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Oasis: Or Not To BePull, pull yourself up, Will. The weight of the world rests upon your shoulders.
Through the pain and the blood Will lifted himself from the sand. Blood seeped through his coat as the desert wind whirled around him. His vision was beginning to fail him as the world grew dark. Perhaps the Green Lady would return once more to take him away to the ocean.
The attacker lay on the ground and did not rise. With the gas mask draped loosely over his face only a gaping mouth, lined with black, ruined teeth, was visible. Will stumbled through the sand, trying to maintain his failing balance. He kicked the man once, and got no response. Will leaned over the man's frail body and picked up his rifle. As he bent down, he could see the rock under the man's skull, barely visible through the sand.
Using the weapon to balance himself, Will searched around the bleak landscape for John.
"Johnny!" he called weakly, "Johnny-boy!"
Will could not hear any response. Then again, he could not hear anything
Oasis: To BeWilliam was his name, and he had no other. He assumed that he had been given another name at birth, but he couldn't remember what it was. He vaguely remembered his mother and father, their faces obscured by the blurry film of memory, lost forever in the abyss of his subconscious.
He'd taken a name from a strange book, tattered and dusty. It had words on the inside that he had never seen before, "thou", "thy", "adieu". He saw no real value in the book and had left it in the dirt. Before doing so, however, he had noticed a word on the cover, a name, "William". Who this "William" was, who must have previously owned the book and left it in the sand, would forever remain a mystery. In the desert, it is vital to take whatever can be taken in order to survive. Will could not gain anything from the book, but he could take the name and make it his own.
Looking down the barrel of the rifle, it was this memory that flooded Will's mind. He looked into the insane, inconsolable eyes of the man with
Oasis: Open DesertOver the desert the two boys trekked onwards. The wind blew sand in their faces, forcing them to strap on their goggles and pull their collars up over their noses. Through the brown haze, a reddish sun beat down on their heads, drying the earth and lifting up more dust to blow back against the weary travelers of the desert.
The wind's howl was great, blasting away at the boys' uncovered ears, making it difficult to hear. Will didn't like being out in the open. Such openness meant vulnerability, and vulnerability almost certainly meant death. He kept John close by and listened intently for any noises rising over the wind.
Too late, Will heard a foot crunch in the sand. He spun around to face the pursuer and caught the butt of a rifle with his face. The blow stunned him and he fell backwards into the dust. John cried out in terror as the assailant knocked him aside. Before Will could get back to his feet, the attacker leapt on top of him and held his arms down with his knees. Blood oozed
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More