Paris — Jag Aoti

Morbi nisl sapien, congue at ante non, facilisis vehicula nulla. Aenean id sem vitae odio bibendum blandit. Mauris ut urna ligula. Etiam pharetra sapien sed hendrerit fermentum. Fusce nec rutrum tellus, id tincidunt ex. Curabitur id dui dui. Maecenas luctus quam nunc, at finibus dolor ultrices sit amet. Cras vel posuere leo, eu pretium ante. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas. Morbi id velit fermentum, elementum risus nec, venenatis nisi. Etiam a metus urna.

Id velit fermentum, elementum risus nec, venenatis nisi. Etiam a metus urna.Morbi nisl sapien, congue at ante non, facilisis vehicula nulla. Aenean id sem vitae odio bibendum blandit. Mauris ut urna ligula. Etiam pharetra sapien sed hendrerit fermentum. Fusce nec rutrum tellus, id tincidunt ex. Curabitur id dui dui. Maecenas luctus quam nunc, at finibus dolor ultrices sit amet. Cras vel posuere leo, eu pretium ante. Pellentesque habitant morbi tristique senectus et netus et malesuada fames ac turpis egestas.

Chapter 1 – The Cut

The explosion ripped down the center of main street like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon. A silver haired lady was tossed to the side, groaning as she crunched against a stone pillar of a towering city bank and slid to the ground. A boy no older than twenty, with his hair slicked upwards, sides shaved, and his face striped in bright blue, hurled over as a park bench spun into his gut and tore through his ribcage. Gore erupted everywhere as thick grey smoke engulfed the narrow street.

Latest Releases

Sand Blast - written 2017 - Copyright Jag Aoti

Chapter 1 – The Cut