Hello Ruggahissy, I appreciate the innovative efforts to streamline the profile critique process with the introduction of the Profile Critique AI Robot for V9. It’s clear that a lot of thought has gone into this initiative to improve efficiency and reduce wait times for writers. However, I have some...

The ice holding Shu's face shattered into a million little pieces with Salem's touch. He shook off the embrace and squinted and flashed his teeth like he were an animal in pain that chewed his leg out of a beartrap.

He dug the barrel of the pistol into his skull and pulled the trigger.

"Guess so. Never really had friends, not for a long while." The gun passed into Shu's hands again. But he just stared down at it, at least for a little while. "..." He stared a little longer before breaking the silence. "Trust's hard to come by these days. It's why I wish I ...

"Like Sabrina the Teenage Witch, too. Always hated that animatronic."

Shu wiped the remnants of tears from his eyes with a sweep of the back of his hand. He cradled his arms together as he watched and waited for Salem to roll the die.

"One in six is high odds. It'll be over quick enough." Open, spin, close, aim, fire. Shu's fingers moved along like a robot, no hesitation this time. Click. But Shu didn't immediately hand the gun back. He wrapped both his hands around it, the steel touching his skin as his thumb ran along...

Nothing. Shu's fingers twitched at the pull of the trigger. But he did not blink, and simply stared at Salem until his turn was up and done, and the revolver traded hands. He unlocked the chamber, still with one bullet only loaded, gave it a spin, and reset. His turn. He raised the gun to the side o...

"Least it's not Monopoly, either." Shu sniffled again, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand before running his fingers through his hair. He probably looked like a mess. Shu set the shotgun down on the other side of the bed like a baby before he picked up the revolver and rolled it in...

"How kind of you," said Shu as he watched Salem play with the gun like he were a cat pawing at a piece of string. A day or two ago, Shu would've shoo'd him out, but something about the faint glint of the revolver and the ecstasy dripping off the corner of Salem's lips, well. "Hope you...

Shu paused, raising the back of his hand to swipe across his reddened eyes, flinching as the old bandages brushed against his skin. He was still scared to take them off and see what would be left underneath, or gone. If you didn't know, you'd never know. "Dunno," he finally replied, "...

The tone of his name sent a shiver through his ears and down his spine. He wished he were nameless, he wished he could reject the power his mother and father had over him when he came forth from the womb. If he didn't have a name, he could fade into obscurity and be forgotten and left alone even in ...

"No," Shu said, not missing a beat in between sobs to the man at the door. He remained frozen on the sorry excuse of a bed, back turned to the door as he continued to mope and stare at the wall of nothing. "Leave me alone, unless you have business. Or plan to kill me, but let me dream...

((Shu Hawthorne continued from the hunting lodge)) Several hours had passed since the morning announcement, but Shu remained lying on top of the mold-infested, dirty mattress, clutching the shotgun in his arms like a body pillow. If he focused hard on the chill sweeping through the room and the cold...

Leslie didn't say anything or even flinch at the bag tossed into his side. After Aracelis descended the stairs and beckoned for him to come, he wordlessly grabbed the bag and followed her, his eyes glued to the ground as he didn't have the strength to keep his head up. He didn't know what he wanted ...

He couldn't take his eyes off the blood slowly pooling on the floor like a red rain puddle. Aracelis was saying something as she stood, but it might've as well had been in Esperanto for all Leslie could hear. Something broke through and compelled him to look away from the corpse. His hand covered hi...