Once, in the magnificent world of Terra, there was a little boy..
Actually, fuck that shit. No cliche starters this time.
My name is Greg. I live on a planet known as Terra Beta. My life is shit, and there's nothing magnificent about living here. I grew up among fairies and gnomes and trolls, but not like everyone thinks they used to be. Maybe once, they were all magical and happy, but not now. They're all miserable, just like the humans.
Terra Beta is an industrial world, one of three in this Galactic Sector of the Terran Empire. We were the third planet established after Earth began it's extensions into space. There were peaceful aliens here, but they were subjugated and broken by the whips of the human masters.
This is the story of their revenge.

It's not a sweet story, and it's not a nice story. It's a bloody story of what happens when you fuck with someone's planet.
As I said, my name is Greg, and I'm a member of the Fairy Resistance Movement. Not some group of flying lights who buzz in little boys ears. They all stand about two feet tall, and they're vicious bastards in a corner. They fight to the end, and never give an inch without taking an arm. Among the fairies, we have disgruntled gnomes, nothing like those lawn ornaments back on earth. These gnomes stand a few feet tall, and will eat anything. They have mouths as big as a watermelon, and jaws stronger than steel. But that's not all.
The leader of this group is in fact a grand and noble troll, his tusks large and sweeping in his jaw and his eyes fierce as he conducts the business of the FRM. Our agenda?
Well, we're just gonna take over the planet. Our member base is more than half of the planet, and we're staging a revolution come morning. Who knows, maybe by midnight tomorrow, we'll own this planet. Or maybe, we'll all be dead, our brave efforts nothing more than another reason to abuse the masses.

The future is never certain. All you can do when facing the Abyss is scream and attack.


I wrote this story introduction for Grant.
It was meant to be a short story, but I had too many ideas for it, so I'm gonna write it over the next few days and type up a full copy in the next couple of weeks. I hope you guys enjoy the idea as much as I do.

Matthew No-Name, And His Crazy Friend, Pt. 3

As I slowly regained consciousness, I was aware of my eyes already being open, and my body still driving. It was dark, and the countryside was much more hilly, so my guess was that we'd driven all through the night.
It was pretty terrifying knowing that I wasn't completely in control of myself. I could feel, like a disease coursing through my veins, the voice, the one that was so familiar and yet so alien to me. It was still moving my muscles, coordinating everything in my body under it's will except for my mind. Slowly, I felt the voice receding, I could feel the palpable exhaustion in it from the effort of forcing my body to listen to it. Feeling it finally drain from my limbs, I took over, feeling the protesting muscles begging for a sweet release. Looking at the highway signs, I searched for a rest stop as I slowly cruised down the highway.
Spotting a sign for a truck stop, I shifted lanes and sped up, hoping for a chance to absorb everything that had happened today. It was a lot to understand, even for me.
Pulling into a parking spot, I turned off the car and stuffed the keys in my pocket, getting out and hobbling my way into the doors. Everyone there, which was only a few tired truckers and a very tired clerk, looked at me when I came in. I could tell I was somewhere west of the Mississippi here. Everyone was very rough-hewn looking and country. I shambled past them, buying a shower token and a meal and wandering down the hallway. I was too tired to care what happened to me now.

I must have passed out around this point, because I woke up with a very austere gentleman standing over me, asking me why I even tried to escape.
Wait. Tried to escape?
There it was, the instincts that the voice had drawn on. I knew there was no choice now, I had to let them loose.
With quick, sharp movements, my hand flew up and stabbed, pointer first, into the man's neck, twisting and jerking. With a snap, he fell over, dead. Looking around, I could see nobody else, but I knew there were others. I could smell them.
Suddenly, a small man came around the corner, stopping when he saw me standing there.
"Oh, hello there. Are you the man I'm supposed to take back to base?"
"I suppose I am. What makes you think you can?" My reply was snide, since someone so puny couldn't hope to match me.
"Oh, nothing much I guess. Just do it, that's all." Dropping his candy bar, he grinned ferally and snarled. His skin suddenly rippled like a disturbed pond, the waves changing his skin subtly. Then, with a hideous groan, spikes thrust themselves out of his back, and from there, the whole illusion of humanity dropped.
Standing there, a full seven feet tall before me, was something like a cat from the Dinosaur Age. The spines on it's back were a foot long, and it's huge grin was added to by gigantic canine teeth jutting out of it's lower jaw.
Every inch of it's skin was a dark, mottled brown, and it's hugely muscled arms were aided by massive claws.

I was in some deep shit.
-To Be Continued-