Amataga Tuga

Dearest Family, I write this letter to you because I feel ashamed. The days in Deathrow are long and hard. They’ve been harder as of late. Now that I’m alone, I know what I can endure and what I cannot. Pain is

I’ve been dragged through hell itself. I was chopped down at the knees and taken by legs, dragged over hot coals, face first. The acid from those coals felt like razor blades on my skin as it burned through me. It felt

Imagine having access to a multitude of weapons. A variable arsenal of painful implements. You could take a gun from that arsenal. A simple pistol. You put a bullet in the chamber, you cock it back and fire. The destruction that bullet

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the fire triangle, haven’t you Prometheus?” “After all, you’re a ranging inferno of a fire that began a long time ago. You once lived in the upper echelon of Arcadia,  alongside Zeus – a trusted friend