Chaos Inside A Pen

  A realm is a reflection of what kind of entity dwells on it. This explains why the mortal realm, in essence, is the perfect model of a melting pot world due to the extreme diversity of humankind. Even all are subjected and bound by their own flesh, no human is exactly the same when it comes to their soul thus you will find an assortment of areas that mirrors the identity of the people who live there.  This principle applies also to the creatures from Biringan. And since the entities are formed from the strongest desires of humankind in a twisted and chaotic fashion, chances are that anyone who has the guts to enter their world but lacks the mental fortitude will always be good as insane for they will never comprehend the purest strain of hate, fear, hunger, lust and other desires that manage to take their own shape and forms inside Biringan. Of course, that also depends if they can get out of that place that is known to trapped souls for eternity. Thus, hell in another guise...

  “No…not again!   Joaquin only felt a slight heat beneath his skin when he found out again the pair of swirling horns on his head. The strange protrusion got him in a complete panic as he stumbles across his bed with all his pillows and blankets roll all over the floor. He rushes at the comfort room, open the faucet and douse himself with insanely cold water while he is practically naked with only his boxer shorts on him.   The shiver that strikes like lightning down to his marrow is enough to make his flesh and brain shudder; completely shutting down the heat in his body and dissolving the images that nearly make him fall again to sinning.   How come he got arouse from just seeing a dancing group of girls donning a Sailor Fuku in a commercial? Their skirts are not even that short enough to have a peek at the color of their underwear! "This is wrong...of all the people, why me?" It was the same sentiment he always utters every after his bouts with his un...

Armed with S-Grade Kevlar suit and sub-machine guns that pack firepower without any recoil which is perfectly made for all-out assault; the 7th Unit lead by Chief Sakamoto stormed the former nest, Maximillian Fernandez before he went out of their radar.   The White Mansion, as coined by junkies and punks in the street, has lost its former glory and beauty. Its gates and walls are now draped with dead vines and vandalized by street urchins with puerile images of dick and pussy   It’s infamous gold and yellow paints are now like faded urine-stained all over its facade while its large iron-wrought gate has gone missing.   However, despite the dilapidated condition, testosterone boys and wild girls are now flocking inside the huge three-story mansion. Maximillian promises them that not just booze will flood his crib tonight; crystals, poppers, and other extreme party drugs will be available with the exact amount of cash.   But many from the underground is also expecting ...