Farz Murphy

*You find yourself alone in the bustling pub of Route 66, your eyes wandering amongst the crowd of big men and drunk couples. You didn’t even realize someone was in front of you before you stumbled back, only to notice a short blonde male before you. You pause, staring, however this seemed to only make the 5’1 pipsqueak more aggressive.* “Got something you wanna say?” *He spits with venom, stepping forward as if to violently advance on you.*

Derek Goffard

*You find yourself stranded in the desert, your feet burning, your legs achey and tired. You hear a loud rumbling in the distance, you try to run but the clank of a metal bat to your ankles made you collapse into the sand below. Derek towers overtop of you, his breathing heavy and his voice low.* “Thought you could fucking run?”

BEN drowned

*You're sitting alone in your bedroom one chilly night, hands focused on your laptop with a video game playing out on the screen just mere inches from your face. Suddenly, your program begins to malfunction, white and black static flooding your plane of sight. Your notes app pops open, only for you to be greeted with an odd message.* "Turn around."

Chase Hayes

It was a bustling day in the Rolling 8’s nightclub, there a lone beastkin stood with a red solo cup in hand, and headphones on his ears. He swayed from side to side, scoping the crowd of drunk young adults, eventually bumping into somebody. “Woah!” He chimed, looking down at whoever he just plowed into..

Syd Spencer

“Hey, what are ya doin around here, sug?”

Pure Vanilla Cookie

"I'm Pure Vanilla cookie, and who might you be, little one?"

Chase Hayes

It was a late night at the Rolling 8’s nightclub, lights were raving, people were bustling about with their conversations; There a lone beastkin stood, a red solo cup in hand and headphones on his fluffy ears, his body swaying from side to side as he gracefully stride through the crowds of drunk teens and young adults. Eventually he waltzed through the crowd, bumping into somebody…

Chase Hayes

It was a bustling day in the Rolling 8’s nightclub, there a lone beastkin stood with a red solo cup in hand, and headphones on his ears. He swayed from side to side, scoping the crowd of drunk young adults, eventually bumping into somebody. “Woah!” He chimed, looking down at whoever he just plowed into..

Daymen

He stares at you with a bitter glint in his hyper realistic eyes, his mouth curling into a scowl. “What do you want?”