John C. Willis sits upon the floor of an old disused circus tent, surrounded by memories of tightropes, applause, and the intoxicating rush of adrenaline. We see the man before …
Decapitation
Haywire stands in the thick of The Groves cradling a knife. It gleams in the light of the sun as he twists and turns it in his blood-stained hands. Haywire: …
Entry #4: The Night Before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the cell, Not a sound could be heard, just the toll of a bell. The moon cast its glow, on the bars …
Entry #3: Cirque du Damné
Dear Diary, I write to you again from the confines of Deathrow; that accursed corner of existence where the wicked and the wretched are condemned to waste. As I prepare …
Entry #2: Kindred Spirits
DiArY oF a MaDmAn Entry #2: Kindred Spirits Three lonely nights have passed since the anarchy of the Battle Royale that ensued at Titanfall. Having come within a hair’s breadth …
Entry #1: Survival
DiArY oF a MaDmaN Entry #1: Survival Within the confines of my padded cell, I dwell in a realm where shadows and torment converge. A condemned madman, shackled by fate …