
Guides of PrimusGuides of PrimusGuides of Primus3 days ago in Short Stories
Originally known simply as ‘Guides’ on account of leading Megatron to planets and star systems that had become battlefields, they shortly came to be known as the Guides of Primus, on account of the billions of lives, both Cybertronian and otherwise, that they were deemed responsible for ending.
The Guides were chosen during the very peak of the Great War from the most skilled Triage Officers the Decepticons had at the time. They travelled off-world and chose which planetary battlefields were worth sending backup to, which could be left to their own devices, and which were lost causes and, in order to prevent sig

Bottom feeder"I'll pour you a glass. Or you could drink it straight from the bottle, like me."Bottom feeder3 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I'm fine, thank you."
I watched as the man poured the most expensive wine on the chart down his throat without so much as tasting the drink.
"I'll have another!", he yelled drunkenly and soon after, one of the waiters brought another bottle of the finely aged chateau.
"It's a shame," he said in between chugs. "I wish I could be of more service to you, but I can only help you with this."
"It's plenty, I assure you. If only more people were as generous as you."
The main course was finally served and the table was filled to the brim with food. The waiter had hard

The White FieldIt’s cold, so cold now. I cannot see the red drops stain this white field where I lie, but I can feel them dripping from my lifeless hand.The White Field2 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
“All we wanted was freedom.”
A bright light falls on my face and I close my eyes. With my other hand I grab his, only to feel it tightly close around mine.
I imagine this white field, covered in fresh snow and with its trees so magnificent and its grass so soft, without these scarlet stains we have made. This perfect and untouched white field, like a dream...
I listen to a door slam that isn’t there, and remember.
It was the door of my house that slammed shut this evening and clo

...The Horror... There is type of bond that exists between people who witness atrocities. Who struggle everyday to justify their actions. Liberating a village then having to add up the collateral damage, flushing out insurgents, while losing friends in the skirmish. They were a family, tied together by the blood they all had on their hands. Sometimes their fellow soldiers were the only people they could look in the eye. They not only understood the guilt, the pride, and the duty...they lived it. They agonized together over the distance between them and their families. They celebrated the tiniest acts of kindness shown them. They ate, slept and grieved together...their bond was unbreakable. That is until that night....The Horror...3 days ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a typical evening on the front. The night air was chilly, but quiet. It was relatively still except for the occasional scorpion scurrying across. Some members of the unit kept a weary watch, while others amused themselves with stories a