| Benji is a senior at Zwei Flusse Academy. He's prepared for Graduation and year's end, but after school one day, he witnesses something he never meant to: A group of students and teachers gather...And murder three people. Benji, wrestling with his own personal fears, realizes that these people must be stopped quickly, because he knows what they are, and that he is one of a few who can. He brings a young friend Into his confidence, and they begin finding anyone who will help, including a teacher. As the band of heroes grows, so do conflicts within, but the killers of Zwei Flusse Academy will prove to be the lesser of two evils. |
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Chapter 2- Interlude Benji unlocked the door to his flat and quickly walked in. He never liked staying outside in the halls for very long (you could never be sure who lived in apartments, you know). He took out the post that he had picked up before coming home-when he did, Benji noticed a large manila envelope at the bottom that he hadn't given much attention to before. He turned it over and looked at the return address; it was from Munich. He breathed a sigh of relief; it was just money (and it was just in time, too; his rent was due on Wednesday). He remembered the first time he had received an eChapter 2- Interlude
by ~Dunklen-Kunste
Dunklen Kunste--Chapter 1 At breakfast that morning, Jericho looked at Benji from across the table, and knew that there was something wrong. Benji looked like he’d been up all night.Dunklen Kunste--Chapter 1
He was right, in a way. Benji had slept, but the day before seemed to merge with the night, and his dreams were rife with shadowy figures, killers, and blood. Jericho was looking at him, he knew. He shifted in his booth, and decided to tell Jericho what happened in front of the Deutscher Dom.
“If I tell you something, will you swear not to tell anyone else?” &
by ~Dunklen-Kunste
Dunklen Kunste--Prologue Mitte was always noisy. It was always bright. Even after the sun went down, the violent amperage of daytime seemed burned into the cityscape. Benji wondered absently if it was always like this; if in every big city, in every country, the lights seemed to stay on.Dunklen Kunste--Prologue
He was looking at one set of lights in particular: The crossing lights. They made a sport of staying red until the second you looked down, and he was ready to go home. It was easier to walk downtown than drive, even if walking wasn’t as fast as a car; there were fewer lights to stop at, and there was more
by ~Dunklen-Kunste
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