy figure cried again, as the figure leaps off of the rooftop and plummets towards him.

Hooney was surprised by this persons craziness and whipped out his magnum and started blasting rounds at him. In the sight shallow moonlight the bullets seemed to pass through the person, which made Hooney give a jolt of surprise and unease.

The person met the ground. A mass of broken bones and flesh amassed to the concrete with a sickening sound of breaking bones. Hooney went to inspect what had happened to the person. To his surprise on what he could make out. The bullets didn't pass through him without a scratch. They actually just flew straight out of his body with ease due to the massive power the magnum provided.

The man was an escaped asylum patient, who just wanted to play heroes for a little while.

I stared into the blissful horizon. I peered over into the far off valley and screamed the word 'turtle' as loud as I could possibly muster. Rumbles filled the air, the ground quacked before me, trees in the distance started to shake, forcing the birds that had perched in them to flee.

A lumbering lump of shadow shifted its way towards my being. I watched in interest as to what I may have summoned with my golden voice.

The shape became clear; I was shocked with absolute surprise when I had gazed upon it; A glistening shell, a mighty beak that could slice an armoured vehicle in half, leathery skin as tough as titanium.

The beast exploded from the trees below, the beast had locked its sight on me. It was staring upward, piercing through my gaze in the valley below.

A hidden feature had come apparent to me as its body was fully exposed. On its shell, a ridiculously long and slender cannon was perched on its back. This behemoth of power took its aim. Creaking metal and gnashing cogs set the cannon to deadly pinpoint accuracy. I was staring down the barrel of a cannon mounted on a turtle, what else could be any weirder, I thought to myself.

The turtle roared; the cannon blasted a shell forwards, towards my face. Recoil shocked the valley, forcing trees to be toppled over, due to its immense force.

I sung a prayer, did a dance, played poker, ate dinner and finished my rubrics cube. I had almost forgotten about this immense shell hurdling towards me at deadly speeds faster than anything imaginable.

A speck of dust flew up my nose. The sensation was too much for me; the dust forced me to sneeze. In that exact moment when I was about to preform my final act, the shell hit, killing me instantly. The blast rocked the very core of the planet. Causing volcano's to erupt, giving elephant's amnesia, and forcing me into the sky.

I began to plummet back down to earth. My flaming corpse fell through a city of angles, reviving me with ultra mega morphic powers. I yelled with grim dignity "super ultra mega turbo Zord"

A rift opened up in the heavens, sending the awesome unicorn of rainbows and sunshine to my aid. The unicorn Zord flew underneath my flaming body now imbued with an outfit equipped with flashing strobes. I fell gracefully into place, inside the unicorn Zord. I yelled the words
"Turbo rainbow power!" causing the control panels and view screens to strobe me in an infinite spectrum of colour, flashing violently in my presence.

I began to drive the unicorn Zord deep down through the clouds and back to the turtle's position. I readied an attack so powerful, that nothing will be able to withstand its power. The confusing lights flashed and buzzed around me, but my attention wouldn't fade away. I forced the unicorn Zord into a direct collision course for the turtle.

The turtle roared and readied its cannon, aiming away. The turtle fired volleys through the valley, barely missing me by inches.

I charged the unicorn Zord's ultimate power up attack. "Seizure beam."
I readied my attack. I aimed with such concentration, the lights blasting to and from throughout the cockpit of the unicorn Zord, was almost non apparent to me.

I pulled the trigger on the firing mechanism. Bolts of colours and rainbows swirled around the unicorn Zord's mighty horn. Dazzling colours was then blasted with such force; it tore the ground asunder from the unicorn Zord's horn. It struck fast and hard in the turtles face, Mystic energy filled the turtles eyes with colour, forcing it into a sudden spasm. Froth and foam erupted from its massive maw, spilling out like a waterfall. The turtle collapsed in its sea of froth that it had produced, Steam erupted from the turtles ears, its eyes as good as liquid mush.

The turtle was defeated. I flew home in my dazzling and graceful unicorn Zord, trailed by a flaming rainbow of victory, towards the horizon of the sun.

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