Steph Ruff
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Achievements (1)
Stories (50)
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Shiver
Tingles and sparks run across my skin. Tickles and coarseness between my clothes and skin. I vibrate and shake, I can feel every cell alight with movement, but no one else can see it. My hair stands on end, my skin bumped and raised, as though the millimeters of air will provide substantial insulation.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Earth
Cynical Depression
My eyes snapped open. Even in the suffocating darkness, I found myself beginning to relax. The noise had come from outside my door, from the sounds of it, the little ones were playing a rather rowdy game of tag. I sat up, shifting so I could lean back against the wall, a flick of my wrist illuminating the room with dull light. What little concrete wall was peeking through my décor absorbed much of the light. Another bang interrupted the silence, followed by some shouts in protest. I reached for my phone, the light of the screen blinding me. It was only 7 am. Figures. I rolled my eyes as I began to swipe through my messages. Another email from the mayor with a request for a sit down, five emails from the bank on First Street pleading for their money back, and one email from Love. I stopped my scroll and stared at the name. Why would Love be contacting me? I didn’t miss a meeting or kill anyone this week last I checked…
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Origin
I was nine when my past came back to haunt me. I had finally left the ring. Got out as they say. Clawed my way out from under the piles of bodies left in my wake, but I made one fatal mistake; I left my brother behind. When he discovered me, oh so many months later, I found myself barricaded between him and the dumpster behind the Trickster’s bar, his arm pushed against my ribs and his hand around my throat. My fingers clawed at his hand, the bloody scratches doing nothing to stop his hand from squeezing my throat even tighter.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Mischievous Delight
The world had turned upside down, or maybe right side up? Delight crashed into my room/the garage, stumbling over metal pipes and gas canisters before finally tripping and falling over a half built engine. She was in tears, a strange sight for sure but my eyes found themselves drawn to the purple bruises circling her delicate neck, being partially covered by her shaking hand.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Cynical Angst
I smirked at the memory of Depression’s shock as I followed the hallway right, left and around a blind spot before entering the dining room. Well, it was more like a cafeteria/hangout space but with its high ceilings, obtrusive ledges, and history of battle planning, many of the senior group members have come to calling it the War Room. I find that I agree with them as the room is reminiscent of a castle’s great hall, but with less gold and more blood stains. I grabbed a leg of chicken and some toast off the serving plates before seating myself at the head of the table. The youngsters provided excellent entertainment as they continued their game of tag, chasing each other around the long, oak table. A patch of red caught my attention as our newest member scurried by me. Seems Enmity was finally comfortable enough to relax her powers and interact with the other kids. She was definitely the youngest of the group at only six years old.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Loving Delight
I found myself hitting the refresh button again for the gazillionth time. Still no reply from Cynical. The question was, was he not answering in order to spite me or had he simply not read it yet? I clicked refresh again as my jaw began to clench. Cynical knew better than to ignore me.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Betrayal of Cynical Love
The city was grimy and dark, smog choked the color from the sky and the life from the weak. The streets were smeared with the blood of children who had gone out of their way to damage each other beyond repair. The city was overrun and Cynical liked it that way. He ruled over the darkened minds of traumatized kids, their pain redirected into glorious bouts of rage and violence as they sought to maintain control. The light and good were constantly at their throats, pushing and pushing for power until blood gurgled from their mouths, staining their teeth. This was Cynical’s city and he would not allow anyone to take it from him.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Flashback
The slam of the dagger silenced Cynical. Love was talking, Cynical could see his mouth moving but the words were muffled; absorbed by the onslaught of memories Cynical found himself drowning in. That dagger, his third favorite dagger, had made that exact same sound when Greed had found him.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
The Beast
There is something hollow inside me. A space surrounded by jagged teeth. My eyes are black holes, unseeing and cavernous, revealing nothing but bone. My face, although two-dimensional, has all but shriveled; I have no nose, no lips, and strips upon strips of rotting skin. Each horrible thing I do, to keep myself glowing, alive, flaming bright, adds to the decay, forcing me to hide. My antlers stretch out of my head, one extending out from either side, twisting and growing and wrapping themselves around anything alive. Each antler gains new heights as I scheme and deceive and lie. I am trying to help you. Don’t worry, everything is fine. It has been so long I cannot bear to see the light. To see every mistake and pale face, of all the people who I have led to die. This small face below my chin came from a very young boy. So full of joy and hope, he was the first to go. This other one right next to it came from an aunt, or was it an uncle? A cousin, a grandfather, a grandmother, a dear family friend. All their faces stare back at me, their souls reflected in the parts not yet decayed into bone.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Fiction
Why I'm not so Special
I am nothing special, maybe a little strange and demented, but I am human, meaning you and me and the billions of people on this planet all have a million things in common. We breathe air, are covered in a layer of hair, have nails and a conscious, friends, enemies, parents. We eat and drink, play and die, scream all our hurts into the void. But all of these things that we have in common are infinitesimal to all the differences that makes each and every one of us oh so special.
By Steph Ruff4 years ago in Confessions
